“Fuck you,” he groans, his body solid and unmoving under mine.
Feeling wicked and self-damaging, I lift my right leg up and wrap it around his right leg, opening myself up even more. I press up against his firm ass, letting him feel my wet pussy and he curses my name, slowing down his pumping.
Ace can hardly go a day without having me at least twice. And I’m the bitch who’s so horny and so greedy, I feel empty and oddly dejected when he doesn’t take me at all.
We’re dysfunctional, greedy with each other, and so fucking twisted up that what happens next is hardly a surprise to either of us.
I reach up for my lavender scented body wash, and then squirt some into the palm of my hand.
“Don’t fuck me with your scented shit,” he whispers harshly. It stings, but I want him to be stung just as much.
“It’s not for you, jerk.”
I don’t move, my body firmly plastered to his. I form a lather and start running my palms all over my body—well, the parts I can reach without moving away from him.
I do my best to ignore the pounding of my heart that I’m sure he can feel, beating in sync with the sound of rushing water. It sounds like we’re in a rainforest, which was one of the things that had Ace sold on the place.
With my body lathered, I start rubbing myself with more intent on Ace’s back and he groans again, his back muscles flexing. I strain to get closer to him. On days like these, I wish I was interwoven with him, a part of him, that we’ll never be apart, that he’ll never be able to get rid of me or try to leave me as I fear is the case.
When I look down, it’s then that I notice he’s holding my right leg, running his firm, calloused hand from my toes up to my knee, sensually.
“Are you going to fuck me to get it out of your system, Ace?” I whisper, drunk with lust and a bit of anguish I can’t hide.
The other shoe does drop… Even now, I can hear what Kim said before. “Fairytales have expiration dates. Ask that bitch, Cinderella. Seriously, in that entire village, no one has the same shoe size?”
“Astraea…”
“That anger, Ace, you’re so angry with me for leaving, you don’t know how damaged I was on the inside. I was half-dead and the other half of me was broken and rotting, I couldn’t give you anything,” I whisper brokenly. “Are you going to punish me for that?”
“Punish you?” he groans. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
With my hand on his cock, I dislodge his firm grip, pushing his hand away. He surrenders without a fight, a groan escaping him when I grip him tight. One hand doesn’t really do it, but I’m working with what I have.
I rub my hard nipples up and down his back, enjoying his strained groans. Hot spurts of pre-cum spill into my hand, covering the head. I swipe at it with my thumb, gripping the head tight and he shudders.
I smile against the dip of his right shoulder, but it’s sinister, wicked, mirroring what I feel inside.
“Don’t I?” I whisper, my insides knotting up painfully. “After all those years of hating me, despising the very life in me, tell me, Ace, do you still hate me?”
“Astraea…”
“When you look into my eyes, does that loathing that’s been in you from the day you were born still burn when you see me? Does it take over until you can’t stand to be in the same room as me? Turning away from me?” Like you just did in that office?
I can’t help the barely restrained anguish in my chest that’s making it hard to breathe or the traces of dark whispers filtering in my head, reminding me of what his hatred felt like. But I want to know. “Do you look into my eyes and regret loving me, Ace?”
Even as I say all that shit, tears well up in my eyes.
Ignoring the riot in me, I start pumping him even faster, holding his cock firmly in my hand. He’s so big and thick, my fingers are no match to wrap around him, but I can try my best.
“Damn it, Astraea, watch your mouth.”
Still Astraea, not Star.
“Tell me, do I still remind you of a monster?” I whisper in his ear, still feeling sinister, still rubbing myself on his back, widening my legs, letting him feel my wet, throbbing pussy. “Does this, me rubbing my slick, wet pussy on your firm ass like this, with the kind of eyes I have, does this remind you of someone else? Do I still remind you of some—”
Before I can finish that, he flips around so fast, my breath catches.
He has me pinned against the wall in a heartbeat.
One of the jets is right in the middle of my back causing hot water to hit my back with force, but even that does nothing to warm me up.
