Lilah

The knock on my door is barely audible, almost lost in the silence of the night. Had I been asleep, it would have slipped past unnoticed. But sleep eludes me, my mind replaying the cringe-inducing silence that followed Mr. Whittaker's probing question about girlfriends. Tear-streaked and restless, I've been waiting for Asher to come home, hoping he would seek me out when he did. It's a relief that he finally has.

Slowly, I rise and open the door, careful not to make a sound.

As the door creaks open, Asher's arms wrap around my waist, pulling me close. His lips find mine in a hungry kiss, instantly melting away the tension in my body. I'm grateful for the darkness that conceals the swollen redness of my tear-stained eyes.

"I missed you," he murmurs between kisses.

We stumble into my room, the door closing softly behind us. His mouth returns to mine, the taste a curious yet captivating blend of bourbon and toothpaste. It's the first time he's come to me this late, and despite the whirlwind of thoughts threatening to consume me, I focus on savouring his taste and the way our tongues intertwine.

"I'm sleeping with you tonight," he declares, starting to unbutton his shirt.

Eager to have him near, I assist him in removing his shirt and tease in a whisper, "Just sleeping?"

"That was the plan."

"I'm going to die a virgin," I mutter, more to myself than to him.

He laughs, a low, husky sound that resonates in the stillness of the room. With a swift motion, he seizes me by the waist, pulling me onto the bed. Initially, I find myself on top, but within seconds, he deftly rolls me beneath him. As my legs instinctively fall open, embracing his hips, an awareness washes over me—I'm dressed in tiny sleep shorts and a snug singlet top. The sensation of his jeans-covered thighs nestled between mine sparks an electric current, his body heat seeping through the fabric. An intense surge of electricity sets me ablaze as his hands slide up my parted thighs and his kisses trail down my neck.

I bite my lip to stifle a moan, not wanting to alert anyone in the house. His hands slip under me and he palms my backside, causing me to spread my legs a little further apart. My mind is clouded with desire, and all I can think about is the way Asher's touch makes me feel. When his lips come back to mine, they're hot, his hands on my skin, hotter. Usually, he's the embodiment of control, especially when alcohol is involved. Maybe that's why he's here tonight, his guard lowered. He seems slightly tipsy, a state I've never seen him in before.

"Did you have a good night?" I ask between kisses, attempting to maintain a steady voice.

In the darkness, I sense him gazing down at me. "I couldn't stop thinking about you, about us."

His words hang in the air, making my heart flutter. In response, I reach out to caress his face.

"I need to see you," he murmurs.

Before I can protest, he flicks on my bedside light. His gaze explores my face, taking in every detail, including, I'm sure, the tell-tale signs of my earlier tears. His kisses, previously hot and demanding, soften, becoming tender and lingering. The gentleness of his touch sends my stomach into freefall, my heart pounding so loudly that it drowns out all other sounds.

When we finally break for air, he whispers, "I didn't want to go tonight, not without you."

"You're on the path to stardom, Asher. And this is just the beginning for you and MOD," I whisper. "I knew our time together was running out when we started this."

My voice breaks on the last word, and he catches it, staring down at me intensely.

"I don't want to break up, Lilah."

His words tear my heart in two. "You heard what Whittaker said—"

"That doesn't mean we can't prove him wrong."

"Asher...I..."

I wish things were different. I wish we had more time together, that we could be together without upending both our lives. I wish we weren't being pulled in two different directions. I wish we'd found each other later in life and that things were different. So, so different.

I don't say any of this out loud, but I don't need to. Asher has become adept at reading me, and he sees every pain-filled wish as it crosses my face.

"Do you know why I've resisted sleeping with you?" His question hangs in the air, his gaze searching mine.

I shake my head, lost for words.

He sighs, his eyes flitting between mine. "Initially, I wanted to take things slow, to savor every moment with you."

"And now?"

His eyes lock onto mine, unwavering even as he moves his lower body against mine in a way that steals the air from my lungs. His way of telling me it's not due to a lack of desire. "Now, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to be with you in that way and then just walk away. You've become this... addiction. I know that once I cross that line with you, once I have you, I won't be able to come back from it. I won't be able to deny myself. I won't be able to hold back, and it's going to wreck me to leave you, Lilah. It's going to shatter me."

He's. Killing. Me.

His confession only reinforces how desperately I want to be his. I lift my head, fitting my lips over his as I wrap my legs around his waist, anchoring him to me, intoxicated by his unique mix of bourbon and toothpaste and the fact I have him exactly where I want him - between my legs. A pulsating heat coils low in my belly. I was already slick and needy after kissing him, but the insistent pressure of his arousal against me is gasoline on the fire, setting my body alight.

"I need you," I plead. "Please."

I don't want him to leave without giving himself to me, without giving this to me. When he departs, he belongs to MOD and the world. But in this moment, this evening, in my bed, it belongs to me. To us. It won't last, but...

"I need to know you're mine," I whisper.

