Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother novel Chapter 253

Chapter 253: Asher

We stay there in silence.

Her fingers trail idle circles across my ribs, feather–light, like she’s drawing a map only she can read. My hand stays splayed across her hip, the dip of her waist fitting against my palm like it was carved just for me. The towel is still loosely tucked around her, but it’s slipping–just barely–and I don’t dare adjust it. I don’t want to break the spell.

1 shift slightly, propping myself up on one elbow so I can see her face. Her eyes are closed, lashes damp and curling from the steam, lips parted slightly. Her body’s warm against mine, flushed from the shower, and I can still feel droplets of water cooling along her collarbone.

“Hey,” I say softly, brushing a strand of wet hair off her cheek.

She hums, eyes fluttering open. “Hmm?”

“You know you’re making this very hard for me, right?”

Her brows lift, just a little. “How so?”

I tilt my head. “Towel. Skin. You. Me. Bed.”

She grins slowly, teasing. “Should I be concerned for your self–control?”

“Deeply.”

She snorts and reaches up, thumb brushing along my jaw. “You’re doing fine.”

Am I?

Because I’m about three seconds away from pulling her on top of me and ruining both of us for the rest of

the night.

Instead, I exhale, lean in, and press a kiss to her bare shoulder. Soft. Measured. But it lingers. My lips drag slightly across her skin, up toward her neck, and she tilts her chin without a word, letting me taste the

heat of her there.

–

She breathes out slow, and I feel it that shift. That weightless, aching stillness that hums between us like

electricity.

“You drive me insane,” I murmur against her throat.

“I try,” she whispers back.

Her towel slides a little lower as she moves, and I catch the top just in time. My thumb brushes the edge of the fabric, then slips underneath – just enough to feel the softness of her bare shoulder, the curve of her

collarbone.

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Chapter 253: Asher

Not enough.

Too much.

She shifts again, this time rolling slightly onto her side, her leg curling over mine. Her towel rides up along her thigh, and suddenly there’s a lot more skin pressed against me.

She looks up at me through her lashes. “Still doing fine?”

I stare at her.

Then, without a word, I flip us.

She gasps, laughing as her back hits the mattress and I hover over her, bracing myself with one hand planted beside her head.

I press my forehead to hers.

“You want honest?” I whisper.

She nods, breathless.

“I’m not doing fine. I’m barely holding it together.”

She grins. “Good.”

Then she curls her fingers into my shirt, pulling me down until our mouths are brushing -not kissing, just close enough to steal breath.

“I don’t want you to hold it together,” she says, voice low.

–

I groan softly and kiss her deep, slow, claiming. My hand cradles her jaw, the other slipping down to her waist. She arches into me, towel barely clinging to her body now, and I feel the burn of every place our skin

touches.

But I don’t rush it.

I savor her.

–

Because this this is the part I’ll never get used to. The fact that I’m allowed to hold her like this. That

she trusts me with her body, her heart, her everything.

The girl who once flinched when people got too close now melts for me like I’m safety itself.

I kiss her again, slower this time, like I have all the time in the world.

Because with her?

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Chapter 253: Asher

I do.

1 kiss her deeper, and she parts her lips for me instantly, letting me in like there’s no part of her I’m not allowed to have. Her hands slip under my shirt flat palms dragging up my stomach, slow, like she’s relearning the shape of me. She’s not gentle, not shy. Not anymore.

She knows what she does to me.

And maybe that’s what wrecks me most.

Her towel shifts again, sliding beneath her as I move over her, and I feel it – the heat of her bare skin. against my chest, the soft press of her thighs framing my hips. She pulls me closer with her legs, just a little, enough that I can feel the sharp rush of her breath as our bodies line up.

“Tell me to stop,” I murmur, my voice rough with restraint, mouth brushing the corner of hers.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she tips her head back, baring her throat to me like a prayer. “Don’t even think about it.”

Fuck.

My mouth finds the hollow of her throat, then lower – tasting along the ridge of her collarbone, teeth grazing gently. She arches beneath me, her fingers fisting in my shirt, and I groan low, letting myself sink just a little further into her warmth.

She whispers my name barely audible, but it shoots straight through me.

–

My hands roam now, slow and reverent, sliding over the curve of her waist, the dip of her stomach. I’m still half–dressed, still trying to pretend I have an ounce of control, but that illusion’s crumbling fast. Especially when she rolls her hips up into mine with the tiniest sound that little catch in her breath she knows

drives me mad.

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