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His home was decidedly empty of anything personal, no photos or family mementos, just clean modern art and dark furniture. I trailed over to the hallway, walking slowly past each closed door and wondering what they might hold, before I came to the end of the hall and his office. The door sat ajar, but no light spilled out. He’d told me it was always locked when he wasn’t in there, meaning I was to stay out, but if it was wide open, was I welcome?

Something pulled me into his office. Maybe it was the insatiable need that pulsed between us when we were near each other. I pushed the door open and took a few quiet steps in. Without seeing him, I padded across the darkened interior of his office, moonlight casting long shadows across the polished wood as I found myself passing the tall bookshelves, intent on the window. I stopped, admiring the way the silver light painted the water and the enormous weeping willow. I took another slow bite of my yogurt. Feeling the cool cream slide down my throat, I tipped my head to one side, the strap of the nightie falling off my shoulder as the fabric kissed my breast and hardened my nipples in the cool air.
 

“You don’t know what you do to me standing there in the moonlight.” I jumped when his heavy baritone landed on my ears. I spun and dropped the spoon in my hands, listening to it clatter to the floor and shatter the silence.
 

I swallowed, my thoughts racing as I worried I might be in trouble, or worse, had interrupted him. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in here.”
 

“If you didn’t think I was in here, why would you come in?” His voice hardened and caused my heart to falter.
 

“Well, who sits in the dark all by themselves?” I spat without thinking. Dammit. I was in trouble now. I waited silently, every passing moment solidifying that fear. Judy was always the quietest before she raged. Like a calm before a storm, her eyes would glaze over and then she’d erupt. Did Asher have that in him? Had I read him all wrong? Every childhood fear I had came rushing back to me in a torrential wave.
 

Suddenly a soft snicker hit my ears, and before I knew it Asher was standing toe-to-toe with me, his thumb and finger placed at my chin and turning my gaze away from him and back out to the willow.
 

“You’re so beautiful. I looked at you and I knew you were my everything. Make no mistake, Allie, what happened earlier
will
happen again.” One gentle fingertip trailed across the bow of my lips as my eyes focused on the dark night while his eyes focused on me. “But if I catch you in here again when you shouldn’t be, which, to be clear, is anytime you are without me,” his fingers caught my chin and pulled my gaze back to his with even determination, “I will put you over my knee.” His eyes burned with something I couldn’t place—frustration, attraction, thinly-masked control?

I licked my lips, my eyes trained on his because I couldn’t manage to tear them away, and I nodded once, then twice. “Yes, Asher,” I mumbled, dropping to my knees swiftly and swiping the spoon I’d dropped earlier. I stood again, chancing one last glance at the wild look of desire and confusion on his face, before I spun and retreated from the room.
 

“Allie?” he called just as I reached the door.
 

“Asher?” I paused, waiting for him, feeling the beat of our hearts thundering between us in every silent moment. Asher took four quick, deliberate steps, and the next thing I knew he was standing right in front of me, eyes burning with an intensity that was beyond frightening. His nostrils flared, and his breathing became irregular and intense. I became all too aware of my arousal. This man confounded me. I didn’t understand why my body craved him. It was all too consuming and so confusing.

“You look good enough to eat.” His words made my stomach swim, but his fingertips caressing the sensitive skin at the nape of my neck sent bolts of lightning scattering across my flesh. My body felt like it was on fire, burning up in the hottest inferno, being consumed in a blaze.
 

My heart raced as my knees shook and my thighs shifted. My fingers went to my lips without thought, tracing the soft flesh that his tongue and lips had tasted just hours earlier in my closet. I wanted his lips again. I wanted this man to kiss me with such fervor that I would forget my own name. But he didn’t kiss me. Instead he traced one finger along my lips like the soft caress of the wind, making me yearn so desperately for something that had been withheld from me.