Even if it's just for tonight.

My words seem to ignite something within him. The raw intensity in his gaze fills me with anticipation. There's a wild, almost feral look in his eyes as he gathers himself. Sobriety replaces the tipsy glaze, and he gently lifts my chin, compelling me to meet his gaze.

"I am yours," he declares. "I always will be. You may not understand it now, but someday you will. Until then, I'm going to keep showing you how much you fucking own me, Lilah Kelly."

A powerful shiver ripples through me at his words, and I arch my back, silently urging him to take me. I want to give him everything, holding nothing back. He's the only one I've ever desired to cross this threshold with, and I have no doubts, no regrets.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" he asks.

"Asher, I've been ready—"

"No." He shakes his head. "If we do this, I'm not letting you go. Not for my sake. If you want me, you'll have me. I'm not giving up on us again. Do you understand?"

Considering the obstacles we'll face, I struggle to envision how we can truly be together. Yet, I can't bring myself to deny the elusive fantasy I've rarely allowed myself to indulge in—a future where the two of us are united. So, I offer a nod, and as he observes my compliance, his demeanour undergoes a noticeable shift.

In the bedroom, he has always allowed me to take the lead, guiding us to some extent. He never pushed for more, teasing me instead with his willingness to hold back and make me beg. However, now that I've fully committed myself to him, the intensity I've always sensed in him when he plays and composes music emerges. Suddenly, he possesses an unwavering determination to undress me and have me beneath him, causing a whirlwind of nerves to intertwine with the desire coiled in the pit of my belly.

Keeping me securely wrapped around him, he lifts us from the bed. With one hand sliding beneath my butt, he assists me in removing my singlet top. The moment his gaze fixates on my protruding breasts, aching for his touch, the hooded and seductive expression he wears compels me to instinctively tighten my legs around him. As he dips his head and takes one of my nipples into his mouth, I throw my head back and moan, overcome by pleasure. His sucking and nibbling actions make me writhe with delight.

"Asher," I gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair. "Please."

He pushes me back onto the bed, stepping away, leaving me yearning even as his eyes blaze with hunger.

My stomach drops as I watch him kick off his shoes before reaching for the button on his jeans and undoing it, followed by the fly. He retrieves a packet from his pocket—a condom, I think—and places it on my bedside table before kicking off his jeans. As I lie back on the bed, waiting for him, my breath catches as I gaze at the impressive and rigid length of him within the confines of his boxer briefs. Within seconds, he rejoins me on the bed.

His lips trace a path down my neck, lightly suckling as he reaches my shoulder, while his hands gently slide my sleep shorts off. My body feels as if it's teetering on the edge of an explosion. Panting, I struggle to contain my arousal as his mouth captures mine once more. The touch of Asher's lips upon me feels scorching, the heat piercing through my core. The anticipation swirling in my belly mirrors the throbbing ache between my legs. His fingers slip beneath my panties, exploring my folds to find me soaked, ready, and yearning for his touch. My body trembles in anticipation of the impending pleasure as he uses soft circles to prepare me, gradually increasing the speed and pressure. Beads of sweat form on my skin. The pulsating throb between my legs synchronizes with my frantic heartbeat, and his low groan fuels my desire as he delves deeper, starting with one finger and gradually adding another, eliciting a tight clench around him.

As the tension in my body intensifies, my breaths become shallow and my hips lift in pursuit of ultimate pleasure. His tongue plunges into my mouth, setting a rhythm that promises to push me over the edge, even as I yearn to be filled by more than just his fingers. I crave the union with him, surrendering to pleasure, and as ecstasy unfurls within me, I gasp into his kiss, waves of pleasure cascading through me.

Fuelled by my recent release, I push against his chest, and he allows me to flip us. Positioning myself on top, my hands roam over his chest, tracing his tattoos, relishing the sharp intake of his breath every time I edge closer to the elastic of his briefs. I kiss his mouth, his neck, tracing my path down to his chest. My tongue glides over his nipples, followed by a soft blow, savouring his involuntary thrust upwards, seeking friction. The faded scent of his Apollo fills my nose, reigniting my craving for him.

"Lilah."

I can feel the heat radiating from him as I continue to explore, and when I lick just below his belly button, he reacts as if jolted by electricity.

That's his cue to regain control. With a swift roll, he's back on top, his lips charting a trail down my body.

My entire body tingles and tightens in response. His mouth travels lower, teasing my navel before he settles between my legs.

When his tongue finally meets me between my legs, I'm desperate for him. I shift to open wider, aware of how every part of me quivers and burns with pleasure. Each stroke of his tongue winds the tension in my belly tighter and tighter, bringing me closer and closer to another orgasm—until Asher pauses.

"Please," I whisper.

"What do you want?"

"I need you," I tell him, the rest of my words swallowed up in a moan as he circles his finger around the opening.

"My tongue? My fingers? Tell me."

