Chapter Thirty One
Asher
Iwake up with my heart racing and desire winding through me like my ink on canvas. The sound of Blair’s moans filter through my dreams to reality. Sighing, I close my eyes, but it won’t be ignored, so I get up and have a quick shower, which turns into me having to let some of the lust out, yet it’s still not enough. My imagination doesn’t match up with the magnificence of her last night.
With my hair still wet, wearing my loose checked trousers, I pad into the kitchen on bare feet. I stop when I see Blair there. She’s perched on the counter with a bowl in her hands. She smiles when she sees me.
“Morning.”
“Morning,” I reply, walking around until I’m opposite her. I pour some juice for both of us and lean back as I sip it.
“Have you seen some of my drawings lying around?” I inquire, tilting my head.
“No, why?” she asks, dropping the bowl into her lap.
“Some have gone missing is all. I must have misplaced them.” I shrug, putting my glass down. “Not important.” I could have sworn I put them on my bed last night, but they were gone when we got back. I wonder if Bray is hiding them for a prank. He does that sometimes. Either that, or Cyrus, the mardy bastard, has submitted them again. We bought a gallery a while back—well, he did without telling me—and he displays my art. I don’t often go there, I don’t want the praise, I just enjoy painting and drawing.
I watch her as she watches me back, wearing nothing but Bray’s oversized shirt which slips off one shoulder. She has one knee pulled up against her chest, and the other leg swings back and forth on the counter as she dips her finger in the yogurt in her bowl and then sucks it clean.
“You liked watching us last night,” she purrs.
“You liked me watching,” I reply with a smile, and she returns it.
“I did.” She drops her other leg as I lean back into the island.
“What’s for breakfast?” I tease.
“Me,” she purrs, parting her legs to expose her pussy as she grabs her unused spoon from the side and holds it out. “Why not take a taste?”
My heart actually stops, and my cock hardens again as if I didn’t just come last night and then again this morning in the shower.
“You shouldn’t tease me,” I growl. She leans farther back, her legs parted as she grips the shirt and hikes it up, exposing her to my hungry gaze.
“Who said I was teasing?” she replies with a lift of her chin and a smirk. “Thought you were hungry?” Her hands trail up her bare thighs as they spread wider, exposing her glistening cunt for my gaze. Flipping her messy morning hair over her shoulder, she watches me.
Moving closer, I just stare with my tongue caught between my teeth as I admire the different shades of pink and the way her cream glistens against her pussy.
“Just going to stare?” she queries, her voice slightly breathless.
“I was admiring you and trying to burn it into my brain so I can paint it later. Maybe I’ll have you sit still next time I paint, and then I’ll fuck you after. Or maybe I’ll fuck you on the canvas,” I murmur, still staring at her pussy. When I drag my eyes to hers, they are wide.
“Hell yes, let’s do that!”
“Next time,” I say. “I want my breakfast first.” I drop to my knees and settle myself between her thighs, gripping them as I lick a long line up her soft flesh. She whimpers, and her legs twitch in my grasp as I turn my head and do the same to her other leg before dropping a kiss right over her wet, aching pussy.
“Asher,” she whimpers, the sound heading straight to my already rock-solid cock. But I ignore it. This isn’t about me and my pleasure, this is about hers. I want to taste her, to see her go wild for me like she did last night with Bray. I want to feel her surrender, and I want her to let me past those perfectly built walls, even for a moment.
“So beautiful,” I murmur, dragging my fingers down her wet heat before sucking them clean. “You taste like fucking sunshine.”
“Fucking hell,” she mutters, lifting her hips to urge me on, and when I roll my eyes up, hers are closed. Her shirt gapes on one side, exposing one of her little rosebud nipples, and I arch up and suck it into my mouth, unable to resist. She jerks against me and cries out. Popping it free, I kiss down her belly to her pussy, unable to take how fucking beautiful it is. Would she be annoyed if I painted a picture of it and hung it over my bed?
“I swear, Asher, your tongue better—” Her threat ends on a moan as I dip my tongue inside her fluttering hole. She gasps out another moan as I grab her thighs and drag her farther down the counter, throwing her legs over my shoulders so I can gain better access to my new favourite thing—her cunt.
Forget painting, forget drawing. This is the closest thing to peace and heaven I’ll ever be.
She grips my hair and presses her pussy against my mouth as she rubs against me needily. Dragging my tongue up her pussy, I flick her clit over and over until she’s crying out. Then I pull back, spotting what I wanted.
I quickly fire her a look to see her cheeks and chest flushed and heaving. I grab the bowl and drag it closer, smirking as she opens her eyes to see what I’m doing.