Firestorm - Ellie Masters Page 0,53
between us as he drives through the dark streets and makes a stop at a small gas station. We both head in. Me to buy a toothbrush and other sundry goods. Him to purchase the condoms we plan on using tonight.
We’re back on the road, silence descending between us. Unlike the comfortable quiet we shared in the diner, this one fills with anticipation for what’s to come.
Vineyards are all around us, marching off in ordered roads. He pulls off the main road and down a tree-lined drive, where the branches arc up and over us, forming a living tunnel. It’s beyond gorgeous. The long drive takes us to a stone manor, wrapped all around by a massive covered porch. That’s all I see before he drags me inside.
I’m not sure which one of us starts what happens next, but there’s a brief moment of eye contact. A nod from me, then we stagger down a hall like a bunch of drunk and horny teenagers, careening off the walls as we head to his room.
My back bumps against the wall as his hands find their way beneath my shirt. He grips the edge and pulls it over my head where he releases it. My shirt falls to the floor as we trip over the long rug running down the hall. I laugh. He joins me. Then our bodies collide once again with grabbing hands and desperate lips.
He slams me against the wall and I tug at his shirt while he kisses me senseless. We’re a frenzied mess, divesting each other of the clothing which keeps us apart.
We greedily remove the barriers keeping us from feeling the heat surging between us. There’s a brief moment when he hops on one foot, trying to get his jeans off over his shoe. He finally stops and braces an arm against the wall to bend down and free first one shoe and then the other. Then he kicks off his jeans.
The entire time I feast my hungry gaze on the ripped expanse of his shoulders, his back, and the well-defined six pack he’s sporting. One article of clothing separates us and I reach for the waistband of his briefs.
“Uh-uh.” He points to my pants. “You’re falling behind.”
I bite my lower lip as he prowls toward me and flicks free the button of my pants. I’m panting, breathless, and Asher stares at me with heat simmering in his eyes. “Last chance. The guest room is right there.” He gestures somewhere back the way we came.
“I don’t want the guest room.”
He smiles in victory then goes to his knees before me. Slowly, inexorably, he tugs my pants over the flare of my hips, around the globes of my ass, and draws it down the length of my legs. I step out of each leg as his face is eye-level with the apex of my thighs. My girly bits tingle in anticipation.
“God, you smell fucking phenomenal.” He buries his nose between my legs and breathes me in.
It’s a little uncomfortable. I don’t know what to do with my hands or where I should look, but when he pulls aside the fabric of my panties and licks right there, I no longer care. I rise on my toes and dig my fingers into his hair.
He laughs at my reaction and teases me with the sweet torture of his tongue. Then he draws down my panties, baring me to him. He knocks gently at my knees, encouraging my legs to part to give him unrestricted access.
I’m wet and ready. He slides his finger inside of me and my breath hitches. When he sucks on my clit, gently biting down, my hips buck as I beg for more.
15
Asher
Sensory fucking overload.
I found heaven and I’m in no hurry to leave.
Evelyn is a fucking minx, responsive to my touch like no one ever before. Bare to me, her pussy begs for attention and I intend giving her exactly that. My dick hardens and aches, but I’m not ready to slip inside her.
Not yet.
But soon.
My fingers flutter over her folds, discovering her secrets. I pay attention to her breaths, those low, sultry moans spilling from her lips, and how she yanks on my hair. God, it’s fucking sexy as hell with her fingers digging into my scalp. I could make her come with a well-placed flick of my tongue, but where’s the fun in that?
With deliberate intent, I slip my fingers inside her pussy, barely entering as I use the pad of my thumb