by Julia Kent
And yet, when he held my hand and walked with me through his office building, I felt comfortable and confident. A little less worried and unsure, and much more optimistic. Everything would work out fine, right?
As if reading my mind, when we reached the elevator, Asher leaned down and kissed my forehead. Just a peck, but it eased me into more relaxing thoughts. And then he swooped in for more than a peck, pressing his lips against mine, hard and demanding. I nearly fell over, so caught up in the emotion of his touch. He wrapped his arms around me and held me up and when the elevator dinged its arrival and we should have stepped through the doors, he ignored it.
I kissed him, needing to feel everything he felt for me. His words, his emotions, the slight doubt in the back of his mind and the surety, despite it all, that everything would work out in the end, it shifted from him to me. Our lips acted as a conduit, some amazing miracle of thoughts and sensations. I’d never felt this way before, never kissed anyone like this before, and it overwhelmed me. I needed it so very very badly.
The elevator doors closed on us sometime during our kiss. Maybe a second ago, or a few minutes, but when we paused and he held me close and I looked, the elevator car had passed us by.
“We missed the elevator,” I said, smiling.
Reluctantly leaving a part of our embrace to stretch his hand out, Asher pressed the button again. We watched the numbers above the door, waited for the elevator to greet us once more.
“Do you want to miss it again?” he asked.
I laughed. “Asher!”
Needless to say, when the elevator dinged its second arrival, Asher and I were otherwise preoccupied.
…
Asher was tired, but he couldn’t let it get to him.
Pizza was delicious and dinner went splendidly. Jeremy played an excellent role in all of that, and when Asher gave him a slight nod at the end of the evening while the movie credits rolled, he politely excused himself and went back to the main house to rest for the night.
“I really like that movie,” Jessika said. She curled against him, the warmth of her back heating his chest.
“Pan’s Labyrinth is a wonderful movie,” Asher said. His lips pressed against her neck, kissing up and along her jaw to her earlobe. He blew lightly and whispered into her ear, “Very thought-provoking.”
Jessika laughed a little and cuddled closer to him. She twisted and turned until she faced him over her shoulder and looked at him with such love and affection that he thought it was strong enough to break him into pieces.
“I always worry about the little girl, though. Do you think… do you think it was all in her mind, or…?”
Asher shook his head. “Everything worked out,” he said. “You can never know exactly what happened, but everything worked out in the end. She was happy.”
Jessika nodded, willing to believe it. She looked better now, more comfortable. Asher tightened his embrace, squeezing her against him, feeling the softness of her stomach and the way her body molded perfectly against him with the way he held her.
He thought she was perfect before, but he thought she was even more perfect when he had her in his arms.
…
I dreamed of something. I don’t know exactly what it was, and the ideas flitted away from my mind as soon as I woke. I think perhaps I dreamed of today, and what would happen. Asher, Jeremy, and I hadn’t discussed anything too thoroughly while we sat on the couch in Asher’s guest home, eating three different kinds of pizza, but we’d talked a bit; we’d talked enough.
Asher would confront Beatrice and Solomon and tell them he knew everything. It would all—Oh!
I felt something—a delightful something—warm and urgent in the core of my body. A whisper of breath teased against the bare skin between my thighs. I was sure I’d put on pajamas before going to bed, but apparently I’d lost them sometime in the night. Or was this a dream, too?
I’d asked Asher to make love to me, but he said no. We’d kissed for hours and I kept reaching for his hard cock trapped behind his pajama pants, but he just smirked and eventually moved my hand away. One quick stroke, then two, but he unwrapped my fingers from around my prize and went back to kissing me.
I remember growing more frantic near the end. I tried to stuff my hand in his pants and pull out what was mine, straddle atop him and convince him with my moist feminine wiles at the center of my body, but he denied me. He lifted me off him like I was nothing more than a pet and placed me on my back on the bed and lay atop me and… was he going to? Yes, finally? But, no, he’d trapped me beneath his body and kissed me and while I loved every single moment of it, I’d wanted more.
