Mind Games

Home > Other > Mind Games > Page 13
Mind Games Page 13

by T. K. Leigh


  Playfully waggling my brows, I pull back, climbing off him in measured movements. My eyes locked on his, I slip my fingers into the waistband of my yoga pants, teasing him by exposing a flash of skin on my hip before retreating, dancing around him once more. When he groans, I inwardly smile. I’ve been with my fair share of men over the past several years. Not one of them had ever been so unabashedly shameless in his need for me. So many men, at least in New York, have a “take it or leave it” attitude, thinking if it doesn’t work out, there’s always someone else who’d give them a piece of ass. But Asher has no qualms about showing me just how much he needs me.

  Moving in front of him, I turn around, facing away. I pause for a beat, drawing in a breath. Once I do this, there’s no going back. Then again, there was no going back the second we kissed. We both knew what we were getting into, yet did it anyway.

  Hooking my fingers into my waistband, I slowly slide my pants down my legs, praying those years of ballet classes will pay off and keep me upright. I lean over, my legs remaining straight as I tease Asher, my ass dangling in front of him like a delicious treat.

  A hiss echoes in the room. “You’re killing me, Izzy,” he growls in a strained voice. The unquenchable thirst in his voice nearly pushes me over the edge. I don’t want to rush this. Don’t want this to end.

  Straightening, I step out of my yoga pants, sauntering back up to him, clad only in my tank top and panties. When I draw near this time, he cups my ass, tugging me toward him.

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” I curve into him, my lips hovering over his. “Didn’t I already have to warn you once about touching?”

  “I’ve never been one to listen to directions. You should know that about me.”

  “I do. But you were the one who asked me to strip.”

  “I changed my mind.” He brings a hand to the back of my neck, his hold firm, unwavering, demanding. “If I don’t have you right now, I’ll lose my fucking head.” He crushes his mouth against mine, his kiss stealing my breath with its ferocity. He thrusts his tongue past my lips, his loss of all control like the most addictive drug. Growing dizzy from the kiss, I manage to push away, panting.

  “I can’t deprive you of your fantasy.”

  “Don’t you realize? You are my fantasy.” This time when he kisses me, it’s not as frenzied, but still brimming with want. Maybe more so. It’s slower. Heavier. Sharper.

  His hands go beneath my tank, skimming against my abdomen, deliberately making their way up to my chest. When he cups my breasts, I succumb to his touch, needing more. The tips of his fingers skim against my nipples, which harden instantly, eliciting a moan.

  “Take off your top,” Asher murmurs against my lips before burying his head in the crook of my neck, licking and sucking before pulling back.

  Unable to deny him anything, I grab the hem of my shirt, yanking it over my head in one quick move, tossing it onto the floor.

  He takes a minute to look at me. But unlike every other guy I’ve been with in the past, he doesn’t stare at my chest. Instead, his eyes stay on mine. A finger traces the curve of my face before he threads his fingers through my hair, drawing my lips back to his.

  “You are so fucking beautiful, Isabella.” He eliminates the last breath between our mouths, but I retreat.

  “I don’t want to give it all up so soon. Not when you were hoping to get the most out of this seduction.”

  “Trust me. I have.”

  “How? I only danced for half a song.”

  He clutches my cheeks with both hands. “You seduced me the first time I saw you. Maybe not physically, but in here.” He releases me, tapping the side of his head. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he brings that same hand to his heart. “And here. The more time I spent with you, the more I got to know you, the more you seduced my soul.” He grips my nape, pulling me back toward him. “Every fiber of my being.”

  His words are so choked with emotion, my brain refuses to fire. What can I say to that? A voice inside tells me he doesn’t mean it, that this is just part of his seduction. After all, he is a writer. A musician. A poet. These words are second nature for him, as easy and natural as jotting down his grocery list. But I can’t ignore the truth in his eyes. It’s vibrant. Real. Spellbinding. Even the most practiced of actors couldn’t fake that.

