His Absolute Insistence: A Scandalous Billionaire Love Story (Jessika, #2)

by du Lys, Cerys

  Asher crawled onto the bed, prowling over me. He grabbed the bust line of my dress, dug his fingers into the fabric, and pulled roughly, ripping it down the middle. I gasped.

  "Asher! That's an expensive dress," I protested, nearly squeaking in aroused excitement.

  "Fuck the dress," he said. "It's in my way."

  He ripped the rest of it off until I lay on the bed in nothing more than tatters. I didn't need a bra with this dress, so I lay there in only my panties. Asher delicately wrapped his fingers around the waistband of my underwear, his powerful hand pressing against my pubis. With one sharp wrench, he peeled and pulled my panties down my legs, then threw them to the floor.

  ***

  My breath quickened, frantic and fast, when Asher crawled closer towards me. He grabbed the insides of both of my thighs, one for each of his aggressive hands, and prowled closer and closer. His head dipped low, bending close to my body. His back arched slightly, then fell low, too. The ripped shirt covering his torso dropped to the sides, revealing his toned chest. That was the last thing I saw before Asher pressed his mouth against my soft skin.

  I gasped, loud, when he kissed me there. So caught up in staring at him and his salacious eyes, his smooth, delicious movements, I didn't quite realize what he'd intended on doing to me. But, no, now I knew. His tongue slid from the bottom of my arousal-slick sex, dipping into me and tasting my need for him, then up. He pressed past my labia, spreading them with the sides of his tongue, until he reached the very bottom of my clit. With a sweeping swirl, the tip of his tongue lapped at my sensitive nub.

  I gasped again, body tightening, hips squirming. Asher held my legs apart, spreading them further, even as I tried to clench them shut. I didn't know why, I didn't want to. I wanted more, and yet my body acted as if this were some awful horror. Pleasure? What was that?

  Asher knew how to force his own will and demands onto me, though. His tongue teased downwards again, licking at my feminine folds. He slinked closer to me on the bed, slithering like some primeval snake. If I was the Garden of Eden, he was the one who would undo me, delve deep to taste of my forbidden fruit.

  His tongue pressed deeper inside of me, swirling and tasting my slickening arousal. Desirous lips pressed against the bottom of my pubic mound, kissing and sucking and drinking, thirsty for my lust. I watched him for a moment longer before my eyes clenched shut, or rolled into the back of my head, or something like that. I didn't know; I only knew that I couldn't see anymore and I didn't want to because it didn't matter.

  My hands lay there, limp, uncertain of what to do. I wanted to do something, but I didn't know what or how. Fingers, lost in love and lust, clenched at the bed covers, then loosened, clenched again. I lifted one hand in the air, holding it there, meaning to do something with it and then forgetting what it was I meant to do. I grabbed one of my breasts and squeezed just as Asher wriggled his tongue upwards and circled around my clit, gently pushing aside the hood to tempt and tease at the pleasant little spot hidden therein. I squeezed my breast harder, then pinched my nipple harder than that, unsure what I wanted to focus on or what exactly I should do.

  I should do something. Or nothing. Either one.

  I grabbed the back of Asher's head with my hands and pulled him close to me while bucking my hips up and pressing into him. Surprised, distracted, he accidentally scraped his teeth against the hood of my clit, a light little touch. Not much, not exactly, but I was sensitive and lost in passion and it felt like too much, too sudden and abrupt. I lowered my hips, pulling away from him, but some part of me wanted more, to go back, to feel what it would be like to have him nip and nibble my clit like he sometimes did to my nipples and my breasts.

  He held my legs apart with his shoulder now, refusing to let me close them no matter what. Yes, good, a small part of me thought. Just a small part, though. The rest of me didn't think at all. I held his hair in my hands and my fingers, pressing greedy fingertips into his scalp and pulling at his roots.

  Without warning or hesitation, he plunged two fingers deep into me. I bucked up again, hips dancing with the rhythm of my lust, his hands guiding me like we were expert dance partners. Asher expected it this time, he knew just what to do.