“So, this is what you do, huh?” he growls in my face, his blue eyes hard and cold like crystals or maybe ice… yes, that’s more fitting for the chill that has settled in the pit of my stomach. “Reduce yourself so low to that asshole, that monster?”
“Well, if the shoe fits,” I croak, breathless.
To my horror I realize that I’m crying.
“Fuck my fucking life!” Ace roars and the next thing I know, he has me up and in his arms, but still plastered on the wall. “What the fuck, Astraea?” he growls, holding my chin between his thumb and forefinger, his piercing gaze seeing through me. “What the fuck is happening right now? And why the fuck are you making yourself cry?”
It’s no secret that Ace hates it when I cry. Like he loathes it to a point of disaster no one can really control.
“It’s you!” I cry, my body writhing under his. “Let me go.”
I start pounding his chest, wanting some space, but by now I should know better. Whatever Ace wants, he gets.
“What. The. Fuck?” he reels back. “You came after me. I didn’t call you here. I didn’t fuck you up in your head and make you cry!”
“But you did, damn you!”
“How?” he demands, angrily. “How the fuck did we get here? Awakening horrors and shit?”
His piercing, cold gaze slices into me until I start trembling. How do I explain? How do I tell him?
“This isn’t about Noah or Emmett or anyone else, is it, Astraea?” he grits out, watching me, but I can’t hold his gaze. Looking away is not an option, so I close my eyes.
A growl, so sinister and so low, it makes shivers race down my spine reaches my ears almost immediately. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
Stubbornly, I refuse to open my eyes, feeling the tears race down my cheeks.
“Open them,” he growls, his voice dangerously close to letting the anger spill, the devil within raring to go. “Open your fucking eyes, Astraea or I swear to God…”
It’s as if we’re playing a game.
A game in which we’re counting, organizing ultimatums and consequences so dire, who will tap out?
But this isn’t a game, it’s more devastating than that.
Counting down from ten, I open my eyes at two, looking straight into his icy gaze, his hard, solid body holding mine up. More tears spill from my eyes, trailing down with the running water as the chill in me grows bolder, colder, paralyzing me.
“This isn’t about Noah. This is about you!” I croak, my voice sounding above the torrent of rushing water. “You did this!”
He reels back just a bit, his eyes narrowing.
“What the fuck did I do, Astraea?” he questions, his voice raspy and low, his eyes peering into mine, but I refuse to say a word. “Speak. Let it out, damn you.”
Not so gently, he plunges two fingers into me to the hilt, hitting my sweet spot without hesitation. I gasp, eyes wide, suspended in time and pleasure.
Before I can adjust, he starts pumping me, fast and hard. It’s too much, too fast. I’m biting back my moans.
“Talk, baby,” he purrs darkly. Without waiting for a response, he leans down and bites my left nipple and I scream from the sharp pain mixed with pleasure he’s strumming between my legs. “You’ve been vocal until now. Where’s your fucking voice, huh?”
It’s gone.
I can’t talk, can’t
make sense of where my torment and my bliss are coming from.
I have no idea what got into me to say all that shit, hinting at a past so dark, it’s hard for us to even talk about even now.
“Ace,” I moan, but that seems to spur his anger even more.
“Tell me, Astraea, are you trying to dictate my feelings from your high horse?” he questions, as he adds another finger in me. I’m so full and ready to fall over the edge but he keeps me there, denying me the gratification I’m craving. “Is this what you’ve been dreaming of when you wake up screaming? How to fuck me up? How to hurt me? How to fucking shatter me over and over again knowing damn well that I’ll still crawl into your arms every single time because you’re it for me?”
“No!” I cry. “I could never hurt you! Not ever!”
“Then what the fuck is it?” he sneers, frustrated, hella pissed, and horny. But how do I tell him that it’s everything?
That it’s my past.
It’s me.
It’s my insecurities… but I can’t tell him that.
I can’t tell him how I’ve been feeling since this holiday season started, I just can’t.
