My knees won’t hold me. I lean back on Ash’s strong chest, and he wraps an arm around me, supporting me. He slips his fingers out of me, making me shiver again, and trails them up my belly.
“You’re trembling,” he murmurs in my ear. “And you’re so hot.”
“You, too,” I mumble, my thoughts slow and lazy.
He smiles against my neck. “You think I’m hot?”
“Uh-huh.”
His arm still around my waist, he tugs me toward the sofa. “Be honest. You like being with me because I make you come so hard just using my fingers, and you can’t imagine what I can do with my cock.”
I laugh as he settles me down on the sofa. “I like you anyway, Ash.”
He frowns, taking a seat beside me. “What’s there to like?”
“Idiot.” I close my eyes. “You’re cute, and funny, and you take care of me. You’re strong but you’d never hurt me. You’re really great.”
“Great?” He’s smiling faintly, though his eyes look sad. Why is he sad?
I lift my head and touch his bruised jaw. He winces when I stroke the scab over his split lip. “What did I say?”
“Nothing.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, until my head rests against his chest. I listen to his heart race. He swallows hard, and his hand caresses my hair.
Then he strokes the line of my cheek and lifts my face to kiss me. His lips close over mine, rough and warm, and his tongue slips into my mouth, tangling with mine.
He devours my mouth, both hands coming to cup my face. He’s breathing hard now, his chest rising and falling, pressing on my breasts. I don’t know how it’s possible to want him again, to want more when I’ve just come undone under his touch.
“Fuck, Auds...” He pulls back, licking his lips. His eyes are dark with desire. “I want you so bad.” He groans deep in his throat. “You should go.”
“Why?”
“Because if you stay, I can’t guarantee I’ll hold back like last time. I’m not sure I can.”
I kiss him again. His taste is amazing—like mulled wine. The idea of getting him naked, touching him until he gets lost in pleasure... I want to see that look on his face again—the wonder, the pleasure, so intense it borders on pain.
“What do you have in mind?” I whisper.
“I’m gonna take off your clothes, piece by piece.” He lifts my hair, trails his fingertips down my neck. “I’ll kiss you everywhere, every inch of your bare skin. And then I’m gonna sink inside you so deep.” His lashes lower. “I’ll make you come until the only word you can speak is my name.”
My heart races. My whole body throbs with excitement and a bit of fear. I know, if I can admit it to myself, that I’ve waited for him. And now that he’s telling me what he’ll do, I need him more than ever.
Then he lowers his mouth to my exposed neck, sucking on my pulse, and the fear flees. I love him. Always have. Even when I tried to hate him.
His hands drop to the hem of my T-shirt and skim up my ribs. I know he’ll take care of me, like every time. I trust him.
No matter what, when he’s with me, he puts me first.
He caresses my breasts through the flimsy fabric of my bra until they ache and heat pools between my legs, while his lips still trail over my neck, raising goose bumps.
God, he smells good—of sexy boy, musk and soap.
“Your mom won’t like this,” he whispers, and I start laughing, but he slips my bra down and his hands are on my bare breasts, stealing my breath. It’s as if lightning has touched me, electric currents zipping from the tips of my breasts to my core.
Then he’s peeling my clothes off—my T-shirt, my bra, kissing every inch of skin he bares, like he said he’d do. His lips are soft, the scabbed-over wound rough, and when he licks my breasts I arch into his mouth. He lays me back on the sofa and pulls down my leggings and panties all in one move.
He bends over me, kissing his way down, brushing his lips over the scar on my belly, on my thigh.
“Ash.” I need to feel his body on mine.