His body was on fire beneath me. Not in a poetic way, but in the real, skin-to-skin heat that made me feel like I was going to melt into him. I gritted my teeth, a sharp curse slipping out under my breath as my fingers dug into his hips. I didn't mean to hold him that tight, but it felt like the only way to stop myself from falling apart.
Asher was too warm —almost impossibly so. His body met mine with every movement, pulling me in deeper, like it didn't want to let go. Every shift of his hips, every soft arch of his back— it was maddening. I thought that break earlier might cool me down, give me a second to breathe. It didn't. If anything, it made the need worse. He was too much. Too tight. Too everything.