  “So, to address your concerns, you needn’t feel like you’re short-changing me.” He nibbles on my lower lip. A moan rattles from my throat at the perfect contact. “I’ve been able to enjoy a decade worth of your dance of seduction. Now I can finally join you. Let me join you.”

  I slam my lips to his, pressing my body as far into his as possible, needing to feel every strained muscle, every hard surface, every drum of his heart that only beats for me.

  He runs his hands along the lines of my stomach, brushing the swell of my breasts before retreating once more. I don’t want him to retreat. Only want him to push forward. Grabbing his hands, I press them against my chest, throwing my head back when he rolls my nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

  He breaks away, leaving a trail of desperate kisses along my jawline, his scruff rough but achingly pleasurable as it scrapes against my skin. Cupping my breasts tighter, he lowers his mouth. I curve back as best I can in our awkward position, my breathing increasing at the promise of feeling his lips on me.

  Suddenly, I’m lifted, and I fling my eyes open. “Hold on,” he rasps.

  I do as he commands, tightening my grip around his neck as he transitions me into a cradle carry. Shoving his phone into his pocket, he walks with purposeful strides out of the studio, practically running up the stairs and into my bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. I want to ask why he didn’t take me back to his room, but before I have a chance to worry about that, he places me onto the mattress, slithering up my frame.

  A whimper falls from my throat when his tongue traces delicate circles around my belly button. The touch is light, but hits me so deep, the way he worships me pushing my body higher and higher.

  “Please, Asher,” I beg, gripping the sheets as I writhe below him.

  He cranes his head up, a salacious smirk forming on his lips. “Something I can help you with?”

  Chest heaving, I clutch his face in my hands, tugging him toward me. “If I don’t feel you in the next two seconds, I’m going to get myself off. And I’d much rather you do that.”

  “Now that sounds fucking hot.” He seals his mouth over mine, his tongue sweeping against mine as he caresses the contours of my frame, inching farther south. When a finger swipes under the material of my panties, I circle my legs around his waist, pulsing, needing, wanting.

  “Please.” My word comes out a desperate plea, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as his hand grows closer and closer to my center.

  Breaking our kiss, he hooks his fingers into the band of my panties. Pausing, his eyes lock with mine, giving me one last chance to back out. When I nod, he crushes his lips to mine, his kiss too short for my liking. Then again, I get the feeling his kisses will always seem too short. The way they seem to devour my soul has increased my appetite for him to a nearly incomprehensible level. I can take and take and take, yet fear I’ll always need more of him.

  His motions are slow as he lowers my panties down my legs, his eyes not breaking from mine, as if waiting for me to change course. But I can’t. Tonight was the perfect storm. The canceled flight. The invitation to stay here. The blackout. All the pieces snapped into place for this to happen. There’s no reason to deprive ourselves of this.

  After tossing my panties onto the floor, he runs a hand up my leg, his tongue following. I throw my head back, the ecstasy from his soft touch more than I can handle. With every inch, my core tightens in promise of what’s to come. When a finger ghosts against my center, I moan, my pulse skyrocketing.

  “God, you’re so wet.”

  “Because you’re driving me crazy. I told you I needed to get off.”

  “Well then,” he begins coyly.
“Allow me the…pleasure.” He waggles his brows, then brings his mouth to me, his tongue lapping up my juices.

  I melt into the mattress, all the tension rolling off my body at how expertly he tastes me, then inserts a finger, stretching and exploring. “I believe the pleasure is all mine,” I murmur as if having an out-of-body experience.

  “Oh no, baby. This is all mine.”

  “Yours…” I run my hand through his locks as he inserts another finger, pushing me higher and higher, my body flooding with warmth in places I didn’t even think existed. I’ve never felt so full. So complete. So beautiful.

  “All mine,” he growls, picking up speed.

  It takes no time at all for me to succumb to his ministrations, the combination of his erotic touch and the amount of time since I’ve been with a man sending me over the edge. Lights flash before my eyes, despite the darkness shrouding the room, my body convulsing as one of the most intense orgasms I’ve experienced rolls through me. But that doesn’t make Asher stop. He keeps licking, tasting, devouring, wanting every last drop, every last shake, every last tremor until I have nothing left to give, my cries echoing into the Las Vegas night through the open window in my bedroom.

