Chapter 117

MADDISON

The weight of the day crashes over me, pulling me off course as we step into the elevator leading to Asher’s apartment. I find myself pushing him against the wall before the doors even have a chance to close, pressing my body against his. I’m not sure where this sudden surge of confidence is coming from, but I find myself kissing him with a fervor I didn’t know I possessed.

I need him, need everything he can give me. Yet, there’s a part of me that craves something darker, something I’m not sure he can provide. But for now, any physical contact will do.

He flips the script, pushing me back against the elevator wall and returning my kisses with equal intensity. His tongue dances with mine in a messy, wet kiss that’s unlike anything I’ve experienced before.

But he seems to enjoy it—no, adore it, if I’m being honest. So we continue, trading kisses as the elevator dings at each passing floor.

By the time the doors slide open, he’s lifted me up, my legs wrapped around his waist. His grip is firm, a silent promise that sends a thrill through me.

He carries us toward his apartment, his lips never leaving mine. It’s as if he knows the layout of the hallway by heart.

And then, we’re inside. He stumbles through the door, a laugh barely suppressed as it slams shut behind us.

And then we’re moving again. He carries me into the kitchen—of all places—and sets me down on the counter.

When he pulls back, I swear, I’ve never seen a man look at a woman with such hunger. His eyes have darkened, heavy with desire.

His teeth are biting into his lower lip as he takes a step back, drinking me in. It does wonders for my self-esteem.

And then he’s on me again, tugging at my clothes, tearing at my top. My shorts are flung somewhere behind him, and he’s too impatient to slide my panties down.

The fabric rips with a satisfying sound, followed by the sound of his zipper. I’m beyond excited, practically giddy, and I can’t keep the words from tumbling out of my mouth.

“Please, Asher,” I beg. “God, please.”

What am I begging for? Well, sex for starters. And anything that follows would be the main course.

The dessert would be the ecstasy that only he can give me. And let me tell you, he does not disappoint.

He thrusts deep inside me, positioning himself as far as my body will allow. Then he pulls me into his arms again, my legs wrapping around his waist, helping him keep me exactly where I want to be.

He carries us over to the windows, pressing my back against the glass. I’ll admit, it’s a strange move and a bit unsettling.

I hope no one can see my half-naked form against the window. But then he starts to thrust, and all my thoughts scatter.

“Lights to blue,” he commands, catching me off guard. “Lights down low,” he adds.

He doesn’t miss a beat, continuing to fuck me against the window as the apartment is bathed in a soft blue light.

I don’t know why, but the change in atmosphere makes everything more intense. The sound of my own heartbeat fills my ears as I grind down on him, matching his rhythm.

Sweat slicks my back against the window, aiding my movements. Before I know it, an orgasm I hadn’t anticipated rolls through me like a tidal wave.

I’m soaked, and I can feel it coating Asher. For a moment, everything slows down.

Our eyes meet, and I feel a flush of embarrassment. I’m literally dripping, and it’s audible.

I wonder if it’ll disgust him, if he’ll stop and pull away. If he’ll drop me to the floor and rush off to shower.

But to my surprise, he just smirks and continues. He sets his own pace until he, too, releases inside me.

The room falls silent after that. He holds me still, but I can tell he’s growing tired.

I tighten my grip around his waist, but I start to slip. He notices and moves away from the window, carrying me to his bedroom and then into the bathroom.

He sets me down on legs that feel like jelly, and I stand there, dazed, while he turns on the shower. The sound of running water is the only thing breaking the silence as my heart rate finally starts to slow.

“Wow, that was… Jesus, I’ve never experienced such intense pleasure before. I’ve never climaxed like that…”

“Come,” Asher instructs, pulling me into the shower with him, where he takes care of me in the most intimate way.

He lathers my entire body, paying special attention to my most sensitive areas, all while peppering me with soft kisses. I feel cherished, adored, and overwhelmingly loved.

He’s looking after me, and that’s all I could ever ask for. Then he hands me the washcloth and the soap.

For a moment, I just stand there, staring at what he’s offering, not quite understanding. Why is he giving me the cloth?

What does he expect from me? My mind starts to race, and the uncertainty frightens me, but then he shows me what he wants by pouring the soap onto the cloth and guiding my hand to cleanse his body.

Of course, how could I have been so dense? He simply wants me to return the favor—to wash him as he washed me.

So that’s exactly what I do, cleaning him from head to toe—saving his manhood for last because, honestly, the idea intimidates me.

Don’t misunderstand; I’ve touched plenty of cocks in my time. But never one belonging to a man I have such deep feelings for.

The task seems daunting, but in reality, it’s over quickly, and nothing unexpected happens. I just clean him as he wanted, and then we’re both stepping out of the shower, wrapping ourselves in towels to dry off.

“You okay?” Asher checks in with me.

“Mm-hmm,” I hum in response.

“Let’s get to bed,” he suggests, leading me to his bedroom, where he hands me a nightdress.

After drying off, I slip it on and climb into his bed, which he joins shortly after. We lie side by side in silence, not touching.

My nerves are on edge due to the unfamiliarity.

“Wanna watch a movie?” he finally breaks the silence.

“Sure,” I agree. Although I’m tired, and I know I’ll probably fall asleep soon.