Mya
Asher followed me into the plush limo, closing the door behind him and locking it. His eyes burned with hunger, his hot gaze setting my already warm skin on fire.
“Two minutes,” he rasped as I sat down on one of the leather benches running down either side of the vehicle.
“W- what?”
“Two minutes until the clock chimes twelve.”
“Oh.” The word left my lips on a small gasp, remembering how I’d told him how I wanted to welcome in the new year.
I hadn’t meant to say the words but dancing with him had been so sexy, his hands painting a trail of heat over my skin. Teasing me. Torturing me to the point of needing him so much I couldn’t think of anything else.
I would never forget the way he burst through the crowd, like a knight-in-Henley-armor, with murder and possessiveness shining in his eyes.
“I want to go slow, take my time...” Asher crawled over me, pressing me into the soft leather bench, running his hand up my chest and palming my neck gently. “But I don’t think I can.”
“So don’t.” I dragged my teeth over the lobe of his ear, biting hard. A groan rumbled in his chest as his hand slid up my thighs, finding the waistband of my jeans.
“These need to come off, now,” he said against the corner of my mouth.
Asher rocked back onto his haunches, and I lifted my ass off the bench, letting him pull the shorts off. His eyes went to my lacy black panties, and another groan worked its way up his throat.
“Your turn,” I panted, trying to reach for him. Asher chuckled, staying just out of arm’s reach as he unbuttoned his jeans and freed his dick, pushing his boxer briefs and jeans down his hips in one swift motion.
“What are you waiting for?” I needed him.
Needed him to ease the deep ache inside of me.
He smirked, stroking himself up and down, his eyes pinning me to the spot. We were half-clothed, inside a limo, in some back alley in New York, but it didn’t matter.
Prowling forward on his knees, Asher grabbed my ankles and wrapped them around his waist, pulling me around him so he could nestle between my legs. His hard length nudged up against me, sending sparks shooting through my body. I tried to reach between us to guide him right to where I needed him, but Asher snagged my hand, shaking his head with a dirty smirk.
“Ten,” he said, bumping up against me again, letting the tip of his dick hit my tight bundle of nerves. “Nine.” Asher leaned down, capturing my lips in a slow kiss. “Eight.” Rocking his hips, he ground against me but didn’t give me what I needed most.
“Seven,” I said, realization dawning on me as I kissed him, almost frenzied, dipping my hands underneath his Henley and raking my nails down his chest, eliciting a low growl from his chest.
“Six.” It was a garbled noise in his throat as he continued dragging himself through my wetness, teasing me.
“Five.” I covered his hand with mine, feeling him hard and heavy and wet between us.
“Four,” we both panted, our breaths mingled with raw lust. “Three...” It was a breathy moan as he pressed closer still but not close enough. “Two...” Asher kissed me again, stealing my breath.
“One.” He thrust inside of me in one smooth glide, my head bumping against leather, my fingers curling around his bicep. “Mya, fuck,” he barked, pulling out and pressing back into me.
Harder.
Deeper.
I hooked my ankles together, careful not to dig the heels of my boots into his back.
“It’s like you were made for me.” Asher kissed the corner of my mouth, dragging his tongue over my lips and plunging deep inside as he continued rocking into me, circling his hips in that perfect way that had me arching off the bench.
“Oh God... Ash... it’s...” I never wanted him to stop. The way his body moved over mine, strong and sure and so damn right. It was the most intense sex I’d ever had.
“Say it,” he whispered against my lips. “Tell me you’re mine, Mya. Tell me you won’t let anything come between us.”
“I’m yours.” The words were caught somewhere between a promise and a breathy moan as I felt the waves of pleasure begin to build inside me.