Despite losing my mind from the agonizingly slow tugs, I glanced at our audience. Dean watched every move as he bit his lower lip.

“Not a chance.” Dean shook his head. “You’re too green. Deep-throating is a skill learned.”

Asher kept his eyes on them and lowered his head, giving my tip a languid lick where they could see it all. He circled my cock again, wetting it thoroughly and drawing another moan from my throat.

“Watch what a little practice has done for me, Dean. I think even you’ll be impressed.”

Asher returned his focus to the task at hand and sucked me down his throat all the way to the root. The fucker was showing off—not that I cared one iota because holy hot damn!

Once he had me all the way in, and I did everything in my power not to thrust deeper, he tightened his throat muscles, squeezing me like some kind of dick sucking professional.

So much for self-control. My hips jerked of their own free will, and I grabbed a fist full of Asher’s hair, shoving him down harder as I arched off the bed—even when there wasn’t any more of me to swallow.

He choked and battled it out but came up sputtering and coughing, eyes watering. Wrenching my fingers free from his hair, he climbed up my body, where he took both my wrists and pinned them over my head. “You’re trouble. I was doing it too. I had you all the way in my throat, and you had to go be a little asshole, didn’t you?”

“You’re killing me. It was so fucking good. I didn’t mean to thrust.”

“I’m gonna try again, and you’re gonna keep those hips still. Got it?”

I nodded, arching my hips up and seeking friction. Need pulsed through me. “Please. I promise I’ll behave.”

“Good.”

Asher licked his lips and kissed me once with bruising force before starting again. He sucked me down little by little that time, inch by inch. Once he had me lodged deep down in his throat, he did that damn muscle thing again. I fisted the bedsheets, crying out and keeping my hips still like my life depended on it. It was so damn good, and I was sure I was gonna blow my load if he kept it up. Dean must have seen it too.

“Enough. Let him fuck your throat, Asher. Give him back the control. You proved your point, but he’s too close,” Dean said. “You suck a mean cock. I’m impressed.”

Asher, the idiot, gave Dean a thumbs up and pulled off, gulping air. “Who’s the motherfucking pro? Me, that’s who. Is that what you want, Atti?” he asked me. “To fuck my throat?”

“Yes. So badly.”