I opened my eyes, groggy, squirming when something licked lightly at my feminine folds. Looking down, finding myself open and available with the blankets completely gone, I saw Asher with his head between my thighs. His tongue, light and delicate, lapped at my sex.
I was too worked up to put up with his gentleness. I moved my hands to grab his head and pull him up atop me so he could claim my body properly, but…
Why wouldn’t my hands move?
Asher grinned at me as I struggled against my bindings. In a panic I glanced towards my wrists. While I slept he must have moved my arms up and above my head and tied me to one of the rungs of the headboard with a silken shirt. Nothing too sturdy, and if I really tried I could probably rip it into pieces and free myself, but it would take some effort. Effort that I didn’t have at the moment since I was still in somewhat of a daze from having just woken up.
“Asher,” I whined.
“Shh,” he said.
“Ple~ase?” I asked. I wasn’t even sure what I was asking for, but I’d know it when he did it.
His tongue licked along my labia, flittering back and forth, moistening either side of both my lower lips. I gasped and struggled with the bonds, hoping to slip my hands free and escape this erotic torture.
“If you’re good,” Asher said, pausing to caress his tongue from the bottom of my slit up to my clit, lingering, “I’ll give you what you want.”
“I think I was good last night!” I said, exasperated and horny.
He laughed. “What do you mean you were good? You wouldn’t stop trying to make me have sex with you.”
“You want to do it, too!”
“That’s besides the point. I can be patient. There’s no need to rush things.”
He went back to the task at hand, slowly teasing his tongue across my slick folds. He lapped up my arousal, tasting it with the tip of his tongue. This was worse than yesterday when he’d fingered me and told me to relax and chastised me for writhing and bucking my hips against his hand. This was…
His tongue flicked against my clit, hard and fast but gone so soon, like a gentle tap from the end of a whip. I wanted to scream, but instead I tried to remain calm and “good,” as he said. Relatively, anyways, but I still couldn’t help but struggle against the silken shirt binding me to the headboard.
“How long?” I asked.
“Hm?” he said, looking up at me.
“How long do I have to be good before you’ll stop this?”
“Oh, you want me to stop? If you really do, I’ll go downstairs and make breakfast. I can bring it up to you when I’m done. I can’t untie you, though, because I’d rather you didn’t masturbate while I’m gone. Not right now, at least.”
He said it so simply, so matter-of-factly. I couldn’t let this happen!
“No!” I shook my head, fast. “No, no. I don’t want you to leave or stop, but I want you. Inside me. I…”
“Say it,” he said.
“Asher…” I whimpered.
“We’re both adults here, Jessika. If you want something, you need to let me know.”
It made sense, and yet… I remembered Beatrice the other day, and the conversation I overheard while she talked with Solomon on the phone. Their dirty, raunchy sex talk, and… ugh, the thoughts of it. And yet… this was different, too.
I sighed. Slo
w, deliberate, I said, “I want your long, hard cock deep inside…”
“Yes?” he asked, prompting me further.
“Deep…” I hesitated, but Asher goaded me further with a compelling lick from his tongue. “I want your long, hard cock deep inside my pussy,” I said, embarrassed, rushing the words out in one hasty breath.
“Sixty seconds,” he said. “If you remain calm and still for one minute, I’ll do everything you want.”
“I want to be on top,” I said quickly.
Asher lifted one brow, smirking. “Alright. Deal.”
I endured. Asher licked at my folds, languorous and with no real goal in mind. He liked to tease me, it seemed, and watch me squirm, but, oh no, I wouldn’t give him the joy of it. I counted down the seconds in my head, being generous with my estimation.
He circled his tongue around my clit, then just barely teased at the hood and the center of my pleasure spot. I bit my lower lip, focusing on the the numbers and counting and praying that the slightest twitch from my leg didn’t count against me.
