"Oooooh I, I shouldn't like it when you do that, why do I like it so much when you do that, fuck..." She wiggles again, smiling dreamily.

"My guess," he says, "is that you're a submissive." He punctuates this point by tightening his hand on her wrist hard enough to hurt.

"Ah—fuck—" She is sooooo melty and now she is also EVEN HORNIER. "—good guess—"

She has tried kinky stuff before and it has never felt this good but she suspects that is because she was trying it with people she didn't actually like or want to be having sex with and was paying as little attention to as possible. Probably this makes her a terrible person or something. But why would she be thinking about that when she could instead be thinking about Asher being on top of her and holding her down and, and, has she mentioned recently how good he is because it's a LOT. The amount of goodness is so much.

And now his dick is inside her so maybe it will be even harder to think about how she's a terrible person.

A sharp hissing gasp, and then a long, quiet moan. Oh this is so good. This is the best thing that has ever happened. He's so good so good so good and he's on her and in her and, and he's so warm and heavy and solid and real and safe and she just wants him to hold her down and fuck her senseless and then cuddle her possibly forever.

He lifts her up and he's standing and her legs are wrapped around his waist again except this time he's inside her and fucking her onto his dick. 

She clings to him, moaning incoherently. It kind of hurts but in the really good way, like when he squeezed her wrist, or like the jolt when the arc reactor clicks into place. He is so good and he can do whatever he wants with her and the things he wants to do with her are such good things.

"You're so beautiful," he says, "I love feeling you."

Oh, yes, words, are a thing, and she could use them, to tell him how good he is.

"Fuck," she says breathlessly.

Okay, specificity and eloquence need some work here, but top marks for sincerity.

Asher pins her to the bed again, his hands around her wrists tight enough to hurt, fucking her hard and fast and deep.

And we're back to incoherent moaning.

It's so good, so incredibly good, she feels like she's—melting, burning, breaking, falling apart—is she coming, she can't even tell, this doesn't feel like any orgasm she's ever had in her life, it feels like being hit by a train in the best possible way—

"You're gorgeous." He bites her neck and keeps fucking her. 

She whimpers.

She really really really wants to tell him how amazing he is, but she absolutely does not in any way have the capacity to say any words right now. Hopefully he will get the picture just from all the eager squirming and incoherent noises.

He's getting the picture! It is a very hot picture. He would definitely save this metaphorical picture to his porn collection.

That is GOOD because he is GREAT and should have ALL THE NICE THINGS, and also Tanya. He should have all the Tanya he wants.

She tries again to tell him how good he is, and again only succeeds in whimpering an unintelligible jumble of distorted phonemes. There might be a 'fuck' in there.

If he pins down both of her hands with one hand, he has another hand free to pull her hair.

—oh that is just not fair, this situation was already at maximum hotness and then he had to go and make it even hotter? Fuck!

He reaches down, pinches her nipple, digs his fingers into her breasts.

"Ahhhh fuck," oh, there, words, she did words, let's see if she can build on this success, "you're, so good, fuck..."

"I am," he says agreeably.

What does she think of a hand on her throat?

She—

—cannot in fact decide whether that is extremely terrifying or extremely hot. Possibly both. Yeah it's both.

"I've got you," Asher says into her ear, "you're safe with me."

—fuck.

"I love you," she gasps, because there is just—there is no other way to express the feeling she's having right now, he's so incredibly good and she trusts him and she wants him and he's holding her down and fucking her and it's even better than she thought it would be and she was pretty sure it was going to max out the theoretical hotness potential of sex.

"I love you too," he says, and starts making little gaspy whimpery noises near her ear. He's getting close.

Good. That's just—that's perfect. This is perfect. And as soon as she thinks that she knows he's going to somehow find a way to make it even better but she cannot for the life of her imagine how because this is perfect.