He wrapped his free hand around my neck again, pressing down enough to cut off my air.
Oh fuck.
The most incredible sensations flowed over me. Everything was magnified. Colors were brighter, sounds were clearer, and the pleasure from his hand moving over my dick was overwhelming.
I was trying to breathe, struggling against his hand, which he squeezed tight enough to show me exactly who was boss.
Him.
He was watching me, his dark eyes boring into mine as he jerked me fast and hard, still controlling my air.
He must have sensed the moment the panic set in because he loosened his hold enough I could pull in a raspy breath.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his eyes never leaving my face as he pressed back down on my throat.
I should have been terrified.
This was Ash.
The guy who hated me as much as I hated him. Yet I was letting him choke me out as he jerked me?
I couldn’t explain why, but I trusted him to know when enough was enough.
I wouldn’t trust him with an old candy wrapper, but for some fucked-up reason I trusted him to not suffocate me before he made me come.
“That’s it, slut.” His voice was strangled, his breathing fast. “You gonna come for me? You gonna shoot your load all over yourself?”
A pathetic little gurgle escaped my lips as he loosened his hold just enough I could gulp in a shaky breath.
He pressed back down, and my vision went white as the strongest, most intense orgasm I’d ever experienced hit.
I bucked and shook against the fridge, his hand working my dick as I shot my load over his fist.
He was staring at me, his eyes so intense they were almost frightening.
Almost.
Not being able to breathe as I came only heightened my senses, and I sank into a place of pure pleasure, allowing it to take me away as the afterglow set in.
He let go of my dick and throat at the same time but kept his body against mine and held me up so I didn’t slide to the floor again.
After a moment, reality hit, and the residual pleasure evaporated as I realized what had just gone down.
He’d played me. Again.
I glared at him
Ash smirked and stepped back.
“Don’t fuck with my stuff again. Next time I might not be so charitable.”
Oh, fuck.
That shouldn’t have been hot.
He tucked himself back into his jeans, grabbed his shower caddy, and walked out of the kitchen like nothing had happened.
My legs gave out for the second time in ten minutes, and I slid down the fridge.