A low growl sounds above the rushing water and the next thing I know, his fingers are out of me, then he brings all three to my lips, daring me.
Without a thought, my mouth drops open, sucking each finger in, tasting my own arousal, mixed with my tears. It’s crazy.
Ace doesn’t let me suck his fingers for long. He adjusts, aligning our bodies then… he stares deep into my eyes, shattering my fucked up soul with just a look, a silent command flashing in his icy gaze, daring me to defy him by looking away.
Holding his gaze, he thrusts in deep in me. I scream and he groans in my ear.
“Tell me,” he whispers darkly in my ear. I pull him to me, hugging him to me, clinging to him, wanting to be so close to him as he pounds into me.
I meet him thrust for thrust, pulling at his hair, trying to inflict as much pain as he’s doling out on my body.
“It’s nothing,” I moan.
He pulls back, holding me now by my hips, thrusting deep, screwing me so deliciously my toes curl as arrows of sharp arousal move through my body.
“I hate it when you cry,” he growls, his eyes flashing like blue icy crystals burning in a fire.
A hard thrust.
“I hate it when you fucking lie to me.”
Another hard thrust that makes me scream.
“I fucking hate it when you can’t fucking talk to me.”
Oh God… the anguish in his voice, it was never my intention to cause him pain with how fucked up I am.
“What the fuck did I do to fuck your twisted-up mind, huh?” he growls, fucking me hard, but still, I can’t speak. “I give you everything, Astraea. I give you all my attention. I give you all my time. I’m fucking trying to give you the world. I gave you my heart when we were kids and here you are, stomping on it, breaking it, casting it away. Is a broken asshole like me not enough for you after all this time, Astraea?”
Oh God, no. never!
“No, Ace, that’s not…” I cry, but he thrusts deeper, hitting my sweet spot over and over, holding me in such a way that all I can do is take it.
“What the fuck is it then? You want to leave me?” What? “Because I’d rather die than let you go.” I want to say something but I can’t but when I look into his eyes, it’s right there. The raw, uncut truth of his promise. “I told you you’re mine and no one else will ever have you!”
Jesus.
I can’t make a sound other than the moans, the pants, and the screams. I’m ready to combust but he’s not getting me there… not until I talk.
“If you think you can just walk away from this, walk away from me, you’re pathetically mistaken,” he says harshly, his large hard body dominating me, arousing me even more. “You belong to me.”
He wraps a hand around my throat. He doesn’t squeeze, but I feel it, the threat that only drives me wild with ecstasy.
Ace is no stranger to tempering my pleasure with pain, but this… the anger, the turmoil, the threatening darkness in him, we haven’t been like this since we were back in Westbrook Blues.
“No one but me, Astraea,” he growls, with each terse word thrusting deeper in me. “Even if I’m an asshole. Even if you’re tired of me. Even if I drive you crazy with my darkness and possession, you’re mine.”
Ace is so alpha, possessive, and so damn virile, so hot and sexy that everything about him makes me want to come undone just by thinking of him.
“Yes, yours,” I moan.
“Every inch of you. Every thought you have is mine. There are no secrets between you and me, tell me you know that.”
I know that but admitting it would be pouring out my shame to him when he already thinks I want to hurt him. He might be bitter with me and doesn’t know it. I can’t take that step.
My silence only aggravates him. Leaning down, he presses his forehead to mine. “Don’t try me, baby. I give you all of me, but I’ll never let you go. Even if that’s what you want, you can hate me to death, to hell and back, baby, but I’ll never let you leave.”
He means it. He really does mean every word, like a dark vow.
A smarter girl would run, chased by the shadows in his eyes of the cruelty in his touch, but when it comes to Ace, I don’t know any better than him.
He’s all I want. He’s all I’ve ever needed, even in the throes of depression, he’s all that matters to me.
I don’t know what that says about me, loving someone with his darkness, but our demons know each other, they’re the same and they love each other in spite of it all.
“Yes.” I wrap my legs around him, wanting him deeper, needing the connection now more than ever.
