Chapter 3

three

. . .

Sloane

“Sloane,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly. “You’re wet already.”

“Been wet since I saw you in the library,” I confess—a ridiculous but true admission.

“That’s so fucking hot. Do you want to play…a different game?”

“Is that your way of asking me if I consent? Because the answer is fucking yes .”

He crashes his lips against mine, the kiss hot and wet, before trailing his tongue along my cheek to my ear.

“Take off your top,” he murmurs, his hands sliding from my hips to the hem of my tank top. His touch sends a jolt of electricity through me as he pulls it upward.

I hesitate for only a second before letting him guide the tank up and over my head, leaving me bare except for my bra. His eyes darken as they rake over my skin.

“Fuck, Sloane,” he breathes, his hands sliding up my sides. “You’re gorgeous.”

I bite my lip, arching slightly into his touch as his fingers brush against the edge of my bra. His lips find mine again, hungrier this time, and I lose myself in the heat of his kiss. Every press of his mouth feels like a spark, igniting something deep inside me that I can’t control, don’t want to control.

“And these…” he murmurs against my neck, his voice low and full of need.

His hands slide beneath the fabric of my bra, his palms warm against the softness of my skin as he cups my breasts. The sensation sends a shiver through me, and I instinctively arch closer, craving more of his touch.

“Fuck, Sloane,” he whispers, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, teasing, circling, until they tighten under his touch. “These are perfect.”

I whimper softly, the sound escaping before I can stop it. He pulls back just enough to look at me, his gaze dark and heavy as it travels down to where his hands hold me.

“Take it off,” he says, his voice a mixture of command and plea. “I need to see you.”

My heart races as I reach behind me, fumbling slightly with the clasp of my bra. His hands steady mine, his touch sure and confident, and with a soft click, the straps fall loose. He slides the straps down my arms, his eyes locked on me as the fabric drops away.

When I’m finally bare, his breath catches. “Jesus, Sloane…”

The way he looks at me makes my cheeks flush, but not from embarrassment. There’s no hesitation in his gaze, just raw, unfiltered appreciation that makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

His hands return to me, rougher now, more urgent. He runs his palms over my full breasts, then leans in, brushing his lips across the curve of one. My breathing hitches as his mouth finds my nipple, warm and wet, his tongue flicking over it in slow, deliberate strokes.

I moan softly, threading my fingers through his hair as he alternates between teasing and sucking, his free hand massaging my other breast. Every touch, every kiss sends waves of heat pooling low in my stomach, my body responding to him like it’s been waiting for this moment all along.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs, his lips moving against my skin. His words vibrate through me, making my toes curl.

I tilt his face up, guiding his mouth back to mine, desperate for more. His lips crash into mine, his hands roaming my body like he’s trying to memorize every inch.

“Fuck, Sloane,” he breathes again, his voice ragged. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

“Mmm yeah?” I murmur. My breath ragged, I kiss his shoulder and run my hand over his stomach, tracing the ridges of his abs. “What do you want me to be doing to you though?”

“Get on your knees,” he whispers, his hands sliding off my hips as he stands.

“Yes, sir,” I reply with a teasing grin, lowering my voice. “Be gentle, though?”

“Yeah? You like gentle?” he asks, his eyes darkening.

“Well…it’s just that you’re…uh…I mean…”

“You okay?”

I swallow. “It’s that you’re fucking huge, Asher.”

He smirks, sliding a hand over my ass, squeezing as he kisses me again. His tone softening, he adds, “I’ll be gentle. Promise.”

“Well, you don’t have to be too gentle,” I murmur.

His expression shifts, serious and tender. “If you’re uncomfortable at any point, let me know. Okay?”

When I don’t immediately respond, he tips my chin up, his gaze locking onto mine.

“Okay? I need some verbal communication, you sexy nerd.”

“Yes,” I say, my voice steady. “I’ll let you know. I feel very comfortable with you.”

“Good girl. Now…on your knees, Sloane.”

The way he says my name, all raspy and whispered, sends a bolt of adrenaline through me. He grabs a pillow from his bed and places it on the floor. I kneel, the soft cushion beneath me.

I reach for him, wrapping my fingers around his length as he grows harder in my hand.

“Fuck, Asher,” I murmur, trailing my other hand up his firm abs, feeling the heat of his skin. “You have a perfect dick.”

I wet my lips and take him in my mouth, starting at the tip. He groans, threading his fingers through my hair.

