Page 58 of On One Condition

I ache. From the command in his touch. From the soft scrape of his stubble. From the heat of his body as he lays me on my bed. From the way he whispers my name in the dark.

Need builds. It’s just as poignant and ravenous as earlier but now is more reverent in nature.

His fingers find their way between my thighs. His groan as he tucks two fingers into me is a seduction in and of itself and only serves to make me wetter.

His fingers start to move. Slow at first. In tandem with his other movements. His lips close over the peak of my breast as his fingers push in and pull out. It’s a luxurious pace, much like our kissing, that elevates me to a heightened state of arousal where my orgasm is floating on the fringes, almost within reach, but not quite close enough.

“Spread your legs for me, Ash,” he whispers in my ear before tugging on my earlobe. “Let me admire what I fucked into oblivion earlier. What I made sore.” The slide of his tongue along the curve of my shoulder. “Let me kiss it and make it all better.”

His words are unexpected and yet so very expected. He’s a man always in control. A man used to his orders being obeyed. A man who always has his eyes on the prize.

And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on.

So I do as he asks when he leans upon his haunches between my thighs.

He sucks in a sharp breath when he sees me, his hands running ever so slowly and softly up and down my inner thighs.

That smoldering ache I had? Now it’s a raging wildfire of need.

His mouth follows the path of his hands, lacing kisses from the curve of my knee to the top of my pussy. And when he kisses me there, when he slides his tongue up and down and the warmth of it hits me, my entire body convulses with desire.

He breathes in through his nose. “God, I love the fucking smell of you,” he murmurs before he closes his lips around my clit. I gasp as my hands fly out to grip his hair. “The taste of you.” He hums against me so that the vibrations can be felt before leaning back upon his haunches. “The fucking feel of you.” With his bottom lip between his teeth, he lines his cock up to my entrance and then thrusts his way into me.

More.

It’s my first thought.

It’s greedy and crass, but it’s true. I had this feeling only hours ago, I’m having this feeling now, and I know I’ll want him all over again soon enough.

But when he begins to move, thoughts aren’t possible other than focusing on how good it feels when the crest of his cock adds its friction against each and every nerve I have.

“Ledger,” I moan through the mounting pleasure swamping me.

His mouth meets mine again, the motion causing him to go even deeper inside of me. His tongue and lips own my mouth much like his cock does my pussy.

“Show me what you do,” he murmurs against my lips. “Teach me how to pleasure you, Ash. I want to know.” He takes my hand and moves it between my thighs. “Show me.”

I wait for the awkwardness to hit when he sits back up to watch how I work my fingers over my clit. I’m slow at first. A little clumsy from being watched. But his groan spurs me on. The way his tongue licks over his bottom lip adds to it.

And when he starts moving, when his sizeable cock begins to work in and out of me, I forget about how he’s watching me and get lost in the rhythm. I get lost in the feel of it. Of him inside and my fingers outside.

My body soars with sensations. Bit by bit. Inch by inch. Thrust by thrust.

My breath quickens. My muscles tense. My back arches. My toes curl.

“Ash.” My name is a panted breath.

The coil in my core twists tighter. And right before it snaps, just as I tighten around his cock about to fall over the edge and into blissful oblivion, Ledger grabs the back of my neck and forces me to do what he commands, “Look at me.”

And I do.

Amber eyes meet mine. They’re clouded with lust and determination and everything that’s Ledger.

Only Ledger.

The orgasm hits me like a tsunami. Hard, fast, and relentless. It surges through me, touching every part of me as it goes. It ebbs for a beat before coming back to wrack my senses again—a little gentler than the wave before it.

I’m lost in its warmth, in its swell, when Ledger’s fingers tighten on my hips and his gritted groan fills the room. I have enough of my faculties to open my eyes and appreciate something I wasn’t afforded earlier at Connor’s—the glorious sight of Ledger Sharpe coming undone. Of witnessing what I do to him. Of feeling the power of the moment.