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“More,” he commands.
The slackness of my muscles vanishes. Tension coils in my low belly, and my breath quickens.
Asher’s eyes glow green.
“I see your wolf,” I pant.
“I see yours.” He holds my hips still and thrusts up into me a dozen times then pulls me forward and back over him again. I’m getting close.
“Give it to me.” He reaches up and pinches one of mynipples, rolling and tugging it, making me squeeze around his dick with the answer tug below my waist. “Give it all to me.”
I don’t know if he means my orgasm or my life.
At this moment, I’m inclined to give him both, which should terrify me but instead makes me feel like I’m sailing on the downslope of a rollercoaster.
I bounce over his cock, head thrown back, then brace one hand against the headboard and go to town, riding as fast as I can.
“That’s it.” When I break the rhythm, he rolls us on the big bed, so I’m on my back, and he’s above me and drives into me. “Now you’re going to feel me.”
I laugh through my pants. “Like I wasn’t feeling you before?”
He flicks his brows and thrusts in hard, holding the side of my neck to keep my head from driving into the headboard.
“Yes!” I gasp.
Asher gives it to me hard but, somehow, also loving. Attentive. So different from the rough, cold sex we began this relationship with. He’s killing me with kindness now, and it’s more than I can take.
I clutch at his shoulders, hook my ankles behind his back to urge him in with my legs. We work frantically together, like this climax will determine if we win or lose. Live or die.
And I’m living for Asher now.
Dying for him, too.
And I don’t even know yet what I’ve won and what I’ve lost. All I know is that I’m here for it. For all of it. Whatever this journey with Asher may bring.
“Come for me. Are you going to come for me like a goodgirl?” Asher’s words are rough and guttural. He’s about to lose control.
“Yes!” At the suggestion, my ass lifts and my internal muscles start to squeeze, wringing out pulses of pleasure.
Asher groans and thrusts in deep. I swear I feel the hot ribbons of his essence filling me as I orgasm. For the first time, I have that proprietary sense of wanting to keep the evidence of him being inside me. Wanting others to know this magnificent male wolf belongs to me now.
But of course, I can’t claim him. Not if I want to keep my job.
I feel the scrape of his tooth against my neck, and I shove him away before he sinks into my flesh. “Asher!” I pant. “You can’t.” I meet his green gaze and try to show him with mine that I understand. That I feel it, too. I want it, too. “My job,” I say.
He nods jerkily and pulls out, rolling me to my belly and slapping my ass. “I know, Teacher,” he says lightly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re mine.”
Asher
After practice that afternoon, I walk Abe to his Range Rover, glancing over my shoulder toward the art studio as we walk. Lotta’s still in there, painting. She stays late every evening, long past when we leave football practice.
Since the picnic in the meadow, Lotta’s been softer. Sex is less frenetic. I stay around for a little while after or bring food over before. They aren’t long, intense dates, but there’s more ease between us. The brittleness is gone from our interactions.
When I’m away from her, I find myself cravingmore than her body. I crave conversation. Closeness. I want to consume all of Lotta James–not just her body but her mind, her soul.
But that would take trust. And trust is one thing we don’t have. I told Lotta we could restart. That means I have to block out the past from my mind. Forget that mile-deep wound she inflicted in my life.
And I’ve been thinking about what would make her trust me. I was thinking about how she was down last night about visiting galleries without any luck.
