Page 92 of Asher Black (The Five Syndicates)
He takes in my naked form, his eyes journeying up and down the length of me, gleaming in lust and appreciation. Then, he continues to stroke himself while looking at my body. His lips part, and I think a groan comes out of them, but I can’t hear.
And Holy Hell, do I want to hear.
I rip the headphones out of my ears, tossing them carelessly onto the floor with the rest of my dignity. The magnetic pull that’s always existed between us tugs me until I’m right in front of the shower, and the glass door is the only thing that separates us.
When I place one hand on the glass, his does the same, right over mine, shifting himself so he’s face to face with me. I can open the door, and I’ll be in there with him in a second. This isn’t like that first night when we didn’t know each other. He knows me, and I know him. He won’t leave me this time.
But I can’t.
I’m a coward.
Or maybe I’m brave?
I don’t know.
But I’m not brave enough to leave him, and I’m too cowardly to join him.
Instead, I’m frozen in lust, watching him stroke his cock slowly. My mouth waters at the sight of a vein, running down his generous length. His clenched fist moves slowly up, stopping at the head of his cock and twisting before moving back down to the base.
Water from the showerhead descends down his face, past his eyes, causing them to close. When he opens them, he catches sight of my fingers, which have dipped past the slickness of my slit and into my aching pussy. I finger myself, pumping two digits into my wetness and using the palm of my hand to ease my throbbing clit.
His eyes connect with mine, and when he speaks, it come
s out as a growl. “Come for me, Lucy. Come with me.”
My body succumbs to his demand immediately, submitting to the pleasure, submitting to him. Not even a second after, he joins me, and my eyes can barely stay open through the pleasure, but I force them open, refusing to miss the sight of him coming for me. Coming with me.
When we’re done, panting and just barely satiated, our hands are still pressed against one another, separated by the glass door. It’s clear and thin, but it might as well be The Great Wall.
I’m swimming on the roof when I realize that Xavier’s not with me. I glance around, a frown tugging on my lips when I don’t see him anywhere, and exit the pool. Water drips down my bikini clad body, but I wipe myself off with a plush towel.
After Caroline got shot and we decided on keeping me on lockdown at the penthouse again, Asher had the roof converted into a pool deck. Instead of railings or a waist-high wall to prevent me from falling off the edge of the tower, he had bulletproof glass installed all around the edges of the roof. It’s clear, fifteen feet high, and can withstand repeated fire from any sniper’s rifle.
The whole set up was installed at an impossible speed, and it was all done for me.
By Asher.
Who likes me.
Who came in front of me.
Who came with me.
Who I’m so confused about.
Who I realize is right in front of me.
“Where’s Xavier?” I ask, breaking the silence between us.
It’s been a week since I watched Asher come. Since I came with him. And I’ve been doing a great job of avoiding him. Whenever he’s home, I lock myself in the theater room and fall asleep on one of the comfy seats. I don’t even return to the bedroom until after he’s left for work the next morning.
“I sent him home for the day.”
I eye him warily. If he sent Xavier home for the day, it means he’s planning on guarding me himself until the night shift comes. Or maybe even past then.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says.
“I have.”
