were behind me hand their invitations to him.
I drink her in. The vision of her gorgeous lithe body encased in all that black silk will be one that stays in my brain until my dying day.
“You’re breathtaking,” I tell her in earnest.
“Why are you here?” she questions, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. There is no hostility in her voice, just a wobble in her tone that shows her nerves. Whether that's because of me or the show itself remains to be seen.
I grab her hand and pull her over to the first door we reach and yank it open, finding a cleaning supply closet. Pulling her inside, I shut the door behind us, enclosing us in the darkness. There is next to no space in here, leaving our bodies pushed tight against each other.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
“I’m finding a quiet place to tell my wife that I love her. That I’m in love with her, and that I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I fucked up, and I’ll fuck up again. I’m a man, it's what we do, but I promise I won't ever lie to you or make you feel less than you are. I walked out on the biggest deal of my life tonight when it became blindingly clear that the only contract I care about is the one tying me to you. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. I’d give up everything for a second chance, but don’t ask me to give up on us. Say you’ll be mine, Skittle,” I demand.
I hear her sob before her tear-filled voice echoes in the quiet room.
“I’m already yours. I’ve always been yours,” she chokes out.
I don't wait for anything else. I cup her face with my hands, feeling for her lips with my thumb before sliding my mouth over hers, claiming her once more.
I can’t do soft and sweet. My need for her and the relief of finally feeling her in my arms again outweighs everything else. Our kiss burns hot and heavy like they always do, our passion for each other as combustible as always, igniting a need in me so strong I have to lock my knees to prevent them from buckling.
“I need to be inside you, Skittle,” I groan, sliding the smooth material up over her hips before yanking her up into my arms.
“Oh god, Asher, people will be looking for me,” she protests, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, she starts grinding her slick heat against my rock-hard cock.
I pull my lip from hers when I realize my hands are on bare skin. “Are you wearing underwear?”
She laughs but groans as the motion pushes her harder against my dick. “In this dress, it wasn’t an option. I thought that might have been your intention all along,” she admits with a pant.
I use the wall to support her one-handed as I fumble with the other to free myself from the confines of my pants. “It wasn’t, but I’m sure fucking glad for it now,” I groan as I use the tip of my cock to locate her entrance before slamming my full length inside her.
She muffles her screams by burying her head in the crook of my neck, but I couldn't care less if the whole studio hears us. I’m finally home where I belong, inside the woman I love.
Thirty-Five
Linda
I flush every time someone makes eye contact with me, convinced they know what we were just doing in the janitor’s closet. Thankfully, I had enough awareness about me after my mind-blowing orgasm to convince Asher to let me finish him off with my mouth because the tiny hanky I had used to clean up with would have been woefully inadequate.
And, let's be honest, there are no secrets when wearing a silk dress and no underwear. He might have loved the idea of me walking around with his essence on the inside of my thighs, but me, not so much.
“Stop fidgeting. You look stunning. Every guy in here wishes he was me,” Asher whispers into my hair, giving the hand he’s holding a reassuring squeeze.
“Well, yeah, because they think I’ll put out in the closet,” I grumble, making him laugh.
“They can think what they want, but I’m the only lucky fuck that gets to slide inside your hot little pussy.”
“Asher!” I scold with a gasp, scanning the room to make sure nobody is listening.
He turns a little to look down at me, his free