All The Truths - Rina Kent Page 0,78

touch and stroke, I fall deeper and harder for him.

In public, I’m his queen; in bed, I’m his most obedient slut, the one he pleasures every night and in the morning before we go to work.

His hand never leaves my throat as he rams into me. His arm crushes my breast, making my nipples throb with the need to be bitten, touched, and tortured by him.

Now, of all times, he slows his pace. He can’t just leave me hanging after all that build-up; I’m about to explode.

“Harder, you fucking asshole.”

He laughs, the sound harsh and dark. “That’s not how it works. Say the words.”

Usually, all I have to do is say ‘please’, but today, I’m aching for a strong release, so I say, “I’m yours, only yours, Ash.”

“Yes, you are,” he grunts as he thickens inside me until I can feel him stretch me all over again. He slides out almost entirely then slams back in again.

Once.

Twice.

The third time, my nails dig into his arm as my lips part in a wordless cry.

The release crashes into me as he captures my mouth in a ravenous kiss and pounds into me harder and faster. My pulse heightens and my whimpers are shaky with the strength of it.

I can’t breathe. No, I don’t want to breathe.

I want to take him in at his rawest form, all uncut and mine. My best friend, my husband, and my number one supporter.

His kiss turns breathless and out of control as his cum fills me. We both sigh into each other’s mouth at the same time, but we don’t stop kissing.

His hand strokes my throat as he opens my mouth and fucks my tongue with his. I don’t know how long we remain on the carpet as he kisses the ever-loving daylights out of me.

All I know is that I become too sleepy and exhausted; he always has that effect on me. Every time he thoroughly fucks me, I sleep like a baby afterward—that is if he doesn’t wake me up in the middle of the night for another round.

He slips out of me and I moan at the emptiness as his cum streaks between my thighs. I love this feeling a bit too much.

As always, Asher carries me in his arms toward our bedroom. I lean over and suck on the skin of his neck, kissing along it with everything I have.

“Careful there, prom queen—you’re asking for it again.” He smirks down at me.

I hit his chest. “Stop it.”

He has aged like a fine wine, still as attractive as sin, if not a bit more lethal. Now, women don’t leave him alone. I’m always tempted to shove the wedding ring in their faces.

I don’t need to, though. Asher has never looked at another woman. Hell, he barely has time to take care of work and meet up with his friends due to his fixation on me. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve found him watching me intently, as if he doesn’t believe we’re actually together.

Truth is, I watch him that way too when I know he’s not looking. We were always parallel lines, but even parallel lines can collide and become one. It’s even more powerful than two lines meeting at only one point.

He places me down and lies beside me. He pulls me on top of him so my breasts are glued to his chest, my legs between his and my face inches away from his.

Another position I love too much to admit.

We watch each other for a second, his hands running through my hair and mine stroking along his tattoo. The Arabic words are still there, and I’m glad he didn’t remove it. I like to see how far we’ve come.

Jason has admitted to helping Arianna back then, and he was also the one behind that shady Instagram account about Blackwood College. He had students DM him pictures and he posted them.

After that confrontation, he got a beating from Asher that nearly broke his football arm. When Alex found out about what happened, he wanted to throw Jason out of the country, but I begged him not to for Izzy’s sake. She showed me that video when she could’ve kept it a secret for life because she cared about Alex and me.

She offered to take Jason and go back to the south where her family would deal with him.

I could tell Asher wanted to do more than beat Jason up, but I made him stop. I had a few choice