Torn(39)

He curves his index finger under the lace, the very tip of it running over my cleft.

I close my eyes, breathless, as I finally feel his tongue touch my swollen clit.





CHAPTER 30


Asher




I cup my hands over my nose and mouth, breathing in the scent. It's her. It's the smell of Falon's arousal. I ate her for so long that she quivered in my arms when I finally stopped, her voice no more than a whisper when she told me she needed a minute. That minute turned into an hour and now two. She fell asleep with her head resting on my bicep, her legs entangled with mine.

I was hard, so f*cking hard, that I was tempted to fist my cock until I came while she slept beside me but watching her sleep and listening to her breathe was enough to take the edge off. I know I'll have her when she wakes up.

When she rolled onto her back and away from me, I felt deprived at the loss of her touch. I've seldom spent an entire night with a woman since I've been sober. It's not because I don't allow women in my bed, or I hate sharing the covers, it's just not who I am.

I crave solitude. I need it to write and to create. The difference now is that I'm at the dining room table, a notepad open in front of me while I jot down lyrics for a song about Falon. I have to express it this way. This is how I feel. I put it in lyrics and set it to music.

"You weren't next to me when I woke up." Her voice is low and throaty.

I turn towards the bedroom to see her standing in the doorway, a sheet wrapped around her body. I can barely make out her features in the dim light. I don't need to. I memorized every inch of her face when she asleep.

"I'm writing." I tap the seat of the chair next to me. "Come and sit with me."

"You could come back to bed," she coaxes. "We can finish what we started."

My cock hardens at the palpable need in her voice. I love that she can't get enough of me either. "We will. You'll sit with me first and then I'll f*ck you on this table."

"On the table," she repeats quietly as she walks toward me before lowering herself, and the sheet that's covering her into the chair.

"I'm writing a song." I tap the point of the pencil against the paper. "I write best at night."

She bites her bottom lip as her eyes drop from my face to the paper. She edges forward on the chair, twisting her neck slightly. She's trying to read the words I've jotted down.

They're fragmented thoughts that aren't fleshed out yet. They wouldn’t mean a thing to her so I spin the paper around so she can read it.

She arches her brow. "May I?"

"Be my guest." I drop the pencil and lean back on the chair, crossing my arms over my bare chest. I'd put on a pair of dark sweatpants after I left the bed, but I didn't bother with a shirt. The air conditioning is on high, but it's still warm in here. Besides, I like the way she studies my tattoos when I'm shirtless. I'm waiting for the day when she asks me what they mean.

"Do you usually write the lyrics or the melody first?" She pulls a hand through her hair. It does nothing to calm it. I'm glad. I love it like this. It's as wild and uninhibited as she is when she's in bed with me.

No one has ever asked me that. I stop to think. "It depends on the song. Sometimes a melody gets stuck in my head. It feels like it runs on repeat until I get it out. I'll play it on my guitar or my piano first. I usually record it on my phone so it doesn't slip away."

"Other times it's the lyrics?" She touches the edge of the notepad before she tugs the white sheet tighter around her breasts. "Are these the lyrics to the melody you played for me in your studio?"

I lean my elbows on the table. "They're not. I haven't found the right lyrics for that melody and these lyrics don't have a melody yet."

"Why don't you combine them?" She steeples her fingers before she weaves them together. "I just helped you write a song."

I look at her. Her brows are perched, her eyes open wide. I cover the notepad with my hand as I laugh. "That's not how it works. This song is special. I need just the right melody."

"The one I heard at the studio isn't the right one?"

I shake my head. "When I find the right lyrics for that, I'll know."

She leans her chin on her hand as her elbow rests against the table. She studies me, her gaze floating over my entire face. "This will be a hit song, won't it?"

"It doesn't matter if this song is a hit or the one I'm working on at the studio, because every song I'm writing is for you."

She swallows hard, her hand reaching out to touch my cheek. "You sure know how to take a girl's breath away."

"You took mine when I first saw you." She did and I never want it back.

***

"I can't believe the table didn't break." She walks back into the bedroom with a chilled bottle of water in her hand. "Where do you buy a table that can withstand that much force?"

"Why?" I reach out to take the water from her so I a swallow a mouthful. "If you want to be f*cked on a table, Falon, I'm your man."

She crosses her arms over her bare breasts. "I'd say you're the Master, but that's not my scene."

I motion for her to get into the bed next to me. I f*cked her so hard that I'm actually exhausted. She crawled onto the table when I went into the bedroom to get a condom. By the time I came back she was naked on her back, her * glistening wet.