  Sated, I flutter my eyes open, meeting Asher’s lazy smile that’s coated in my desire. “I hope that was as enjoyable for you as it was for me.”

  Cheeks clutched in my hands, I drag him toward me, kissing him fully, tasting me and him in one incredibly erotic combination. “I need you inside me,” I murmur, nibbling on his lower lip.

  “And I need to be inside you.” His expression falls. “But I don’t have any condoms. I wasn’t exactly planning on this happening, so I—”

  “It’s okay. I’m on the pill. I trust you.”

  Asher was never the type to sleep around. Granted, it’s been years since we’ve seen each other. In some respects, he’s not the same Asher. I don’t think he’s changed that much.

  “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like you have to if you’re not comfortable without protection.”

  I flip him onto his back in one swift move. His eyes flame before darkening. I sensually grind my hips against his, my hair falling around us.

  “I need you.” I reach down, palming the erection straining to be released. “And I can feel how much you need me. I want this, Asher. More than I’ve wanted anything I can remember in years.” I bring my lips to his, skimming them. “I want you.”

  He delicately pushes a curl out of my eyes. I expect him to treat me to a beautiful kiss. Instead, his gaze becomes clouded with lust as he grips my hair forcefully, passion surging through me. “And I want you.” He yanks my head to the side, his teeth clamping onto my neck. I release a noiseless gasp. I didn’t think this kind of pleasure was possible. “So fucking much.”

  “Then have me.”

  With a growl, he flips me onto my back, climbing off me to undress. A sliver of moonlight illuminates him as he shrugs his shirt off his shoulders, revealing even more ink on his back. He’s not fully covered, but the few tattoos that spread from his shoulder blades onto his arms are tasteful. They’re the perfect accent to his broad shoulders, not obscuring his sculpted pecs or defined abs.

  His eyes remain steady on mine as he unbuttons his shorts and pushes them down his legs, his arousal springing free. It takes every ounce of resolve I possess not to compare Jessie to Asher. One thing is certain. There is one area where Jessie will never be able to outshine his brother. While Jessie was pretty well-endowed, and the inexperienced girl I was when we first had sex thought he used it quite well, it’s no match for Asher.

  He crawls onto the bed, slithering up my body. When he settles between my thighs, I enclose my legs around his waist, the feel of flesh against flesh causing my stomach to clench in anticipation.

  Pulling back, he lifts his erection to me, spreading my wetness around. Neither one of us looks away as he pushes into me, inch by incredible inch, stretching and filling before retreating, then sliding back in again. He continues acclimating my body to his, every motion deliberately sensual, giving me a taste of how amazing it could be before pulling back.

  I dig my hands into his scalp, tugging him against me, chest to chest, heart to heart. I cover his mouth with mine, tightening my hold around his waist, matching his rhythm. He moans, the vibration in his chest hitting the deepest parts of my soul.

  I rake my nails up his back and he tears his lips from mine, arching into the contact, his chest heaving, sweat forming on his brow. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.”

  I crane toward him, taking his earlobe between my teeth. “That’s the point.”

  With a groan, he increases his sensual rhythm, each thrust deeper and more fulfilling. I fall back onto the mattress as his lips kiss every part of me he can get to. My mouth. My neck. My chest. His frenzied hands explore every inch of my body, squeezing and bruising. When his finger rubs against my clit, I moan, my breathing growing ragged.

  “I want you to come again.”

  I’m about to tell him I don’t think I can, that it’s never happened, when that familiar tingling sensation bubbles deep inside, becoming brighter and stronger until I scream out, waves of mind-erasing pleasure washing over me.

  An animalistic growl rips from Asher’s lungs, the sensual, seductive lover turning into a man obsessed, desperate, hungry. He brings my legs onto his shoulders, increasing his rhythm to an almost punishing level as he drives into me, harder, deeper, faster, eyes dark, frantic, pained.