“Never, Astraea, not even when this world ends in fire, I’ll never let you go.”
Something like hope and triumph blooms in my chest but I tame it down, still not sure.
“Now fucking tell me!”
I clam up.
How do I explain the dark, foggy clouds of trauma in my mind?
“It’s nothing,” I moan, wanting him to let it go. Acting like I’m fine. But I should know better than to lie to someone who sees my soul more clearly than I could ever.
“Fuck you,” he seethes, tightening his hold around my throat. “If you’re going to use this mouth to kiss me and lie to me at the same time, baby, do it better.”
I clench down on his cock and he curses.
“Please,” I whisper, clenching again. “Let it go.”
“Damn you.”
He thrusts deep and hard, at the same time twisting my nipple, bringing me to heights of pleasure so intense and so shaky, I don’t think I can last long.
“You,” I pant. “You drive me crazy.”
“Liar,” he says in a silky growl that makes my insides sing. He leans in and whispers darkly in my ear, “You’re already crazy.”
I whimper, a cry lodged in my chest but that too, he swallows when he swoops down and kisses me.
He kisses me like he’s fucking me. Deep, long, relentless, and so damn sensual like a vigorous dance where he’s the choreographer and I’m his favorite willing puppet, desperate to please him.
“You’re crazy, baby,” he groans darkly, then he bites my neck before pressing open-mouthed kisses, soothing the abused and marked skin. “And I’m out of my fucking mind, but you, Star, you’re mine!”
I moan, feeling like my heart just shattered in my chest.
“Ace, please…”
“Whatever’s gotten into you, whatever’s eating at you,” he whispers with a dark purr that sinks into my soul, “it’s fucking nothing! You’re safe. You’re with me forever. We’ll never be apart because you’re fucking mine. You know that, don’t you?” He’s hitting my sweet spot repeatedly, over and over again, but still, I can’t come. “Don’t you?”
I know he wants an answer. Demanding it, really, but still, I can’t speak. Tears run down
my cheeks but still, my hips move restlessly, racing for something only he can reward me with.
But the longer I withhold my response, the more his thrusts became cruel, delicious, a torture technique that he knows drives me insane with need.
“Ace, please.”
“So, you can speak, huh?”
Oh God. It’s like there’s a dark, angry cloud hovering over us and the only way we can get past this is by weathering the storm.
“Ace…”
“Say it,” he growls.
“No.”
“Tell me,” he demands, his fingers flexing on my hips, thrusting deeper in me. Another scream tears out of me. I’m teetering on the ragged edge of a hard orgasm that I’m desperate for.
He tortures me, plays me, strums me along like a flute.
I try to keep up, riding him as fast and as hard as I can, but the storm brewing in me, the inferno he’s creating, feeding it with his dark stare, his wicked kisses and the intent of forcing the truth out of me, I can’t help but cry even more.
“It’s nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Please, Ace, I just want…”
I can’t say it.
“You want to come, huh?” I’m right there and he knows it, but the cruelty in him won’t let him give me what I want without giving him what he wants.
“Yes, Ace, please,” I cry. I’m not above begging, not when I’m so hot for it like this.
“Tell me, baby.” With one arm wrapped around my waist, his other hand slides down to where we’re joined, rubbing against my clit, then I feel his fingers moving to my other opening. I gasp as he pushes one finger in me, overwhelming me, pushing me to where he wants me to be. “Say it.”
“Ace.”
“You come in here with your hot, greedy pussy rubbing against my ass, then you have the audacity to bring up that shit after weeks of shutting me out, tell me why!”
Oh God, what was I thinking? But I’m too overwhelmed to think clearly, too undone to keep a tight lid on the mess that is my mind as he screws me, his finger pushing in my anus, touching the thin membrane wall between my ass and pussy where he’s in deep.
“Tell me.”
I’m about to come. It’s right there but just as quickly, he lets me slide back down. I can’t take it anymore.
Frosty Blues: A Westbrook Blues Novella Page 4