Chapter 2: Morning After
Ashley woke to the warm weight of Brad’s arm draped over her waist, his breath slow and steady against the back of her neck. Sunlight cut through the half-open blinds, painting stripes across the tangled sheets. Her body hummed with the aftershocks of last night—the delicious soreness between her thighs, the faint sting of his teeth on her shoulder.
She shifted slightly, and Brad stirred behind her, his grip tightening.
“Mmm. Morning,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep. His hand slid up her stomach, fingers brushing the underside of her breast, teasing.
Ashley smirked. “Someone’s eager.”
Brad nipped at her ear. “You started this.”
She rolled onto her back, meeting his gaze. His hair was a mess, his stubble darker against his jaw. The sunlight caught the flecks of gold in his eyes, and for a second, she forgot to breathe.
Then his hand was between her legs, fingers tracing the damp seam of her with knowing pressure. She gasped, hips jerking into his touch.
“Still so fucking sensitive,” he muttered, watching her face as he worked slow circles over her clit.
Ashley dug her nails into his forearm, legs falling open wider. “Asshole,” she breathed, but there was no bite to it.
Brad grinned and ducked his head, dragging his tongue over one nipple before sucking it deep into his mouth while his fingers pushed inside her, curling just right.
“Oh, fuck—” Her back arched off the mattress, pleasure sparking white-hot. She could already feel herself clenching around his fingers, wetness soaking his hand.
Brad pulled back just enough to watch her face as he fucked her with his fingers, steady and relentless. “You gonna come already?” he taunted, thumb pressing harder.
She let out a ragged moan, toes curling into the sheets as the orgasm ripped through her, sudden and brutal.
Before she could catch her breath, Brad was flipping her onto her stomach, dragging her hips up. The head of his cock pressed against her, slick with her arousal.
“Tell me you want it,” he growled.
Ashley shoved back against him, impatient. “Stop fucking teasing.”
He slammed into her in one stroke, burying himself to the hilt. The stretch burned just enough to make her whimper, her fingers twisting in the sheets. Brad wrapped a hand in her hair, pulling just shy of painful as he set a punishing rhythm.
Each thrust drove her deeper into the mattress, her tits swaying beneath her, nipples rubbing against the sheets. The slap of skin on skin filled the room, mingling with their ragged breaths.
“God, you take me so good,” Brad muttered, hips snapping forward. “Fucking made for this.”
Ashley choked out a laugh, half-moan. “Keep—ah—keep talking like that and I might actually believe you.”
He leaned over her, biting the curve of her shoulder as his hand slid beneath her, fingers finding her clit again. “Then come again,” he ordered. “I wanna feel you squeeze me dry.”
The pressure built fast, coiled tight in her belly. When she came this time, it wrenched a scream from her throat, her body clamping down around him like a vice. Brad groaned, his thrusts turning erratic before he spilled inside her with a curse, hips jerking against her ass.
For a long moment, the only sound was their breathing, ragged and uneven. Brad collapsed half on top of her, pressing a kiss to the sweat-damp skin between her shoulder blades.
Ashley exhaled, boneless. “I should’ve done this years ago.”
Brad chuckled, rolling onto his back beside her. “Better late than never.”
She turned her head to look at him, tracing the sharp line of his jaw with her fingers. The sunlight gilded his skin, turning him golden.
For the first time in years, she didn’t overthink it. She just let herself want.
Brad caught her wrist, pressing a kiss to her palm. “What’s that look for?”
Ashley smiled. “Just wondering how long until round three.”
His grin was slow, wicked. “Give me five minutes.”
The shower spray hit Ashley's shoulders like liquid fire, steam curling around them as Brad's hands slid down her soap-slick back. She arched into his touch, water sluicing between her breasts as his thumbs dug into the knots along her spine. "Fuck, your hands," she sighed, head tipping back against his chest.
Brad chuckled against her wet hair, the vibration rumbling through her. "Told you I'd be ready." His erection pressed against the small of her back, hard even now.
She turned under the water, facing him, letting the heat pound against her shoulders as she raked her nails down his chest. His abs tensed under her touch, water beading on the ridges of muscle.
"You're staring," she said, smirking as his gaze dragged from her throat to the curve of her hips.
"Can't fucking help it." His voice was rough, hands settling on her waist like he was memorizing the shape of her. "Been imagining this for years."
Ashley bit her lip, then reached past him to turn the water hotter. Steam billowed between them, clinging to their skin. The air was thick with the scent of her shampoo, something floral and sweet, mixing with the salt-tang of last night still on their bodies.
Brad's fingers traced the water swirling down her stomach, lower, until his fingertips grazed the thatch of curls between her thighs. "Still sore?"
She exhaled sharply. "Try me."
He grinned, wicked, and dropped to his knees in the shower, hands spreading her thighs before his mouth closed over her.
Ashley gasped, fingers scrabbling at the tile as his tongue worked her open, slow and filthy. Water cascaded over them both, dripping from his hair as he looked up at her through his lashes—watching, always watching her reactions.
"Christ—Brad—" Her hips jerked forward, seeking more pressure, but he held her still, dragging his tongue in broad, wet strokes until her thighs trembled.
When he finally stood, water sluicing down his chest, she reached between them and wrapped her fingers around him, squeezing just shy of too tight. His breath hitched, hips bucking into her grip.
"Fuck, Ash—"
She stroked him slowly, thumb swiping over the head, spreading the slick already beading there. "How bad do you want this?"
His laugh was ragged. "You're killing me."
Ashley released him abruptly, turning to brace her hands against the shower wall. "Then take it."
Brad didn't hesitate. He gripped her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and drove into her with one brutal thrust. The sound she made was half-groan, half-sob, echoing off the tiles.
He set a relentless pace, each snap of his hips pushing her forward, water slapping against their skin. Steam fogged the glass, the room shrinking to just the two of them, the slap of flesh, the ragged sounds torn from their throats.
"Look at you," Brad rasped, one hand fisting in her hair, pulling just enough to make her whimper. "Taking me so fucking good—"
Ashley clenched around him, pleasure coiling tight. "Harder."
He obliged, slamming into her with enough force to make her knees buckle. The tile was cold against her cheek, but she barely felt it—not with the heat of him, the way he filled her, stretched her, owned her.
When she came, it ripped through her like lightning, muscles clamping down on him in waves. Brad followed with a groan, hips stuttering as he spilled deep inside her.
For a moment, neither of them moved, just breathing in the steam-thick air.
Then Ashley turned, water sluicing down her body as she reached for his phone on the sink ledge. "Take them."
Brad blinked, water dripping from his lashes. "What?"
She arched her back, letting the water highlight every curve, every dip of muscle. "Pictures. Videos. Whatever you want."
His throat worked as he took the phone, thumb hovering over the camera. "You sure?"
Ashley smirked, running a hand down her stomach, lower, until her fingers brushed her own slick heat. "I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t."
The shutter clicked.