Chapter 113
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A single finger rolls down my spine; he unclips the bra, yanking it off my arms by the straps. I don't know where it ends up after that.
His hands palm over my naked breasts, covering them fully. He pushes inward, my soft skin pressing through the gaps of his fingers as my chest overflows from the pressure. Gasping, I toss my head back, enduring the hard jolt of delicious pleasure. My nipples firm and dig into his palms; he loosens his hold, making light circles over my nipples, playing with me until I see stars.
"Oh!" I moan. 'Yes."
I rub myself against his pelvis, ramping the speed, the force, until I expect smoke to start forming. The friction is perfect on my clit. If I keep at it, I'll come just from this. He hikes my skirt up, rolling my panties downward. I'm not satisfied by this; the texture of my skirt is too much for my sensitive skin. I rip it up, over my chest, until it comes over my head.
Asher stops moving; he levels a look on me, taking in the view of my nudity. His cock flexes beneath me. "Take off your pants," I demand.
He pops the top button; I rise up on my knees so he can shimmy the clothing off entirely. I start to lower myself, but he catches my hips, shoving me down firmly on top of his shaft. It sandwiches between us, sizzling with heat, the girthy tip poking my navel.
Capturing my chin, he leads me to him until our mouths connect. The kiss is quick; he nips my tongue, my brain fizzling like it's full of pop rock candy. "On your knees," he whispers.
The lounger isn't big enough for me to do that without kneeling in the sand. I don't consider the consequences, I just hop off, my breasts resting on his thighs while I fist the base of his cock. I'll never be bored of the feel of him in my mouth. I lap at the wavy veins, then swirl around his cock-head. The flared base is pleasant on my tongue.
Coating him in saliva I work him down my throat. My gagging is audible, but his groans are louder. I've made him wet enough that I can pump my hand along his cock while suckling the head. Asher rocks side to side, unable to hold still. This is one of the few times I have power over him, and it's insanely hot.
"Fuck," he breathes, grabbing at my shoulders. "Stop, I don't want to finish in your mouth."
Too bad.
Ignoring his plea, I fist him faster, my fingers squeezing. His cock throbs in my throat, promising me the sweet taste of his jizz. Reaching down I finger myself. I want to be the one in control, but I can't resist my own need to come.
"No," he snarls. "If we're doing this, we're doing it right."
He lunges forward, scooping me around my middle. In a powerful flex of his upper body, he lifts me from the sand. Falling backwards, he contorts us until I'm kneeling over his face, my mouth still over his cock. It's a proper sixty-nine and I am here for it.
Spreading my thighs, Asher pets my pussy from behind. I see spots of color, nearly fainting sideways off the lounger. "Oh my god," I whine.
He taps my ass lightly. "Back to work." His tongue curls around my slit, the circles of it tightening as he draws near my clit. Taking his cue, I focus on his cock in front of me. I lather the tip, enjoying the bead of precum. It tastes like the ocean, which is fitting for where we are.
Faster and faster, I stroke him in my palm. I widen my jaw, slapping the tip of his dick on my tongue. I can't take him deep, not when he's eating me out. I need to breathe or I'll black out.
With perfect aim he flicks over my sensitive clit. Tremors have begun in my belly, my legs shaking, knees locking. His cock swells in my mouth. Our timing is lining up, both of us chasing orgasm while doing our best to please the other.
He groans behind me, the sound crunching like the earth itself is splitting apart. He's lost in his passion, but still, he rubs my clit. The man is devoted to making me come... it's instinctual.
The first explosion of his seed on my tongue sends me over the cliff. Panting wildly, I shiver as I come. I'm sweltering, my body coiled and tight, my pussy a flurry of blissful quakes. As violent as my orgasm is I dutiful gulp down Asher's cum, refusing to spill a single a drop on the parched sands.
Asher spins me around, kissing me, letting me taste myself on his lips.
"That was amazing," I say dreamily. "But we should go inside before we get sunburned."
"I could just get some sunblock and rub it all over you," he suggests with a smirk.
My heart thrums at the idea. "We're here for a few days."
"Fine," he concedes reluctantly. "I could stand to rinse off in the shower, anyway. Let's freshen up."
He helps me off the lounger, and as I kiss him lightly on tip-toe, he gives me a wolfish grin. Before I can react, he smacks my ass, the sound cracking in the air. It's not a hard slap, just enough to make my skin tingle and my pussy throb.
"That ass is distracting. You're right, we should protect something this precious from the sun."
I giggle before sprinting towards the bungalow. He chases after me, catching up once I'm at the outdoor rain shower. We drench ourselves in the pleasant water, removing sweat and sand until I feel lighter.
"Look, they gave us robes!" I yank one of the white cotton robes off of a peg hanging near the outdoor shower. Sliding it on, I belt it into place. "Fancy."
"They go all out here," he agrees. Dressing himself in a robe, he smooths his wet hair off his forehead. "Wait until you see dinner spread they do."
"Dinner?" I chew my knuckle lightly. "Is it really that good?"
"Three Michelin stars. Almost as good as Danil's cooking."
I roll my eyes with a groan, and Asher pauses, watching me with the look of a man who wants round two.
"I don't want to miss that. Let me dry my hair, figure out what I'm wearing."