“Succulent and sweet,” Asher whispered and placed a feather-light kiss at the base of my neck, his fingers moving the spaghetti strap of my nightie back into place. His slowly darting tongue licked just below my earlobe, and an intense burst of arousal flooded my panties. As if reading my thoughts, Asher moved his hands in poetic strokes down the sides of my body to the hem of the nightgown. He slowly lifted the satin, finding the edge of my panties. With a swift yet gentle tug, he pushed the fabric aside and slid his finger between the folds of my aching pussy. His thick fingers penetrated me while his thumb formed circular motions around my clit. I could feel the burning need building. I wanted to scream, I wanted to beg, I needed some form of release. The magnitude of the emotions coursing through my veins was beyond me, beyond Asher, far beyond my wildest dreams.

The whimpers from the back of my throat grew louder. “That’s it, baby, I want to hear you. I want you to tell me I own this pussy. If you want me to let you come, tell me,” Asher demanded while burying another finger in me. It felt so good, I felt so full. “Tell me, Allie, whose pussy is this? Tell me it’s mine.”
 

I felt helpless to his orders. I felt weak to his touch. My body was heating up, burning out of control.
 

“Tell me beautiful, who owns this pussy?” he demanded again. The need for relief became overpowering with every delicious word he uttered. He curled his fingers and the sensations doubled, before he added more pressure to my clit.
 

Then without warning his hand stilled.
 

“Please, Asher, please don’t stop.” My voice was breathless and needy.
 

Asher resumed circling my clit with his thumb and spoke. “Tell me, princess. Tell me who owns this pussy.”
 

I needed his hand to move. “You do,” I stammered, desperate for the release only he could provide.

“I what, Allie?” he demanded again.
 

“You...you own my pussy. It’s yours. You own it. Please, Asher. Please!” The next thing I knew, Asher was on his knees, moving my panties aside, and then suddenly I felt the rapid darts of his tongue lapping at my pussy in long, deft licks. My thighs shook as he worked my body, his hands clutching at my thighs, holding me in place and powerless. I clutched at the silky threads of his short hair as his fingers worked and slipped just at the edge of my entrance, flooding my pussy with wetness.

“You taste sweeter than I imagined,” he purred against my soaked lips, then one hand trailed up the curve of my waist, finding a palmful of my breast and kneading in warm, gentle strokes. His thumb found my erect nipple and he rubbed at it, like sandpaper against the sensitive bud. His teeth nipped at my clit, and his thumb and finger pinched quickly at my nipple, releasing a crash of sensation through my body. As if my skin was on fire, every nerve blazed as my toes curled and my thighs shook. My head grew hazy as my eyes fell closed, wild pants wracking my blissful form.

“Ahh, that’s, it beautiful girl.” Asher's sexy voice pulled me back from my own abyss. “Mmmm, I love the taste of your pretty cunt on my tongue.” His lips met mine, and his tongue plundered past my lips, forcing me to taste my own honeyed arousal. My eyes fell closed again, my hands curling around his neck, ready for more of his touch, his body, him.

He pulled away a moment later, a cocky grin pulling at one side of his mouth. “Naughty girl. You like the taste of your pussy on my lips, too.” One thumb traced the corner of my mouth sweetly, wiping at the wetness he’d left on my skin, before popping his thumb into his mouth and sucking off the glistening nectar. “So sweet.” He shook his head as if in awe of my taste. “Sweet dreams, beautiful Allie.” He winked before turning and sauntering straight out of the room.

My jaw dropped as he left me nearly shaking and deliriously happy in his office. Who was this man? What was he doing to me?

I licked the combined taste of us off my lips, relishing the flavor of our desire. Sweet dreams, indeed.

ten

Asher

I woke the next morning with a raging hard-on and a pressure behind my eyelids that wouldn’t go away. I knew what it was, and it wasn’t the wine or the lack of sleep. It was her. Tall, curvy, beautiful Allie. I jolted out of bed, pounding across the bedroom without a stitch of clothing on, and headed right for a cold shower.

How long would we have to keep up this ruse? How long until I could tell her I knew everything, every last shred of evidence she held so tightly close to her heart? She didn’t need to. I wouldn’t judge her. I wouldn't even pity her. I only wanted to take care of her. I wanted to heal her and show her what real love meant. Her hold over me astounded even myself.
 

