Chapter 50

Asher

When I stumbled upon Cynthia passed out on a park bench, my first instinct had been panic. Was she hurt? What was wrong?

Yet her pulse beat strongly when I checked, and her breathing was deep and steady.

No, she wasn’t hurt. She was asleep.

Here, outside, in the open, where anyone could stumble upon her.

A possessive flare shot through me. She was too exposed here. Too trusting, too vulnerable. Others could see and take what wasn’t theirs.

Just as Joseph had done.

Approaching her, I touched her cheek with the intention of rousing her.

“Hey,” I said, gentle. “Cynthia.”

She hummed in her sleep, and leaned into the warmth of my hand.

How long had she been out here? Was she cold? Her skin did feel a bit chill.

How tired had she been to fall asleep here?

I didn’t know the answers to those questions, and that irritated me.

Cynthia was mine to protect, and I was doing a piss poor job of it.

Carefully, I plucked her from the park bench, scooping her up into my arms in a bridal carry. She curled into me, her fingers hooking around the neck of my shirt.

Then I carried her to her dorm, glaring wickedly at any who dared glance at us too long. No one deserved to gaze upon her peaceful, sleeping face, her brow relaxed. Her lips, parted.

The beauty of her, so relaxed in slumber, stirred the forbidden feelings buried deep in my chest.

I could gaze upon her but I couldn’t have her. I couldn’t love her like she wanted – like she deserved.

I’d do a hell of a better job than Joseph, but no. She deserved more than either of us.

In her room, I was startled by the sheer amount of flowers she kept. I tried my best to avoid toppling any vases, though after I saw Joseph’s name scrawled on one card, I might have kicked over a few on purpose.

When I reached her bed, I lowered her down. I attempted to right myself then, but her fingers that had been hooked at my collar, now clawed down the front of my shirt.

A shot of pleasure went through me, but I shook it off at once. Cynthia surely had not meant anything arousing in the action. The girl was asleep.

But my attempts to untangle her grip only made her more insistent. Soon, she was nearly entirely upright, grasping at me with all her limbs like an octopus. Her legs wrapped around my hips, and I had to fall onto the bed to keep from hurting her.

So as to not crush her, I rolled onto my back. She followed, now straddling on top of me.

“What are you – Ah.” My voice choked off as she began to roll her hips.

My treacherous dick immediately rose to attention. My every nerve itched to touch her, taste her, rip her clothes off and take her.

But the girl was asleep. She didn’t know what she was doing.

“Cynthia.”

“Asher,” she purred, very nearly my undoing.

What was she dreaming about?

Me? Us?

Fucking?

Dropping my head back onto the pillow, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to think of anything else to calm down. Baseball statistics. Cold showers. An ice pick into my eye.

Then she moaned, and all other thoughts shattered like glass.

I had to wake her up. Now.

Before either of us allowed something to happen that we would regret.

I gripped her shoulders, shaking her. “Cynthia, wake up.”

She whimpered a confused noise, though her hips kept moving.

“Cynthia,” I said, more insistent. “Wake up. Now.”

Her eyes popped open. She jumped away, fell off the bed into the comforter.

“A-Asher?”

Her face was flushed and lovely. Lingering desire hung in her eyes despite her embarrassment. Then she covered her face with her hands and a string of apologies started, with no end in sight.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t… Whatever I did, I’m so, so sorry. I never should have… Oh, God, how could I have…? I’m sorry!”

I realized quickly she wouldn’t forgive herself for this easily, so I let my blood cool as much as I could. She needed more from me than horniness now.

“It’s okay. You were just a little clingy. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“You mean… I didn’t…? Nothing happened?” As she lowered her hands, the hope in her eyes became clear.

I would rather eat lava than disappoint her. “Nothing happened,” I lied. I switched to a teasing tone, “Why? What did you think happened?”

“Nothing!” she said quickly. She hopped to her feet as I stood from the bed. “Of course, nothing.” She laughed, awkwardly. It was damn endearing.

My dick twitched again.

I needed to get away from her right now for my own sanity.

“We’ll talk later,” I said, heading for the door.

“Okay. Goodbye, Asher,” she said, but I was too far gone to turn back and reply.

If I looked at her again right now…

No.

I had to get back to my room.

By the time I had my door closed behind me, my blood was on fire, lust pumping through my veins.

In a moment, I was across the room. I dropped my pants and boxers, fell back onto my bed, and took myself in hand.

The relief of touch was instant. I only wished it was Cynthia’s hand instead of my own.

I growled at myself, angry.

I had to stop thinking about Cynthia like that. She was Dylan’s little sister. I couldn’t act on my desire for her, no matter how hot she was, rolling her hips down onto me, or how desperately she moaned my name.

With my eyes shut, I could imagine anyone here with me. Celebrities. Models.

I pictured a brunette with a pouty bottom lip and sensuous curves. I’d slide my hands under her bra and brush her nipples with my thumbs. Her head would fall back, exposing her long neck for me to lick and bite.

“Asher.” She was breathless, voice already wrecked with desire.

I’d let her ride on top of me for a while, chasing her pleasure. My dick was bigger than average. I knew it would drive her wild.

Her unbridled determination would fuel her, even here in my bed. What would it be like to watch her fully unwind and chase her pleasure?

“Cynthia,” I said, no longer able to fool myself as my libido wrangled control from my mind.

No fantasy would do. I wanted her. Her breasts, bouncing under my palms. Her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parted. Her hips rolling down onto mine. Her pussy greedily swallowing my dick.

I gasped as I remembered the feel of her body writhing against me. That was no fantasy. That had happened.

My dick jumped in my hand. I increased my pace.

I wouldn’t mind her riding me for a while, but more, I liked to give. If her pace faltered even for a moment in fatigue, I would flip her, pressing her down into the mattress.

I would give it to her, pounding my hips in just the right way. I’d have her a whimpering mess in record time. She begged me while sleeping, imagine if she had the real thing!

I’d give her everything I had. Harder. Faster. I’d make her sing until her voice cracked.

“Asher.” Again and again, she’d say my name, just like she had done in her bed.

My pleasure built and built. My heart raced, my blood pumped, all for her.

“Cynthia,” I said. Close, so close. ”Cyn – ah. Ah!”

Suddenly, I exploded like a firework. Light danced behind my eyes. My hips stuttered.

My hand stilled. Proof of my desire splattered onto my torso.

I hadn’t come that hard in a long time. Never, by myself. And not with any partner that I could remember.

This had all been for Cynthia.

The woman I couldn’t have.

My orgasmic high faded too quickly in the wake of that thought.

I had to get myself under better control.

Cynthia could never know how much I wanted her.