Sweetheart [On Hold - Resuming 2023]

16. Euphoria

A minute ago, I was shoveling fajitas into my mouth. Now, I'm sitting on Asher's counter, legs wrapped around his waist, making out with him like the world will end if our tongues go a second without contact.

No complaints on the sequence of events.

His large hands hold me in place as I lean into his chest and tangle my fingers in his thick, smooth hair. His hand on my back drops lower and lower until it cups my ass. I'm overcome by an intense lust with only one cure.

We pull apart for a moment to study each other's reactions. Asher's eyes are darkened, the green flecks barely visible. He's breathing just as heavily as I am. He wants this too.

"As much as I like your counter..." I start, smirking.

"Bedroom?" he asks breathlessly. Swallowing, he adds, "We don't have to do any—"

"I want to," I interrupt.

Pretending to be a meek, sexually unliberated lady is a pointless exercise in self-restraint. I want to fuck. Asher wants to fuck. Why delay the fucking?

"Come on," he murmurs.

Glad we're on the same page.

I slide off the counter and follow him through all-white hallways and decadent rooms, all decorated with black and white photos featuring Asher and unfamiliar faces, until we reach the staircase. Asher pauses on the bottom step, his back against the metal banister, arms outstretched. The moment my hands find his, he pulls me in. I strain on my tiptoes, far too short for this kind of kiss.

Keeping our lips connected, I ascend one step. Asher still has a couple inches on me, but this angle is better, allowing our heads to dip and turn as we kiss. I feel his erection pressing into my waist, a reminder of where we're going.

"Bedroom?" I ask.

"Oh, yeah." He shakes his head, teeth digging into his reddened lower lip, as if he forgot.

At the end of another all-white hallway is Asher's bedroom. The biggest bed I've ever seen, covered in neatly folded blankets and fluffy pillows, stretches across half the space. A recliner and loveseat, both navy-blue, occupy the other half. His room is, for lack of a better word, completely and totally Asher. Warm, welcoming, neat, without a single fiber out of place.

"Whoa," I breathe, noticing the two windows in the middle of his ceiling. From his bed, Asher can look up at the stars.

"I love it in here," he comments. "We can close them if you want, but—"

"No," I whisper. Gazing up at the night sky over Asher's back while he thrusts into me sounds like a perfect plan.

He doesn't respond. Instead, he reclines on the bed, inviting me in. I lock my arms around Asher's neck and let gravity pull bring me into his embrace. We sink into the plush mattress as we kiss. I feel every ridge of his body, his strong fingers running down my neck and back, his lips taking control of mine.