I’m laid completely bare before him, and he’s still in his boxer briefs. I look at his tanned skin, the muscular dips and grooves of his stomach, the veins in his arms as he holds himself over me, his stormy eyes, and I can’t believe this is real. This is happening. He’s perfection, even bruised and bleeding. This beautifully damaged boy is about to give me the one part of him I’ve never had. And I’m about to give him what should’ve been his.
“Take me out,” Asher says in a strangled voice.
I slide my hands underneath the elastic and lower his boxers, smoothing my palms over his firm ass. His dick springs out, thick, and angry and ready. I can finally see his piercing clearly, and I realize that there is more than one. Two tiny, straight barbells underneath the head. For the first time, I wonder what that means for sex.
“It won’t hurt you,” Asher says, reading the thoughts that are written all over my face.
I give a shaky nod and reach between us to run the tip of my finger across the bars, and Asher shudders when I graze the thin skin. I bite my lip, tentatively wrapping my fingers around him.
“Harder,” he demands and wraps his much bigger hand around mine, roughly guiding my movements. Together, we work his length, and I notice a bead of moisture appear at the tip. Without thinking, I swirl my thumb, spreading it over his head, and Asher jerks in my hand.
“Fuck,” he swears, snatching my wrist and pinning it to the mattress next to my head. “If any part of you doesn’t want this, you have two seconds to tell me to leave.” His eyebrows pull together, and his eyes search mine for doubt that he won’t find before roughly nudging my thighs apart with his knees. Then I feel him there, warm and unyielding, against my sensitive skin.
“Condom?” Asher asks, dipping just the tip inside me. I wiggle closer, trying to get more. “Briar,” he snaps, forcing me to focus. “Condom.”
“I’m on the pill,” I say. “And I’m clean.” I’ve only been with Jackson, and we used protection. I know Asher has had many partners, but some part of me still trusts him and believes he’d never truly put me at risk. He may do a lot of questionable things, but never that.
“Me, too,” Ash says, still only giving me shallow thrusts that drive me crazy.
“I want to feel you,” I whisper, wrapping my legs around him and pulling him into me. I lock eyes with pools of whiskey and jade, conflicted and guilt-ridden. “Please.”
Asher’s control finally, finally, breaks, and his hips snap forward, filling me in one move. The air leaves my lungs in a whoosh, and I close my eyes, unprepared for how it would feel to have Asher inside me, both physically and emotionally.
This. This is what I’ve been waiting for, and I could kill him for making us both suffer without this for so long. I tense and Asher pauses, buried to the hilt. He drops his forehead to mine while I adjust to the fullness. Slowly, so slowly, with more tenderness than I knew he was capable of, Asher starts to move. One of his hands comes up to cradle the back of my head, his elbow resting on the pillow, and the other one grips my thigh as he pumps into me. He was right about his piercing. I can feel something, but it doesn’t hurt at all.
“Fuck, Bry,” he groans. “I need to move, but I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me. Please.” I love his tenderness, but I want his violence, his anger, his pain just as much.
Ash’s jaw turns to stone, and his eyes fill with heat as he rises onto his knees and grips my middle, impaling me. I’m so full of him that it’s painful, but I’ll gladly take the pain because it means this is real.
“So fucking good. I knew you’d be perfect,” Asher mumbles, looking down to where we’re connected. His hands that are almost completely wrapped around my waist control the tempo, making my boobs bounce, and then he lowers his head to suck on my tightened nipple. His bruised, swollen lips against me only gets me hotter, and I feel myself clench around him.
“I’m not going to last if you keep doing that,” he warns before pulling me upright to straddle his lap. My hands fly to the back of his neck while he guides my movements with his fingers digging into my hips. My clit rubs against the base of him in this position, and I start to ride him, shamelessly, desperately.
Ash mutters a curse and leans back on his palms. He sucks his lip in between his perfect, square teeth, watching me move on top of him. I rock my hips faster, about to shatter into a million tiny pieces, when I hear it.
A knock on the door, followed by a familiar voice.
“You awake in there, pretty girl?”
Fuck. Adrian.
My eyes shoot to the doorknob. Locked, thank God.
Asher pushes me backward, and I yelp, causing him to cover my mouth with his hand. He settles in between my legs and immediately starts fucking me. Really fucking me.
“Ignore him. You’re going to come on my cock,” he whispers darkly.
My pleading eyes search his, and I shake my head.
“I can’t anymore,” I mumble from beneath his fingers. Now that I know Adrian’s listening.
“You can and you will.”
“Your brother and I are going to get breakfast. Wanna come?” Adrian questions from the other side of the door.
I look back to Asher, unsure of what to do.