This is pure torture.
And only Asher can end it.
The click of the door is deafening in the silence of the room. I refrain from sighing in relief.
But that’s wrong. I shouldn’t be relieved when I have no idea what he plans to do with me.
After all, this is Asher. Being unpredictable is his modus operandi.
His steps are quiet, but I can almost imagine him stalking in my direction. I don’t dare look up or change position. For some reason, I sense that I have to remain this way.
It feels like forever before he finally comes into view.
My lips part.
He’s fully naked, too. His sculpted abs are taut and begging for my fingers to run over them, touch them, hug them –and eventually lick them. The V lines create a masculine view down his hips, but not more than what it leads to.
His dick is so thick and long and hard—so hard it’s throbbing. God, how did he fit that thing in me?
It takes me a few seconds to focus back on his face. What I find there causes a shudder to crawl between my ribs and settle in my heart.
There’s something unintelligible in his gaze, a madness, an unknown.
He reaches out his index finger and flicks it over my nipple. It thickens into a painful tip. His touch is nonchalant, but it creates a war zone in my starving body.
My poor, sensitive body.
A tingle of pleasure dances down my stomach, clenching for more.
“What did I say?” His tone is calm, too calm—too good to be true.
“W-what?” I’m too distracted by his finger to concentrate on words.
“I told you to lie on your stomach, prom queen.”
He did.
Oh, God. He did.
Why the hell did I lie on my back instead? At the time, it felt like a normal thing to do, almost as if he told me to.
I move to comply. There’s this urge to fix my mistake; no idea why I have it, I just…do.
Asher wraps a hand around my throat, stopping me in my tracks. The tsking sound he makes wraps a different type of noose around me.
“You’ve screwed up twice today, prom queen. I’ll have to remind you how it goes between us.”
His hold on my throat tightens, and I grab his hand with both of mine. My air is about to be cut off and I claw at him to let me go.
God, I enjoy this dynamic between us a bit too much.
“Drop your hands or I’ll tie them.”
He…can’t possibly mean that, right?
When I don’t comply, he releases my throat. I gasp for air as he reaches down to the heap of my clothes. I barely have time to focus as he retrieves my bra and yanks both my hands over my head.
“Ash…what are you doing?”