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“It’s okay.” I shake my head.
“You’re on the pill?”
“Yeah,” I answer, even though it’s not true. I just don’t have the time or energy to explain that I’m infertile. The only thing on my mind is Asher. His body on top of mine. His cock buried between my legs.
“I’m clean,” he says. “I swear.”
I nod. “Me too.”
We’re both gasping for air, choked by our desires. I try to reach for the buttons of his shirt, but Asher grunts. His eyes darken, and he grabs my wrists.
“No,” he says.
He doesn’t want me to take his shirt off?
Sweeping a hand under my back, he lifts me up and turns me around, planting my feet in front of the sofa and pushing me down so I catch myself on the back of it. He kicks my feet wider, clawing at my dress to push it up over my hips.
I shouldn’t like this—being exposed with my ass in the air—but if I’m honest, it’s turning me on like never before. Xavier was never like this. Never commanding. Demanding. Dirty. He made love to me, but after a while I was so focused on conceiving that sex with him felt more like a chore or a medical procedure than it did something we were doing for pleasure.
This—this is different. Asher wants to fuck, and so do I.
I hear his zipper, then feel his hand on top of my ass. He lets his fingers drift down between my cheeks, just brushing my asshole and sending a delicious, dirty shiver coursing through my veins.
I’m not a queen. Not right now. Not for the next few minutes. Right now, I’m a woman, and I intend to enjoy every second of it.
His fingers find my opening, sliding inside as he groans.
“Are you always this wet, Pen?” Asher lets out another growl, and the noise makes me push back against his fingers. I want more. Deeper. All of him.
“No,” I answer. “Just with you.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to catch my breath. It’s hard to think straight. Hard to make sense of anything except my overwhelming hunger.
My fingers curl into the back of the old sofa, my knees pressed up against the seat. Asher’s legs push against my own, one hand on my lower back to hold me still. Bent over with my dress pushed up to my waist, I know I look nothing like a monarch. I don’t want to look like a queen right now. I want this exactly the way it is.
When I feel Asher’s cock slide against my slit, I let out a sigh. When he puts his hands on my hips and pulls me back, angling me just the way he wants me, a dirty, delicious shiver slides down my spine. And finally, when I feel his crown against my opening, I know I’m about to get exactly what I asked for.
He pushes inside me, and I gasp. Long, thick, and hard. I haven’t had anything like this in years. It stretches me, invading my body. I’m so tight against him, resisting the intrusion. I hear him grunt, pausing, giving me a second to get used to him.
I pant, clinging onto the sofa as heat unfurls in my core.
“Okay, Pen?” Asher’s voice is a low growl.
I nod, unable to speak. His hands mark the skin on my hips, fingers digging into my flesh.
Then, he thrusts all the way in.
I see stars. Gasping, grunting, I brace myself against the back of the sofa. His hands grip onto my waist as he thrusts deeper and harder inside me, making me moan with every movement.
“Shh,” he says, hooking an arm around my chest. He pulls me up, covering my mouth with his other hand. I let him own me. Positioning me just as he wants me and giving myself over to the wicked fire claiming my body. He thrusts mercilessly, and I’m completely powerless in his arms. I let myself fall into the pleasure of it all, loving the way he possesses my body. He puts a foot on the seat of the sofa, angling to go deeper. I lean against him, eyes closed, mouth covered, like a dirty, dirty girl.
I’d fall over if he wasn’t holding me up. With one hand still covering my lips, Asher’s other hand slides up my stomach and cups my breast. His thumb teases my peaked nipple and I moan against his hand, feeling fire erupt inside me. Molten heat flows through my veins as he slides his hand under the bodice of my dress, kneading my breast and teasing my pebbled nipple as he thrusts hard and deep inside me.
My back arches, everything tenses, and I come.
This orgasm is deeper than the first. Where we’re joined, heat and pressure release as I tremble against him, completely supported by his arms and body. I let myself go. Right now, no one is relying on me. There are no hard decisions to make, no political tightropes to walk, no appearances to keep up.
I’m just a woman, coming apart in a man’s arms. I let my orgasm rip through my body, releasing everything I’ve held inside. I clench around Asher’s cock, loving the way he fills me up so completely, so perfectly, that it feels like we were meant for each other. Wave after wave of pleasure wash over me as Asher’s moans grow louder. He likes feeling my orgasm. He wants me to feel good.