Halfway to my goal, Asher grew more frantic. Not much, nothing over the top, but he licked in longer strokes, flattening his tongue and touching more of me all at once. This was cheating or something, and I wanted to yell that out to him, but then what? He’d make me start all over again, probably! Argh.
With ten seconds left, Asher abandoned his initial plan. He kept his tongue on me, tempting me, but he added two fingers. Probing inside me, slow at first but picking up speed, he played with me like some fascinating toy. My God, if he just let me, I’d happily let him wind me up and watch me bounce around the room(or on top of him, as it were), but I doubted he’d accept that offer so easily.
Five seconds. Deeper. Three seconds. His fingertips tweaked at my g-spot. One second. He never relented and was one-hundred percent trying to make me lose this game.
Except now it was over. “I won!” I shrieked. At that same moment, Asher must have decided the exact same thing.
This time he didn’t tease me, but was full-on coaxing me to orgasm. In my desperate attempt at staving off my pleasure, I didn’t realize how pent up I was. Or, I’d realized it, but I really really needed to forget about it and play his game or I knew he’d keep teasing me forever. But, now? Oh, no, I’d won alright.
I thrashed on the bed against Asher’s mouth. He had a smug, annoyingly attractive look on his face, like he thought he’d won this game instead of me. Maybe in a way he had, or perhaps we both did. I didn’t quite care at the moment.
My pulse quickened and my breath came out in sharp, shallow gasps. I pleaded with him and begged him not to stop, or to untie me, or wait no, if he stopped to untie me that was…
My back arched as the first wave of pleasure slammed into my body. Asher never stopped, continued licking at my sex, and whenever he flicked his tongue against my oversensitive clit, I reeled in shock. My inner walls clenched against his fingers, trying to suck his hand inside of me, but he kept his motions firm and insistent upon my rugged, inner pleasure point.
During my orgasm, squeezing my hands into fists and unintentionally pulling against my bindings, I ripped the silken shirt in two and freed myself from the headboard. Enough, not enough. Oh God.
Not even knowing what came over me, I grabbed Asher’s face and pulled him away from my crotch. He looked surprised, but impressed. In a frenzy, I pushed at him and told him to get on his back, to… why did he have pajama pants on still? I pulled them off, delighted when his hard cock popped free in front of me. Asher watched me, smiling, and I shimmied atop him and centered myself over his erection.
I moved down, fit myself onto the head of his cock, and then pushed hard against it, taking all of him inside of me in one go. Everything beyond that was a mess of sensation, sweaty and sticky and pure, unadulterated bliss.
…
I lay on top of Asher, panting. He was panting, too. He finished inside of me, but I didn’t want to get off him, so I kept him in me while the aftereffects of our sexual romp settled inside me. I felt so glorious and glowing and like this was the way everyone should wake up every day. Oh my God, I was physically tired, but now completely awake.
“You’re rough,” Asher said, smiling. “I shouldn’t have used such a flimsy shirt.”
“I liked that,” I said. “I mean, I was kind of annoyed, but… I liked that.”
“I never meant to upset you,” he said, “but…”
“If you do that again I’m going to have sex with you in your sleep,” I said, defiant.
He laughed. “Promise?”
“I love you,” I said all of a sudden. I don’t know why, but it felt right.
“I love you, too,” he said.
Leaning up to kiss me, just a quick one at first, he decided it best to do it properly and pulled me down into it. I went willingly. Maybe I’d quenched my carnal desire(for the time being), but I still wanted him so badly. To be with him, to be near him, talking, touching, small, inconsequential things, nothing important, not all the time. Just him and I and everything, all of ourselves.
“We need to get up,” Asher said. “I need to find out if Beatrice is here. She wasn’t last night, which probably made everything a little easier, but we can’t put this off. I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen, but it needs to happen today.”
“Alright,” I said, nodding. “I’ll help. I’ll do whatever I can, Asher.”