  He stills, emitting a strangled cry as his warmth spreads through me, his motions jerky. Tremors overtake him and he releases his hold on my legs, allowing them to fall to the mattress before he covers my body with his. Our labored breathing fills the room, stark against the silence, which is even more pronounced due to the lack of power.

  “Damn,” he breathes, nuzzling my chest. “I knew sex with you would be good. I just never could have imagined it would be so…electric.”

  I smirk. “You imagined?”

  He lifts his eyes to mine, a salacious grin crossing his mouth. “You better believe it. Let’s just say, for quite a few years, you were the leading lady of my spank bank.”

  With a laugh, I push him off me. “Gross.” I attempt to scoot away, but he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me back into him, thwarting my lackluster escape plan. When he brushes my hair over my shoulder and peppers soft kisses along my shoulder blades, I can’t help but melt into him.

  “You can’t tell me you’ve never thought of someone else when you touched yourself.”

  “Maybe,” I muse.

  He nuzzles his nose into my neck. “And who would that lucky bastard be?”

  I shift my position, turning to face him. “What would you say if I told you I’ve thought of you?”

  Impassioned, he covers my mouth with his, his kiss brief but still full. “I’d say that’s one of the hottest things I’ve heard in a long time.” He grabs my knee, hooking my leg over his waist, thrusting to demonstrate his reawakening arousal. “And when was this?”

  Leaning toward him, I scrape my teeth along his pec. “This morning.” My answer comes out breathy. “I get really horny first thing in the morning.”

  He groans, smashing my body against his, his arms enveloping me. “You’re going to be my undoing. Do you know that?”

  “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The soft tickle of chest hair against my back stirs me from a restful sleep. One of the most restful nights I’ve had in a while. I exhale a contented sigh, not wanting to open my eyes, able to sense the sun is already bathing the room in light. I don’t want it to be day. Not yet. Not when that means I’ll have to come to terms with what Asher and I did last night.

  He tightens his arm around my waist, pulling me into his body, a raspy moan reverberating through his chest. “Mmm.” He subtly thrusts against me, jumpstarting my libido, as if she needs any help. Just being near this man skyrockets my sex drive
. “I can get used to waking up like this.”

  “What? With some naked chick in your bed?”

  “Not just any naked chick.” His hand travels along my stomach, making the laborious journey south. I adjust my legs, parting them, an unspoken invitation to continue his exploration of my body. “Only you. I can get used to waking up next to you.”

  When he toys with my folds, I succumb to his touch, ignoring the voice of reason telling me to put a stop to this, to find out what time it is, if the power’s come back on. By the whirring fan kicking on from the central air and heating system, I surmise it is. I don’t want to do anything to interrupt this moment.

  “I can get used to this, too,” I whimper as he inserts a finger, then another, massaging me in the most delicious of ways.

  He pulses against me, and I part my thighs even more, allowing him better access. “Prop your leg up with your foot,” he orders. “With your knee bent.”

  I do as he asks, which spreads my legs wider. He grips the underside of my thigh, pulling it to the other side of his body, leaving me sprawled out and at the mercy of his fingers.

  “God, Izzy…” He scrapes his teeth along my neck, the pleasurable pain almost more than I can bear. “I need you one more time.”

  I moan, lost in the sensation, unable to form a single coherent thought.

  “Do you want me?” He pushes his finger deeper, tantalizing and teasing. I couldn’t tell him no if I wanted to, my mind devoid of reason.

  “Y-yes.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” He withdraws his fingers, the lack of his touch causing an unwelcome chill to wash over me. But before I can beg for more, his length thrusts against me from behind, sliding into me.

  We exhale simultaneously and he pauses, filling me before retreating, continuing his same sensual motion. Over. And over. And over. My jaw falls slack, a noiseless whimper escaping at the utter bliss invading me. Last night was incredible. I’d never been with any man as selfless and passionate as Asher. But this position, lying on my side with my back to his front, my leg propped up, he’s able to hit parts of me no other man ever has.

 

‹ Prev