“That’s it, Sloane. Take me easy,” he says, his voice tight with restraint.

I swirl my tongue around him, exploring his ridges, and slowly slide him deeper, letting him fill my mouth. His hand in my hair steadies me as I take him to the back of my throat. After a moment, I gag and pull back, gasping.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice laced with genuine concern.

“Yeah,” I say quickly, nodding.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” I repeat, my cheeks flushing. “It’s just…I didn’t do this much with…you know…him.”

“He didn’t like head?”

I shake my head, embarrassed. “We were both raised kind of religious. It’s a long story.”

“Mmm, I see,” he says, his tone gentle. “Well, here.”

He moves, and I let go of him. He grabs a towel and lays it on the couch before sitting down.

“This will be more comfortable for you,” he says, motioning for me to join him.

I inch closer, wrapping my hand around his base again. “Just teach me how you like it. Do you want it deep?”

“Deep is good, yeah,” he says, his voice thick with arousal.

“It’s embarrassing when I gag, though,” I admit softly.

“It’s fucking hot when you gag, is what it is,” he says with a grin. “But just hold me at the base like you are, and bob as far as you can. That’s what I like.”

“Mmmkay.”

Kneeling between his legs, I find a better angle. He holds my hair out of my face as I move, building a rhythm. His groans deepen, his fingers tightening slightly in my hair, and I realize how much I’m enjoying this, the sense of control mixed with the thrill of his reaction.

“Fuck, Sloane,” he groans as I take him in my mouth, my hand exploring his abs. “You have no idea how good that feels.”

I build a rhythm, taking him deeper as his hand tangles in my hair, guiding me. His groans deepen, and I know I’m driving him crazy.

Just then, the table beside us buzzes. I ignore it—probably Jacklyn checking in. But it buzzes again.

Asher reaches over me to grab my phone.

“Hey,” he says, tapping me on the head. “It’s Joe.”

I pull back, sighing. “Fuck.”

He hands me the phone, and I press it to my ear.

“Yeah?”

“What the fuck is this?” Joe’s voice is sharp. “You’re breaking up with me? With a fucking note ? Sloane, we had a plan!”

I keep one hand wrapped around Asher, stroking him slowly, slick with his arousal. “We had a plan,” I reply calmly. “Until you started treating me like shit and hitting on other girls.”

“What are you even talking about?” Joe protests. “It was a game of beer pong!”

“Oh? What about Fiona?”

The silence on the other end stretches a moment too long, and I know I’ve hit a nerve.

Asher smirks, and with one smooth movement, the fingers of one hand slip between my thighs, pressing against my heat through the thin fabric. My breath catches, the sudden jolt of sensation sending a shockwave through me.

“You okay?” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear, his voice low and teasing as his fingers begin to move, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every reaction.

Joe’s voice pulls me back, distant and strained. “That wasn’t a big deal, okay? She means nothing! We planned a life, Sloane!”

I press the speaker button on the phone, my mind swimming as I try to refocus on the conversation. The faint sound of Joe’s pleading feels miles away compared to the heat pooling low in my belly, my body arching involuntarily toward Asher’s touch.

“Yeah, we did,” I say flatly, my voice steadier than I feel. “But that’s not how I want to be treated. I don’t give second chances.”

“This is bullshit! At least come talk to me. Where are you? Who are you with?” Joe’s frustration grows louder, but it’s hard to process his words when every nerve in my body is lighting up, the tension coiling tighter with every deliberate movement of Asher’s hand.

Asher leans closer, his lips brushing against my hair as he whispers, “This is fucked up, but it’s so damn hot.”

My pulse races, my breath uneven as a soft moan escapes me. The mix of anger, vindication, and sheer desire swirling inside me is intoxicating, almost overwhelming. My grip on the phone tightens as I struggle to maintain my composure, but Asher’s touch is relentless, his fingers drawing me closer and closer to the edge with every passing second.

Joe’s voice cuts through again. “Sloane! What’s going on? Who’s there?”

“Nothing,” I say, my voice steady. “I’m with no one.”

Asher’s movements intensify, his fingers delving deeper, and I lose myself in the moment. The faint voice in my head, the one urging me to take the high road, is drowned out by the electricity crackling between us.

My orgasm hits me like a wave, shuddering through my entire body as his fingers work their magic. It’s all I can do not to let out a loud moan. The tension uncoils with an intensity that leaves me trembling, my legs shaking as pleasure washes over me, leaving me breathless.

