Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
29
Charlotte
I sink back against the pile of pillows as Asher steps into the next room to make his call. My heart rate slowly begins to settle, though it still pounds out a relentless rhythm in my chest. The faint hum of his deep voice drifts through the cracked door, reassuring yet authoritative, reminding me just how capable and fiercely protective this man truly is.
A sigh escapes my lips as I pick up the leather-bound room service menu from the bedside table. Breakfast might offer the distraction I desperately need—something safe and mundane amid the chaos that keeps swirling around us.
My eyes scan down the page, hardly registering the words. Omelets, pancakes, fresh fruit. The items blur together as I realize I'm not even remotely hungry. Not for food, anyway. My body craves something more. Something entirely more dangerous, more satisfying, and distinctly Asher-shaped.
I set the menu aside just as Asher steps back into the room, and my breath catches. He's slipped into dark sweats and a simple black T-shirt that hugs his broad shoulders in ways that should be illegal. His hair is slightly tousled from our earlier kiss, his eyes carrying a hint of lingering intensity from the call. His presence alone makes my pulse quicken, heat blooming beneath my skin.
His gaze meets mine immediately, and a slow smile curves his lips, softening the harder lines of his face. "You find something good?"
I shrug lightly, returning his smile. "I got a little distracted."
He arches an eyebrow, closing the distance to the bed in two smooth strides. "Is that right?"
"Very distracted," I confess, my voice softening as he approaches. My pulse kicks into a higher gear, every nerve suddenly alive with anticipation. "You're entirely too distracting."
Asher chuckles lowly, the rich sound sending heat spiraling deep in my belly. "I'll take responsibility."
He climbs onto the bed, careful not to jostle my bruises, settling beside me, propped up on one elbow. The proximity ignites something electric between us, tension humming in the air. My breath catches again when his fingers gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch tender yet charged.
"You feeling okay?" he asks softly, his thumb stroking lightly along my cheekbone.
"Better," I whisper, turning my face slightly into his palm. "Especially now."
He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth. I instinctively turn toward him, chasing the heat of his lips. He pauses, his gaze searching mine for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, he dips his head again, this time claiming my mouth completely.
The kiss begins slow—warm and exploratory, his lips soft yet firm as they move against mine. But it quickly deepens, becoming something raw and utterly consuming. My fingers thread through his thick hair, pulling him even closer as he angles his head, deepening the contact.
I part my lips with a soft moan, and Asher immediately responds, his tongue sliding into my mouth, warm and demanding. Desire pools within me, burning away the exhaustion, chasing away the shadows left by Wade and all the darkness we’ve endured. All that matters now is him… his taste, his scent, the heat of his body pressed firmly against mine.
He shifts his weight carefully, still mindful of my bruises, hovering just slightly above me, a gentle hand sliding down to rest on my waist. His thumb strokes a slow, tantalizing circle just beneath the edge of my pajama top, setting every nerve ending alight.
I gasp against his mouth, arching into his touch, craving more. So much more. More of his strength, more of his tenderness, more of the thrilling sensation he awakens in me. Asher pulls back for a moment, his eyes dark and intent, his voice rough with need. "Charlotte, we don't have to—"
"I want to," I interrupt breathlessly, gripping the front of his shirt, tugging him back down to me. "I need you, Asher. I need this."
He groans softly, surrendering to the hunger between us. His lips find mine again with renewed passion, devouring every sound, every breath. His hand slips beneath the thin fabric of my top, exploring gently, fingertips tracing slow, scorching patterns across my bare skin. Each touch ignites sparks that ripple outward, leaving me trembling beneath him.
My own hands wander, sliding beneath his T-shirt, exploring the warm, solid planes of his chest. His heart pounds beneath my palm, matching the fierce rhythm of my own. I savor the way his muscles tense and shift under my touch, the soft hiss of breath he draws in as I drag my nails gently across his skin.
"Asher," I whisper, breaking the kiss to press my mouth against the rough stubble along his jawline. "I love you. More than I ever thought possible."
He exhales sharply, capturing my mouth again in another searing kiss, deep and hungry, his body pressed against mine in ways that make it clear he feels exactly the same. "Charlotte," he growls against my lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you so damn much."