Yes and yes. But most of all, I need to feel him now. I need to surrender to him and let him take my body where I've only ever dreamt about going.

"I want you inside me, Ash."

His dark, hooded gaze is electric. "Are you sure you want this?"

Want me?

I hear the words, even though he doesn't say them aloud.

My breath hitches. "Yes," I whisper, my heart fluttering.

"Yes, what?"

"I want you. I'm ready." So freaking ready. "Do me already."

"I love you," he whispers, his lips brushing against mine.

"Asher," I whisper.

He retrieves the condom from the bedside table, where he had previously placed it after taking it out of his jeans pocket, and tears the wrapper open, rolling it over himself. I swallow as I take in just how huge he is. With Ethan, I always worried about how much sex would hurt, but tonight I don't care about the pain or how much it might hurt; I just need him. Being with him in this way is all that matters. Once it's on, he lays on his back and I straddle him, guiding him between my legs until I can feel him pressing against me, leaving me breathless. To accommodate him, I widen my thighs, and as I begin to sink onto him, he firmly grasps my hips. However, even though I'm wetter than I've ever been, it takes some effort to overcome the resistance of the broad head of his shaft. Once I manage to, I start to slide down his length slowly, a slight sting causing me to wince. He sits up and kisses me passionately, feeding me hot and sweet kisses that continue until I've completely taken him inside. His rigid shaft fills me entirely. The realization leaves me breathless and gasping as I feel him pulsate within me. My body tightens around him, clenching even tighter.

He seems to be holding back, his breathing ragged, his cheeks flushed. I don't think I've ever seen anything sexier. My sexy rock god stepbrother who is destined to set the world on fire with his music. The sensation of being with him like this overwhelms me, leaving me almost dizzy and euphoric, a mingling of pain and pleasure that intensifies with each passing moment. My eyes wander to the point where our bodies are joined, my heart pounding relentlessly against my ribcage. Placing my hands on his chest, he lays back down and I start to slide up and down his length slowly and deliberately. At first, it feels unfamiliar and slightly uncomfortable, but soon my body adjusts to his, I grow even wetter, and it starts to feel good. With the discomfort gone, I become bolder and begin to experiment. I lean backward, I lean forward. I sit up straight and circle my hips, each motion propelling me closer to the brink of ecstasy once again. My breath quickens as his hands encircle my hips, holding me firmly in place and momentarily halting my movements.

"Feels too good," he grunts. "Need a moment."

The strength of his desire for me is overpowering, almost unbearable to withstand. While he keeps me immobile, every nerve ending tingles with intense sensation. The intensity in his gaze as he watches me leaves me feeling exposed, as if every layer has been peeled away. Transparent. Every nerve ending is firing off and I'm left with desperate longing to move again. I can't resist rocking my hips. Overwhelmed by the sensation, I gasp as he groans.

"Fuck it," he murmurs, and then he urges me to move, his hands guiding me up and down his length faster and harder.

Quickly, pleasure builds and builds, each movement taking me higher and higher. As high as I reach, I can't quite find the peak I'm yearning for. Then, he adjusts my position slightly, so I'm not taking him as deeply, feeling myself rubbing against the base of his cock with each descent. It doesn't take long for me to start unravelling, heat and tension building with nowhere else to go but explode into intense pleasure. Wave after wave of ecstasy rocks through me. This orgasm is like nothing I've experienced before. My entire body clenches around him, and he groans loudly as my body tightens around his, craving everything he can give me. Then, he takes hold of my hips, moving me as he desires, faster, harder. Until he firmly pulls me down on top of him, holding me in place as his body jerks inside mine. This sensation triggers another surge of pleasure, and I clench around him once more.

Sated and exhausted, I collapse against his chest, and he tightly wraps his arms around me. He kisses my hair and my neck, and I nestle deeper into him.

After a few minutes, he gently disentangles us and rises to use my bathroom. Immediately, my thoughts return to his words about not giving up on us again. Did he truly mean it? Can we overcome the obstacles?

When he returns from the bathroom, he slides back into bed beside me, drawing me back into his arms. I rest my head upon his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. My heart is so full of love for him that the idea we won't make it is a tangible ache in my chest.

His finger traces soothing patterns over my back, and he reads my silence so astutely that it unnerves me. "We'll make it work," he says. "We'll call and text and FaceTime. I'll visit as often as possible."

I nod against his chest. Yet, despite his reassurance, the weight of our uncertain future still hangs over me. I can't figure out how we're supposed to navigate being a couple once this year ends, or how Ethan, our parents, or the world will perceive us if we choose not to break up.

There are countless unknowns, and it feels overwhelming. Numerous obstacles stand in our path. All I know is that I love Asher, and the thought of a life without him is unimaginable. So, for the first time, I allow myself to be selfish—to dream of holding onto him, claiming him as mine, and believing that we are destined for more than this short, secret relationship. With these hopeful thoughts, I finally fall asleep in his arms, wrapped in the fantasy that we are no longer impossible.