  While his fingers pressed deep into me, he latched his lips around my clit, sealing my pearl of passion and pleasure in his mouth. He sucked, sucked more, forcing the little nub to move further into his mouth. Too much, oh fuck. I pulled at his hair harder, bucked my hips up more, ground my fingernails into his scalp.

  Did it hurt? I didn't know. I was too far past thinking about it to consider anything more than a small part of my body—my clit—lost inside of Asher's mouth.

  His tongue licked slowly at the very topmost part of my clit, making me writhe. My hips moved, side to side or in circles or somewhere. I didn't know that either. They moved on their own, according to some unknown goal.

  Asher's tongue slipped to the side, gently teasing around the outside of my clit. It would have felt soft and nice if he weren't also sucking my skin into his mouth, sending a surge of blood and desire into my already swollen clit. His fingers didn't help much, either. Or, they didn't help me to think better, but they definitely helped with other alternative options.

  Fingertips rubbed against my inner depths, pressing against the walls of my pussy. He went slow at first, searching, and then he found what he liked.

  Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

  Sudden and glaring, everything came together. My clit, too much, except I wanted more, then inside me, feeling me, pressing roughly against all the right spots. Suction. Lips. Need lust desire passion. My husband and I, together, him exploring my body, drawing an intricate map of my carnal cravings.

  I came. Hard. Fast. It happened, just happened. I realized it in some way, but I didn't know how it happened or when it started. I just felt it; it was the only thing I could feel. Asher caused it, he made me this way, but I felt outside of myself somehow, drifting through time and space, astral. This was something entirely else, something totally different from what I knew before.

  And then, gone.

  No, no, no.

  I thought it, and then I said it. "No, no, no, Asher, no, no..."

  My orgasm, denied. Somewhat. It had started, but just as it did, just as I clenched against Asher's fingers in convulsive climax, my rapacious husband removed them from inside of me. His lips let loose, tongue stopped, and he left me like that on the bed.

  My sex, my labia, my clit, maybe my entire body... it begged him to return. I felt cool where I thought I should feel warm. His warm mouth had vanished, leaving me isolated and in sexual mourning.

  Asher threw off his shirt. He practically ripped off his pants and kicked his shoes aside, tearing his socks from his feet in the process. He grabbed my legs and pulled me down the bed. I still wore my dress, sort of. Not much of a dress anymore, all things considered, but it clung to my arms. Asher flipped me onto my stomach, then peeled the dress away from my body, discarding it onto the floor with my panties.

  My knees touched against the edge of the bed while my calves and my feet hung off the sides. I didn't know how I felt about this. I didn't think I liked it. I was in the midst of orgasmic pleasure, and then he just stopped, and...

  Asher pushed my legs together, straddling above them. He was naked now. I looked back over my shoulder and saw him towering over me. Erect and approaching, his cock twitched and bounced with each step he made. He was coming for me. He wanted me.

  His hands grabbed at my hips, holding me tight and pinning me in place. I went to spread my legs, to give him access to my body and my sex, my urgent arousal, but he kept them clamped shut with his knees. I didn't know what that was. I didn't know why he did that.

  I found out soon enough.

  He bent forward, one knee pressed against the bed. His body replaced his hands in pinning me down. Instead of holding my waist, he grabbed each of my wrists and pulled them up, holding them above my head against the bed. I couldn't see,
nor move. I had my cheek pressed into the bed covers, along with my squashed breasts, my stomach, and my knees and thighs. Asher's face loomed close to mine, the warmth of his breath tickling at my ear.

  He poked and prodded with his cock, searching for my slit. The head of his cock was slick with precum and slid along the curves of my ass, leaving a trail of glistening wet arousal. He moved, his hips moved, lower, bending, this way and that. Fast, exploring, searching.

  Finding.

  He managed to lodge the head of his cock between my folds despite the fact that my legs were clamped shut by his knee on one side and his foot on the other. Then he pressed forward slowly, pushing into me. A little, more, an inch, further.

  He had enough of that. He was in. He wasn't going anywhere. He wouldn't leave me. He wouldn't let me go.

