Asher lustfully licks at my skin. When he quickens his pace just a fraction, I suck in a breath of air. “Shit.” “You’ll come again.” “Always giving orders,” I murmur, all my focus on the spot where we become one. “It wasn’t an order, Millie, just pointing out the obvious.” He buries his face in my neck and pinches my nipple, his thrusts uncompromising. I release something between a gasp and a groan. God, the strength of him holding me, it is just as powerful as his Thrusts. I loosen my hold on his wrist and splay my hand on top of his, silently telling him I want more pressure. “I’ll bruise you,” he whispers. “I want you to,” I whisper back, turning my head and pressing my forehead against his hot throat. “Why?” “I want everything from you, Asher, everything and more. I want you to leave a mark on me.” It is nothing more than a breathy statement that has a double meaning as I realize I am seconds away from another orgasm. “Open your mouth,” he orders, moving his head bac
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