“Too bad we’re not near the stables,” he says quietly. “I’d have access to rope over there.”
I glare at him, anger surfacing briefly. “You’ve already got me trapped. You need to tie me up too?”
Asher’s mouth curves into a wicked smile. “I don’t need to.” He thrusts his fingers again, making me go blind. “I’ve already got you right where I want you.”
“Then why?”
His low laugh makes my pussy squeeze around his fingers in response. “Maybe I just like having you at my mercy.”
I try to move and I can’t, trapped by his body and his fingers, and his eyes locked on mine. “Seems like you’ve already got that without rope.”
Without response, he starts to fuck me with his hand, strong strokes directly into my g-spot that make my knees weak in seconds. Holy fucking shit, I can’t breathe. He’s going to make me come and I want it so fucking badly. I’m just a vessel for the pleasure that he’s pouring into me and I’m going to bubble over.
Asher’s mouth is hot on my skin, teeth grazing the lobe of my ear almost lazily, at odds with his hands. I’m torn between the two, suddenly gripping his shoulders in order to hold on. “The rope isn’t for me, Rose. The rope would be for you.”
I can’t focus. He’s making me feel too fucking good. “What?”
“You like me telling you what to do.”
“I do not.”
Everything stops, and Asher looks at me. “Oh, really? I told you that I was bossy. And last night when you dragged me back to my house practically ripping my clothes off, I think it was you who begged me to boss you around.”
Heat flushes up my face and neck. His words unlock the alcohol-soaked memory.
Us crashing into his bedroom, me already clinging to his neck and dying to taste him. Licking his skin. “Tell me what to do,” I begged. “Whatever you want.”
“You want that?” The words he spoke were ragged.
I was smiling and I leaned away so I could pull off my borrowed shirt. “You told me you were bossy. Prove it.”
And he had. Thoroughly. Over and over.
Right now, he sees the recognition in my eyes. “Remember?”
He doesn’t let me respond, moving inside me again. I’m on edge. So close that I’m about to fall apart, bright light behind my eyes ready to spin out of control. And then he pulls away.
“Oh fuck, please—”
“Seems like you might need a reminder.”
I shake my head. “No, I remember. I do.”
He smirks. “Prove it.”
My heart pounds in my chest, nerves and need and fury that he affects me this way. But I already know that I’m going to do this. I want him, and he wants me, and if this is the last time that I’m going to have this man, then I’m going to take advantage of it.
One more time can’t hurt. One last set of delicious orgasms before we part ways and we’re no longer married. “How?”
“Are you asking me to boss you around?”
The word is more moan than anything else. “Yes.”
In the fading light I see his eyes darken, and Asher doesn’t look away as his hands move to his belt. He undoes it slowly. Deliberately. Again, the thought that that motion is ridiculously hot. Sculpted hands moving with purpose. Readying themselves for me. I press myself back harder against the tree to keep myself from jumping him right this second.
“On your knees,” he says, and my stomach flips.
My husband. The man keeping me trapped and helping me at the same time. The only person to ever make me feel like this. My knees sink and hit the grass without a conscious decision to do so, and I’m hit with another memory from last night.
Asher, standing over me just like this, eyes full of fire, whispering sweet things while I sucked him off. And after, him flipping me onto the bed so he could push more fully into my throat while he buried his head between my legs, sucking my clit in time with every thrust of his hips.
I came when he did, heat in my throat and in my pussy. The memory makes me dizzy. Especially with Asher’s cock in front of me now.
“Hands behind your back.” I put them behind me, locking them together, and Asher smiles. “If you still had your panties, maybe I’d tie your hands with those.”
Two bright spots of heat appear on my cheeks. Every word that he says drives me mad and brings me a little closer to letting go. I don’t know how he does it, but I can’t seem to get enough of him. Even if I never drink again, I’ll never mind being drunk on him.
“Open.”
Asher weaves his fingers into my hair, angling my head so he can slip his cock between my open lips. It’s delicious, perfect déjà vu. He groans, sinking deep and fast as far as I can take him. “Your mouth.” He curses low under his breath. “I could live with your mouth wrapped around me.”