  He thrust into me in one powerful movement, filling me entirely. His cock pounded into my pussy and I gasped out loud, almost screaming my ecstasy. Further up the bed, the headboard slammed against the wall. It would leave dents, almost without a doubt. I thought of that for half a second, but the thought was only worth half a second to me.

  Asher thrust deeper, grinding into me. He wanted more, more of me, more of my tight, greedy, wanton pussy clenching around his thick hard shaft. He filled me with all of him until his hips pressed against my ass, pushing me hard into the bed. My sore clit scraped against the bed covers.

  They weren't expensive blankets or sheets. The thought hit me suddenly, for no real reason. Except, no, there was a reason.

  At our home, together, Asher and I slept on a bed with some of the finest sheets. Blankets, too. They were soft and smooth, silken. They felt nice to roll in, to have sex on, to sleep in.

  My sheets in my apartment weren't quite like that. Neither were the blankets. I liked them, and they were warm and soft, but a little rough. Fuck, yes, they were rough.

  Rough cotton scraped against my oversensitive and sore clit. I tried to move, to squirm away. Too much. Pleasure. Fuck. No. Yes. What? Um...

  Wow.

  My orgasm had come to a somewhat abrupt stop, mostly because Asher denied me my pleasure, but it came surging back in full force now. I spasmed beneath him, my pussy pulling and sucking and grabbing onto his erection. I took a deep breath, inhaling, but then I held it, forgetting to exhale.

  He pulled out of me even while I tried to hold him inside of me. He pulled out until only the head of his cock remained inside of me, and then he slammed back in hard. The headboard crashed against the wall again.

  Asher pulled out again, faster this time. Then thrust in, hard. Out, in, quicker, harder. More. Again. Over and over. The headboard pounded against the wall, sounding like the harsh fists of an angry neighbor knocking on the door. For all I knew, maybe that was what was happening, too. I couldn't see. I couldn't hear anything except for the sound of the headboard beating against the wall and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, Asher's hips against my ass, with the slick noise of his intruding cock pounding into me.

  Orgasm overtook me. It had overtaken me. Once, then again. Once. Once more. Again. How many times? I didn't know. I convulsed and contracted, my inner walls clamping onto and clenching against his cock.

  I couldn't move. Asher wouldn't let me. Every part of him kept every part of me confined and contained, trapped against the bed. All I could do was open my mouth to scream.

  I did. I tried. He wouldn't let me do that, either.

  He let go of my wrist with one hand and curled his fingers into my mouth. I sucked on them, greedy. I wanted them. I wanted them like I wanted his cock. I wanted it inside of me, and in my mouth, in my hands. I wanted it everywhere. All at once. Part of me knew that was impossible, but the rest of me didn't care. I wanted what I wanted; logic and rational thought took a backseat to sexual fantasy.

  I swirled my tongue around his fingers, tasting him. My mouth grew dry from being forced to stay open, all while my pussy grew more slick and wet with lust. Asher used and abused me, slamming hard into me.

  We were going to break my bed. I didn't even care. What kind of bed was this? A terrible one if it broke so easily. Maybe it didn't break that easily, it wouldn't, but Asher and I, our bodies, were on a rampage. I thought we should have broken the bed, but the bed defied us and remained intact. The headboard and the wall might have hated us, though.

  I smiled somehow, giddy and gleeful. Face scrunched up in the pleasure of orgasm, body tight, pinned to the bed, lost in constant climax... I was happy. So very very happy.

  Lots of bad things had happened recently, but none of them mattered. The only thing that mattered was this, here and now, me, Asher, us, together.

  And...

  This was my best time of the month to get pregnant. It was ours. We were close, soon and now and together. We would try. We could. I knew we could. We could do it together.

  Asher slammed hard into me, holding himself there. I squeezed against him, holding him inside of me, gripping his cock with every muscle I could manage. My thighs clenched, holding him there, and my butt squeezed and tightened.

  He came. He filled me. His seed spurted out of his cock and splashed against the innermost depths of my core, cascading against my cervix and seeking entrance to my womb. I wanted it to. I wanted it so much. I needed it.

