He put me in an overstimulated state without even touching me.
I check my phone and find a text from him.
Asher: Five minutes.
No.
No, no.
This…this is too similar to Old Reina’s affair with Cloud003. All too similar.
Maybe Asher read the messages. Maybe he knows about the affair? Is this a punishment for that?
My phone vibrates again and I nearly drop it.
Asher: Four.
I throw the phone and bag on the chair and lift the hem of my T-shirt, yanking it off over my head. My jeans follow next, then my flats.
As I stand in the middle of my room in nothing by my bra and panties, my chest rises and falls with sharp breaths. My legs tremble so hard, I’m surprised my lungs don’t give up on me. My hair is still damp from the shower I took back at campus. The scent of my lilac shampoo becomes tenfold stronger until it’s the only thing I can smell.
My phone vibrates on the chair and I jerk before releasing a shaky breath.
Fuck.
This is worse than being in an adrenaline wave. It’s like constant stimulation with no way of release.
Asher: One.
Three minutes have passed already?
Cursing under my breath, I unhook my bra and slide my panties down my legs. A tremor possesses my fingers as my underwear joins my clothes on the floor.
I lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling, resisting the urge to pull the covers up and hide my nudity.
Yes, Asher has seen me naked before, but it’s the first time he’s ordered me ever so bluntly to get nude. And to my fucking dismay, arousal coats my thighs. He hasn’t even put his hands on me yet, but I haven’t ever felt as turned on as I do right now.
I rub my thighs together to alleviate the tension, but that only makes it worse, more aching, more unreachable.
This is pure torture.
And only Asher can end it.
The click of the door is deafening in the silence of the room. I refrain from sighing in relief.
But that’s wrong. I shouldn’t be relieved when I have no idea what he plans to do with me.
After all, this is Asher. Being unpredictable is his modus operandi.
His steps are quiet, but I can almost imagine him stalking in my direction. I don’t dare look up or change position. For some reason, I sense that I have to remain this way.
It feels like forever before he finally comes into view.
My lips part.
He’s fully naked, too. His sculpted abs are taut and begging for my fingers to run over them, touch them, hug them –and eventually lick them. The V lines create a masculine view down his hips, but not more than what it leads to.
His dick is so thick and long and hard—so hard it’s throbbing. God, how did he fit that thing in me?
It takes me a few seconds to focus back on his face. What I find there causes a shudder to crawl between my ribs and settle in my heart.
There’s something unintelligible in his gaze, a madness, an unknown.
He reaches out his index finger and flicks it over my nipple. It thickens into a painful tip. His touch is nonchalant, but it creates a war zone in my starving body.
My poor, sensitive body.
A tingle of pleasure dances down my stomach, clenching for more.
“What did I say?” His tone is calm, too calm—too good to be true.
“W-what?” I’m too distracted by his finger to concentrate on words.
“I told you to lie on your stomach, prom queen.”
He did.
Oh, God. He did.
Why the hell did I lie on my back instead? At the time, it felt like a normal thing to do, almost as if he told me to.
I move to comply. There’s this urge to fix my mistake; no idea why I have it, I just…do.
Asher wraps a hand around my throat, stopping me in my tracks. The tsking sound he makes wraps a different type of noose around me.
“You’ve screwed up twice today, prom queen. I’ll have to remind you how it goes between us.”
His hold on my throat tightens, and I grab his hand with both of mine. My air is about to be cut off and I claw at him to let me go.
God, I enjoy this dynamic between us a bit too much.
“Drop your hands or I’ll tie them.”
He…can’t possibly mean that, right?
When I don’t comply, he releases my throat. I gasp for air as he reaches down to the heap of my clothes. I barely have time to focus as