Inside the bungalow I find the bedroom. Someone has arranged rose petals in a heart on the blanket. In a damp silver bucket on a small table is a bottle of champagne. We were too busy fucking on the beach to notice what the resort has arranged for us. Laughing in chagrin, I sit on the mattress and flick at the petals. The next thing I know I'm stretching out on top of them with a yawn. This bed is incredible! I'll have to figure out what brand the mattress and pillows are, then Asher can buy us one for our home.
Our home.
It's crazy to realize we've been living together for over nine months. I tried to convince Mom to move in with us, explaining the mansion had the space, but she stubbornly resisted. The one concession she made was to stay there and help with Steven while we went on our honeymoon.
Steven. I rub my belly. It's a hard habit to break. My baby is happy and healthy and real, but he isn't with me. I wish he was. It's okay to have fun with your husband. That, too, is real now. Asher had gathered the documents, and we signed them with my mother as a witness the week after Steven was born. I didn't care about the papers, Asher had felt like my husband for months, having it documented was incidental.
But having my mother there to be part of the event, small as it was, meant everything.
"Camila?"
I sit up; Asher is standing in the doorway. He's replaced his robe with a loose button down the shade of palm-bark and long shorts that stop at his calves, showing off the thick muscles. He looks amazing in such a casual outfit with his hair still damp. "Sorry, I got distracted," I say.
"Can't blame you. Bed looks very comfortable." His eyebrows rise playfully. If I gave a hint of agreement, he'd jump on me right now. It's incredibly hard not to crook my finger at him and let him do it.
I nod at his outfit. "Let me get my clothes from the luggage. I can be ready to go out in ten."
"Take your time," he says.
"You don't mind?"
His smirk could saw a tree in half. "As long as I get to watch, you can take as long as you want."
Blushing, I allow him to help me pick what to wear. Asher has me try on multiple outfits—I think mostly because he's enjoying seeing me take everything off each time—before settling on a flowing, thigh-high yellow strapless dress.
"You think this is the one?" I ask, turning side to side and playing with the pleats. Asher rises off the bed, placing his hands on my hips. My blood becomes lava—I've been getting worked up putting on a show for him.
His eyes are half-hooded. "It'll be perfect for dancing in."
"Dancing?" I ask with a surprised laugh. "What kind of dancing?"
"My hands all over your body while you grind those beautiful hips of yours." He rocks mine for emphasis, and I exhale sharply. "Let's go before I decide to say fuck it all and throw you on this bed."
It's a challenge to leave the bungalow, but my growling stomach is dictating my needs.
Once we eat, I'll have plenty of energy to test that bed out with him.
Asher wasn't kidding about the food.
Three massive buffets, all run by staff in chef coats who are either hand-cooking, carving, or serving dishes, stretch out on the beach. The sun has started setting, creating a hazy purple that morphs into the deep blue of the ocean. There are no waves, it looks like a pane of tempered glass.
On one side of the sand is a live band. They pound on their instruments, notes whistling in the evening air that's finally cooled down to a pleasant temperature. Other couples are eating, while some dance on the huge platform that's been set up to keep people from twisting their ankles in the sand.
"You made it!"
I turn, startled by the sight of our concierge Luke. He's wearing a casual, floral-patterned top with a deep V-neck and cargo shorts.
"Oh, hey," I say.
He looks at us, grinning. "When you didn't call me for anything after we left, I worried I'd upset you somehow."
"No, not at all!" I insist. "I swear I was just overtired before. I'm sorry, again, about how I acted."
His shrug is aloof. "I imagine you took a nap."
I hope he doesn't notice me blushing. "Yup." Something like that.
"Well, good!" He claps me on the shoulder the way a coach would do to a player at a sporting event. "Enjoy the rest of the evening. Don't miss the sunset, it's more stunning than any other in the world."
Once he's walked off into the crowd, I shake my head, turning in place. Asher is behind me with a pair of purple-orange drinks. He's looking at where Luke went. "Everything okay?"
"Yes, he was just checking in." Taking one of the glasses, I sip from it to find an excuse not to keep explaining. "Wow, this is delicious! Hey, want to go check out the music?"
He keeps staring into the group of other people. "Yeah, okay."
Eager to escape the uneasy situation I power-walk to the stage. Half my drink is gone by the time I set my sandal-clad foot on top of the smooth wood. Asher studies me with a frown that refuses to go away. "Try your drink," I suggest. Once he does, I take the glass, then set it and my own on the tray of a passing waiter. Asher blinks warily, his confusion growing when I take his hands, pulling him deeper onto the stage. "You promised me we'd dance."
There—the frown morphs into a pleased smile. He grips my hands more firmly. "I did."
I let him take the lead, enjoying how he takes me to the center with confidence. I've seen how he carries himself in day-to-day life, his dexterity in the kitchen, his speed and strength when saving me from danger. I'm expecting great things from his dancing.
The band changes the tune they're playing. Two men blast on tubas, another on a sax. It sounds like the type of music Asher put on when we were driving to the safehouse. His eyes flash, a vibrant energy coming over him. "Ready?"
"Sure," I half-laugh. "You don't need to look so intense."
He smirks ear to ear, one hand gliding down my arm, over my elbow, leaving pleasant ripples everywhere he touches. He ends by gripping my lower back, just above my ass. Suddenly it's harder to draw a full breath.
I was wrong. He's not great.
He's incredible.