Asher doesn’t relent, his grip steady and sure, keeping me grounded as he pulls me closer. My body is still pulsing with aftershocks, every nerve alight, when he grabs the phone from my hand and tosses it aside like it’s an afterthought.

He thrusts into my mouth, his control unraveling by the second. I meet his movements eagerly, wrapping one hand around his base while the other runs over his shaft, working him in rhythm with the motion of my lips.

Yeah. I see where he got his ‘reputation.’ He’s intimidatingly long and thick. A two hander .

I’m drenched as my tongue swirls and teases, the combination of hands and mouth drawing a ragged groan from deep within him.

“I’m gonna blow if you don’t stop, Sloane,” he growls, his voice rough and thick with warning, but I don’t let up. Instead, I double down, the vibration of my hum against him only spurring him further, his hips bucking involuntarily as he teeters on the edge.

Big as he is, I don’t falter. The thought pulses in my mind, driving me forward as I take him deeper down my throat, determined to see him completely undone. His groan rumbles through the air, guttural and raw, and his hips jerk as he reaches the edge.

I manage to swallow a few spurts of his release, the salty heat overwhelming, but I can’t hold back any longer. I pull off him, coughing slightly, my chest heaving.

Asher doesn’t miss a beat. Standing over me, he grips himself tightly, his jaw clenched as he directs the rest of his release onto my face.

The moment feels charged, intimate in a way I hadn’t expected, as I look up at him, his body still trembling slightly, his breath ragged.

I wipe at the corner of my mouth, laughing softly despite the flush of heat spreading across my cheeks. “You’re a cocky bastard,” I murmur, meeting his gaze.

He grins down at me, completely unrepentant. “Not wrong, though,” he says, his voice still low and rough, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes that makes my pulse skip.

I manage to take a few spurts before I choke and pull off him, coughing slightly. Asher stands, gripping himself, and directs the rest of his release onto my face.

“Sloane? Sloane?” Joe’s voice barks from the phone, still on speaker.

I’m in some alternate universe. I just sucked off the backup quarterback, and not only did I love it, but he’s pulled something out of me—some part of myself I didn’t even know existed.

Asher and I glance at the phone. Without hesitation, he grabs it, his voice low and raspy.

“Sloane can’t come to the phone right now. She’s busy.”

Then he hangs up.

On my knees, staring up at his tall frame, I take a few heavy breaths, still coming down from everything.

“Holy shit,” I mutter. “You just did that.”

He shrugs, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “That was so fucking hot.”

He sits back on the couch, then pulls me up to sit beside him. “Come here.”

Standing briefly, he grabs a towel from his closet and carefully wipes me off. For a few moments, we sit in silence. My head rests on his shoulder, and despite everything, I feel oddly comfortable.

The phone buzzes again. I decline it.

“I cannot believe you just did that,” I say with a laugh. “That’s insane.”

“Sorry. Over the line? I just couldn’t take his bullshit anymore.”

“It was a dick move,” I admit, though there’s no heat in my voice.

“He deserved it.”

We sit like that for a while—minutes? An hour? I lose track. His arm around me feels grounding, a warmth I didn’t realize I’d been missing.

“You just came on my face,” I laugh suddenly, breaking the quiet.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I did. Never did that before. Just felt right.”

“You don’t do this a lot?”

He smirks. “It’s been a while for me.”

I stand, heaving a soft sigh. “Alright. Well, I guess I better get going.”

“You sure you don’t want to stick around?” he asks, his voice soft, almost hopeful.

“That sounds lovely, but…I think it’s best if I head home tonight.”

“I understand.”

I glance at my panties on the arm of the chair but decide to leave them. There’s something freeing about not putting them back on.

“Guess I’ll see you. Good luck at the game tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

Despite the situation—despite him standing there completely naked—it doesn’t feel awkward. His confidence, the easy way he moves, makes it all strangely natural.

“Hey, Sloane.” He takes my hand as I turn to leave, his grip warm and steady. “I don’t know what this is—was? Tonight. But I want to see you again. And if you need anything, let me know.”

My eyes drop to the floor, a faint smile tugging at my lips.

“I will. Thanks.”

I open the door to his room, peeking to make sure Joe isn’t in the hallway, then slip out the side door of the frat house and into the night.

I feel like I should feel dirty.

But really?

I feel exhilarated.

Freer than I’ve been in a long, long time.