Torn (The Fosters of New York 3)

He smiles softly. "I'm clean now. I'll stay clean forever."

***

"You're everything I've ever wanted." His lips find mine again in a heated, wet kiss. I lick through the kiss, pushing his mouth open, claiming his tongue. He pushes me back onto the bed, rising above me.

My hands are all over him; grabbing his shoulders, sliding down to his pectorals, gliding over his rock hard stomach. "You're so perfect, Asher."

He smiles against my lips. "I love that you think that."

"I do," I whisper as I move my hand lower, circling his cock with my hand. It's wide, heavy and hot in my palm. I move my hand, stroking him slowly, the motion pulling a series of groans from within him.

"Your hands do something to me," he growls. "Your lips too."

I take that as a suggestion, moving quickly. I push him onto his back, taking the tip of his cock between my lips. His body tenses immediately.

"You can't do that to me." His warm hand strokes my hair. "I'll come from your lips."

"I won't complain if you do." I lick the side of his erection, lapping my tongue against it. "I want to give this to you."

He quiets, his hand falls to his side. "I won't deprive you of anything you want."

I smile and giggle before I grip the root and lower my mouth over the shaft. I go slowly, taking as much as I can before I slide it out, almost completely. I repeat the motion, over and over, faster, then slower. I pump with my hand, cup his balls with my other hand, use his body as leverage when I finally take him quickly, hot, fast plunges into my mouth.

"Stop, please." His voice pleads." Let me fuck you now."

I still. I want to taste his release. I crave it. I have since that day in my shower wh

en he came all over my face, his face twisted with pleasure.

"Fuck me," I whisper against the length of him.

He's on his feet in an instant, his hard-on bobbing heavily between his legs. He opens a drawer, pushes his hand in and then he starts yanking things out, tossing them behind him. I move slightly so I can get a better look.

"Those are boxer briefs." I point at all the pairs he's thrown from the drawer. "You have more underwear than I do."

He laughs as he pulls a condom package from the depth of the drawer. "I knew there was one here somewhere."

I watch in silence as he sheaths his thickness, pulling the condom over, carefully, precisely.

He's not gentle when he lowers himself over me, his hand cupping my ass, positioning me just right before he buries himself in me in one deliciously, long and thick stroke.

"Asher," I moan.

"Tell me it's good, Falon." He tilts his hips, the drives harder and deeper. "Tell me."

"It's only this good with you," I say into the skin of his neck. "Only you."

CHAPTER 42

Asher

I fucked Falon Shaw and then I fell in love with her. It may have happened before that. Who the fuck am I kidding? I fell in love with her that first day in her studio. Back then it wasn’t real love. It was more, I want a taste of that sweet pussy love, but now, this is different.

She's been sitting at the foot of my bed, in nothing but her white lace panties, reading everything in the envelope Daniel dropped off. That same envelope that I'm now, more than ever, determined to show my dad.

I have to put this part of my life to rest. I don't want it hanging over my head. I'm not a Foster. That's the brutal reality of it all. I'd like to know who my biological dad is, but I'm not going to let that curiosity chart the course of my life for the next two, three or even ten years.

If my dad doesn't know, I'll go to my mom. If she refuses to tell me, I'll let it rest. The time I would spend seeking out the truth is time I could be spending with Falon. She makes me like who I am, regardless of who played a part in my birth. I see the future when I look at her.