“I know,” he said. “Thank you. I really do appreciate it.”
He went to take a shower, leaving me to languish in bed. I watched him strip off his shirt through the open bathroom door. I hadn’t bothered with that article of clothing when I’d freed myself from the headboard since it hadn’t seemed necessary to my goal. Seeing Asher strip the rest of his pajamas off right in front of me, then walk over to the bathtub and turn the shower on was oddly erotic, though. Maybe he had a good point with patience and relaxing, because if I’d removed his clothes entirely I wouldn’t have gotten to see this show.
After testing the water with his hand, Asher stepped into the steaming shower. Not all the way, though, not entirely. Before he closed the door he looked at me. Something in his eyes, a glimmer of admiration. He crooked his finger, beckoning for me to join him. I watched him disappear behind the frosted glass of the shower door.
Scrambling out of bed, I bounded towards the bathroom, slipped out of my pajama tanktop just like he had, and pulled open the shower door. I jumped inside, into his arms. He smiled at me and held me close to him while hot water from the showerhead streamed across our bodies.
“Glad you could make it,” Asher whispered into my ear, kissing my earlobe.
“I missed you,” I said, giving him a silly smile.
“Because I was so far away?” he asked.
I nodded twice. “Mhm!”
He ran his hands across my body, letting water cup between my skin and his palms, and then sluiced it over me. I tried to do the same, but he stopped me. “Not yet,” he said.
I nodded and stood and let him wash me. He grabbed a bottle of body wash from a shelf off to the side and squirted some into his hand. Lathering it between his palms, he gathered a good amount of bubbles and then slid the soapy foam across my body. He coaxed me to lift my chin and coated my neck with soap, then down my shoulders and my arms, between each of my fingers. He washed me, focusing on my chest. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, letting out a moan when he squeezed my breasts in his hands and toyed with my nipples.
My breasts were apparently very dirty, so he spent a lot of time there. Before I could moan again, he pressed his mouth to mine and kissed me. The sound went from my throat into his, reverberating between us. I laughed.
“Asher!” I said, regaining some composure. “We’re showering! You said we have things to do.”
“I did, didn’t I?” he said, coy.
His hands roamed lower, across my stomach. He pressed a finger into my belly button and tickled my side with his other hand.
Then, without warning, he pulled me closer. Spinning me around so my back was against his chest, latching his lips onto my neck, warm water from the shower spraying against my breasts and my stomach, he held me tight. All semblance of washing left us, with only the soap remaining to remind us of what we were supposed to be doing.
Asher slipped his hand between my thighs and rubbed at my clit. I staggered, but he stepped back and braced us against the rear of the shower so neither of us would fall.
“Just once more,” he said. “Please. I know we have important things to do, but just once more?”
I nodded. “It won’t take a lot,” I said. “I’m really horny today. I don’t know why.”
He didn’t reply, just sucked on my neck. His teeth bit lightly into my soft skin and his fingers pressed and stroked against my clit.
“Like that,” I said. “Just like that. Don’t stop.”
He didn’t, never. I closed my eyes and thought about him and what we’d just done on the bed, what we were doing now. Leaning my head back, I relaxed and let him take me. It was probably the shortest build up to orgasm I’d ever experienced.
The familiar feelings of climax bubbled up inside me and then burst out. I tensed, unfamiliar with the sensation of doing this while standing. “Now,” I said. “Now, don’t stop, please. Just, just lighter. Softer.”
He softened, but remained insistent, his fingers brushing against my clit. He held me up with his other hand and squeezed my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said. “I love watching you like this.”
“I want to, too. I…”
I was at a loss for words, swept up in pleasure. The rippling echoes of my climax shivered through me, delightful and sweet. When they lessened, calmed to a faint swell, I loosened Asher’s hands from me and slipped away from him. Getting to my knees, resting on the slippery floor of the tub, I gazed up at him, lovingly.