I Think He Knows

𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘀𝗵𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄

𝗠𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗖𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲
𝟯𝟰
☀︎︎

I stood still as Asher manhandled my head, the back of my dark hair curled in his fist as he held me still, the whisk still drilling into the skin of my neck. It felt like he was doing this a little too roughly but I just kept my mouth shut since I knew he'd call me a baby and then I'd get the urge to lean down and press my lips onto his.

I've been getting that urge every time I look at him lately, it seemed as though he was getting more and more beautiful each time. I knew I was in deep, falling faster than I should have especially since Asher had broken it off with me twice now and then been the one to initiate things too. He was the one to break my heart and yet I still came back for more once he would change his mind again, his presence alone could heal me.

He no longer confused me though. All he needed was support right now and I'd be there every step of the way, I could be patient, and now that I've realized how Asher coped with his feelings I knew not to enable him anymore. It would be hard to reject any sexual advances from someone so pretty but I could stay strong until he was ready.

Asher had quickly become the most important person in my life and I would do anything to help him.

He stood there gripping my wavy hair with furrowed brows and a look of concentration. He had kicked his family into the living room which was just a couple of feet away so that his 'de-hickey-fying' me could be a private session. Those were his exact words.

I loved the way he made up words or chose the stupidest phrases to get his points across, it was charming and adorable to me. I loved how he was a pervert and always stared at my ass, or smacked my ass. It simultaneously made me feel bashful and attractive with the way his amber eyes burned with desire as he unashamedly stared. I love the way he dressed in slightly cropped t-shirts and baggy jeans showing just a sliver of his pale skin and the curve of his hip bone, the silver jewelry he always wore, and the fact he was wearing the bracelet I'd gotten him right now. I loved it just as much when he had on my clothes, all of the pieces too long in the arms or legs and just a little baggy on his thin body.

I loved his tattoos and dyed red hair, I also loved getting to dye it for him as an excuse to play with the soft strands for a couple of hours. His freckles that scattered across his cheeks and the piercings in his ears and on his chest. The fact he somehow managed to be all of my desires without having to discuss them at all, like the way earlier he had just known I would enjoy watching him pleasure himself and a while ago when he had asked me to choke him. I would have never said anything out of sheer embarrassment of my weird kinks in bed but I didn't have to since those were things he enjoyed too.

I loved everything about Asher.

I love him.

I love him.

My eyes went wide with the wild realization and my body stiffened under the man in question's touch. He glanced up and pulled back the whisk with concern, "did I hurt you?" He asked. "I'm sorry, I'll be more gentle."

Oh my God, I love him so much. I knew I couldn't tell him yet since he had just today admitted he liked me, I couldn't do what I had yesterday and let it out without warning and scare him. Asher felt comfortable going slow and I would respect that.

Asher cleared his throat and jabbed the whisk into my cheek gaining my attention. "Hello? Was I hurting you or not?" He pressed. "I need to know whether or not to take back my apology since you're ignoring me."