I’d have to do better at maintaining my control. I knew instinctively I’d have to wait for the right time or I’d scare her off. The stubborn fire in her eyes told me she could withstand anything, had withstood horrifying things, but that also meant she didn’t put up with shit from anyone. She could run in an instant, but there was one thing I had over her, one thing I could give her in vast amounts for the rest of her life that no one had ever been able to offer her before—money. Would it be enough to make her stay? Could I convince her she needed me, and not just as the man who signed the checks?

I grunted in the shower, feeling more frustrated than ever as my mind spun with thoughts of her last night in that silky, short lingerie. Her hair falling over one shoulder, the curve of her thighs silhouetted in the moonlight as the satin caressed her bare legs, and that strap. That damn strap falling down her shoulder and kissing the full curve of her round breasts. I sighed and pushed my hand against the shower wall, taking my straining cock in my palm and giving it a few rough tugs. The pleasure was sweet, but brief. I closed my eyes, feeling the water rush down my heavy body, remembering the feel of her soft thighs beneath my fingers, the taste of her sex-soaked pussy on my tongue. I’d been dreaming of my head between her curvy thighs. Finally sinking my tongue into her hungry pussy had been my complete undoing. Listening to her moan and come in soft little cries had hot drops of pre-cum pulsing from the tip of my cock. Pleasing her left me drunk on her body, her scent,
her.
 

I imagined taking her in my own bed the first time, candles, music, a massage or a hot bath, I would do anything to relax her, show her she could trust me before undressing her, one layer of clothing at a time. I wanted to unwrap her like a package before nestling myself between her legs and pushing inside her. The promise of our bodies joining for the first time caused an orgasm to burn low in my balls as my breathing picked up and my fist pumped my length in a fierce rhythm. I would be her everything, I would show her I could be. I would make her need me, want me. I would satisfy her with so many orgasms with my fingers and my tongue and my hungry cock, she’d scream and cry and beg for more.
 

My muscles stiffened as my release tightened and clenched before exploding in a cascade of white-hot desire. Allie. I hated fucking calling her that name. My sweet girl undid me. She was more beautiful, smarter, more generous, and so much more composed than I ever could have imagined. She was everything I wanted. Exactly what I needed. And the very thing I was terrified of. She owned me. She just didn’t know it yet.
 

I’d asked Peggy to come back this morning and resume her normal duties around the house, and I wanted to get downstairs to welcome her back. I stepped into my walk-in closet and pulled a pair of worn jeans up my legs, adding a crisp white cotton shirt, then ran a hand through my hair as my thoughts returned again to last night.

Watching her creep into my office after dark, the light washing her angelic profile and caressing every curve and dip, she’d left me transfixed and rooted to my spot. I’d watched her eating that little cup of yogurt, thinking I was glad to see her eating something—her losing a pound of weight was out of the question—before her eyes glazed over and her head tipped to one side. The delicate satin strap of her nightgown had fallen down one creamy shoulder then, and my cock pounded with fierce abandon in my pants. I shifted, barely containing the groan on my lips, before I had to say something to alert her of my presence. Visions of tossing her on the top of the mahogany desk and grinding my mouth against her sweet pussy made me grit my teeth in physical restraint.
 

She was so damn lucky I’d found her when I did. If Clancy had gotten one chance, one day where she’d slipped out of my sight and gone home with another no-good fucker, her life would look totally different now. I padded down the stairs, shaking the
what if’s
and
could’ve beens
from my mind and rounded the corner into the kitchen for my morning apple and cup of coffee.
 

I nearly stumbled at the sight before me. Allie’s hair was piled in a loose bun on the top of her head, and she was wearing a simple tank top and leggings. She looked fucking amazing. The fabric hugged her curves in all the right places, I wanted to dig my hands into the soft flesh at her hips and bend her over the kitchen counter. I craved the feel of her skin under my palms. I wanted to snake my hands between her legs and make her wet and needy for me first thing in the morning just like she did me.
 

Allie turned then, her eyes narrowing for a moment before her gaze cast up and down my body, landing on the waistband of my jeans for a long minute, before her eyes made contact with my own. “Good morning, Asher.” She smiled sweetly as the blush crept up her face. Yet I recognized a flirty look in her gaze. A minxish look of coquettish desire. She’d caught my raging morning hard-on.