  Supposedly a woman's orgasm can help the man's cum get further inside of her than it could get on its own. Not that it always needed help, but... if that was the case, then I was helping. A lot. I felt Asher twitch and shudder inside of me, his cock fighting against my own convulsive grip. More and more, he filled me with his seed. I felt delirious for it, greedy for it, needing more and more of it.

  Maybe. Maybe this was it. I lay there, soft and gentle and relaxed. He stayed inside of me. We were both done now, calm and comfortable. I felt him twitch slightly and I squeezed against him in return. That was us, that was this. His body and his cock kept me safe, kept us safe. He kept his seed in me, locked in place, sealed, with nowhere to go, but...

  I didn't know if this exact time was it. I knew I would never know. I wanted it, though. Maybe not right right now, but right now soon. Today, or yesterday, or even tomorrow. Possibly the day after. One of those, or even all of them.

  We would. We would have a baby. Together. Ours.

  A strange thought sidled into my mind, an unknown option.

  What if we had more than one?

  I lay there, breathing shallowly and smiling, while Asher lay atop me. I didn't know how long we lay like that, but I would have been fine if we stayed that way forever. I would have been happy like that.

  I was already happy like that.

  ***

  Sex made me hungry again. Sex also made me feel exhilarated. I was happy and I wanted to skip around the room, even though my legs felt weak and maybe I kind of wanted to lay down and take a nap or kiss, or have sex again. Sex was a very nice thing, I thought.

  Asher laughed at me while I smiled at him in my post-orgasmic daze. I smiled and I kissed him, first on the nose, then the lips, then more on the lips. He chuckled and squeezed me close, but then I slinked away and fell onto the bed on my back. It jumped and creaked and moaned. I kind of wanted to moan, I thought. During sex, of course. With or without the bed. The bed didn't really matter. I didn't care about the bed.

  "Asher," I said, finding my voice hidden somewhere behind a giddy smile. "Are you hungry?"

  A Note from Cerys

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  ~*~

  Well then! Things are picking up!

  When I first started this series, along with the concurrent series following alongside it (Elise's Love Story), I didn't realize exactly the extent of everything that was going to be involved. My favorite part of writing i
s figuring out how to tie all (or most) of my ideas together into one story. I think it's fun and challenging and exciting in its own way, and this story is probably one of the most challenging I've ever done. For me, as I'm writing it, what I really enjoy is all of the intricate details linking everything together, you know? There's something really fascinating about it to me.

  What I'm hoping is that you'll really enjoy reading it, as well. I left some hints in His Absolute Arrangement about what was going to come in this one (Jessika finding out that one of the camera SD cards was missing). There's some hints in this one that are going to lead into the next, too. What's really fun for me is that there are hints in this one about Elise and Lucent's story, also. I'm trying to keep those a little more minimized, because this is Jessika's Love Story afterall, but I like the idea of entangling the two couples together in a different sort of way. And, there'll be hints about Jessika and Asher in Elise's Love Story, too. It should be really interesting and exciting.

  I do like the suspense, mystery, and thriller aspect, but I don't want to forget about the romance, either. I think everything is leading up to more, though. Jessika and Asher are not only learning more about each other over the course of the story, but they're learning more about themselves, too. I want to make sure that Jessika can be her own person, and not just "Asher's Wife," but I also want to make sure that Asher realizes just what kind of wife he has, too. His previous marriage was nothing like this, and going by some revelations in this story, he's never really had many serious relationships before this, so...

  I think everything will work out, though. It's a bit rough right now, but I think it's rough in an interesting way.

  One thing I enjoyed is the idea that not everything can be solved with money. I mean, obviously they can rebuild the part of the mansion that was set on fire (there's not a whole lot of damage to the building, just computer stuff), but is that it? Is that actually fixing the problem or is it just paying money and hoping it goes away? You can't fix every issue in life by just throwing money at it, either. I think Jessika's a little more sensitive to that sort of thing because she's never really had extra money before. It's probably something Asher needs to learn about, as well, but we shall see...