Asher: One.

Three minutes have passed already?

Cursing under my breath, I unhook my bra and slide my panties down my legs. A tremor possesses my fingers as my underwear joins my clothes on the floor.

I lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling, resisting the urge to pull the covers up and hide my nudity.

Yes, Asher has seen me naked before, but it’s the first time he’s ordered me ever so bluntly to get nude. And to my fucking dismay, arousal coats my thighs. He hasn’t even put his hands on me yet, but I haven’t ever felt as turned on as I do right now.

I rub my thighs together to alleviate the tension, but that only makes it worse, more aching, more unreachable.

This is pure torture.

And only Asher can end it.

The click of the door is deafening in the silence of the room. I refrain from sighing in relief.

But that’s wrong. I shouldn’t be relieved when I have no idea what he plans to do with me.

After all, this is Asher. Being unpredictable is his modus operandi.

His steps are quiet, but I can almost imagine him stalking in my direction. I don’t dare look up or change position. For some reason, I sense that I have to remain this way.

It feels like forever before he finally comes into view.

My lips part.

He’s fully naked, too. His sculpted abs are taut and begging for my fingers to run over them, touch them, hug them –and eventually lick them. The V lines create a masculine view down his hips, but not more than what it leads to.

His dick is so thick and long and hard—so hard it’s throbbing. God, how did he fit that thing in me?

It takes me a few seconds to focus back on his face. What I find there causes a shudder to crawl between my ribs and settle in my heart.

There’s something unintelligible in his gaze, a madness, an unknown.

He reaches out his index finger and flicks it over my nipple. It thickens into a painful tip. His touch is nonchalant, but it creates a war zone in my starving body.

My poor, sensitive body.

A tingle of pleasure dances down my stomach, clenching for more.

“What did I say?” His tone is calm, too calm—too good to be true.

“W-what?” I’m too distracted by his finger to concentrate on words.

“I told you to lie on your stomach, prom queen.”

He did.

Oh, God. He did.

Why the hell did I lie on my back instead? At the time, it felt like a normal thing to do, almost as if he told me to.

I move to comply. There’s this urge to fix my mistake; no idea why I have it, I just…do.

Asher wraps a hand around my throat, stopping me in my tracks. The tsking sound he makes wraps a different type of noose around me.

“You’ve screwed up twice today, prom queen. I’ll have to remind you how it goes between us.”

His hold on my throat tightens, and I grab his hand with both of mine. My air is about to be cut off and I claw at him to let me go.

God, I enjoy this dynamic between us a bit too much.

“Drop your hands or I’ll tie them.”

He…can’t possibly mean that, right?

When I don’t comply, he releases my throat. I gasp for air as he reaches down to the heap of my clothes. I barely have time to focus as he retrieves my bra and yanks both my hands over my head.

“Ash…what are you doing?”

“I told you—don’t fight me when it comes to how things work between us.” He snaps both my wrists together and secures them to the bedpost over my head.

I lie in front of him, naked and bound. My chest heaves and my breasts ache with the need to be touched, to be used.

Something about this position is so intimate, so exposing, and yet, it’s so…right.

It’s wrong to feel so right. It’s sick and demented.

“Now, about that punishment…” His hand holds my throat hostage again, and this time he straddles my stomach, his knees on either side of me.

From this position, he appears so devastating and godlike, dangerous and thrilling.

“I’m going to fuck your pussy hard and fast until you scream my name, but I won’t stop there. Even when you’re shaking and begging me to stop, I won’t. You know what I’ll do next?” He pauses, and I suck in a breath through my quivering lips. “I’m going to fuck your ass and claim every inch of you so when I’m done, you won’t dare think about another man, let alone let them touch you.”

My breaths turn choppy and shallow as I try to make sense of his words. He…he’s going to fuck my ass.

That’s supposed to scare me, but my thighs are tightening for an entirely different reason.

“I’ll fuck the memory of any other bastard out of you, Reina.”

He doesn’t need to. Asher is the only man in my memories. I don’t need any of the others now that I have him.

“Open your mouth.”

“Why?”

“When I give you an order, you obey, prom queen.”

Goddamn him and his bossy side, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t affect me. The insides of my legs are coated in a sick type of arousal.

The moment I part my lips, he shoves something black between them. Wait—is that a…butt plug?

“Suck it.”

I don’t break eye contact as I do that. His authority and the easy way he commands me sparks pleasure over my entire body.

Lapping my tongue around the plastic thing, I make a show of sucking it like I do to his cock. He loves it when I get down on my knees in the shower and take him at the back of my throat.

As he said, he’s the only man I’d ever get on my knees for.

Asher’s eyes darken and his cock thickens even more between my naked legs, nearly aligning with my slick folds.

“Enough.” He grinds his teeth, popping the plug out. “I was going to ease you into it.” He grabs the flesh of my thigh, tracing a gentle finger up to my core.

Only there’s nothing gentle about the predatory look he’s giving me.

His finger slips inside my soaked entrance, and I bite my lower lip.

“But you had to play your games.”

Unintelligible whimpers are the only sounds I can make. I want more of that finger, of those hands, of him.

I just want all of him, and sometimes, like right now, it scares me.

How is it possible for someone to want another human being without limits? Without thoughts about consequences?

“Do you know what happens when you play games with me?” He removes his fingers from around my neck and slaps my thighs apart.

I cry out, but before I can come down from the surprise, he slaps the side of my ass cheek.

My moan is broken and barely audible.

“I play you back.” He slams into me in one vicious go.

My thighs shake and my walls tighten at the intrusion. My back arches off the bed and everything becomes so full of Asher, his thickness, his sandalwood scent mixed with citrus, his force and even his damn games.

Being bound to the bedpost only heightens the sensation of being completely at his mercy—or the lack thereof.

“How many fucking times have I told you not to test me?” His thrusts are sharp and violent, barely giving me space to breathe, let alone think.

He’s punishing me and I’m enjoying every stroke of pain, every brutal touch and savage connection.