Our Muted Recklessness (Muted Hopelessness Book 2)

by Love Belvin

  When Ashton rounded the sofa, I stood to my feet. He wore lounge pants and a black tank. Again, amusement danced on his face as he stood toe to toe with me. He leaned in and kissed me, too gentle for my preference, but I was too damn scared to voice anything. His tall frame, glistening brown skin, and fresh scent muted me. I was used to being muted, but in this case, I didn’t think it was smart to. Ashton was specific, exact. He wanted me to be that way, too.

  “Can I have you?” The crease between his thick brows confirmed his seriousness.

  I nodded, eyes closing helplessly as I moved in to kiss him again. Ashton cupped my face and our tongues twirled the way he’d taught me. Electrical pulses lit all over my body, and my knees weakened like a fucking punk. I had to stay strong, not wanting to embarrass myself in front of…him.

  I willed my shaky hands to his waist, finding the hem of his tank and pushing beneath. His abs contracted at my touch, and a heavy breath pushed from his mouth to mine. My eyes burst open to find his closed tightly.

  He lowered his forehead to meet mine. “I’m sorry,” Ashton whispered so softly. “Your touch is new to me.” He swallowed, eyes still closed. “And it’s something I’ve been wanting for so long, it feels electrical. Go ahead.”

  Electrical…

  My hands met his skin again, and oh my god, his six-pack was deep and hard. There were fine hairs on his belly, and imagining what they looked like scared me. Ashton wasn’t…mine. This was a rented opportunity. My palms reached to the knots of his chest, brushing past hard nipples. My left hand stopped at the feel of his pounding heart.

  “Ashton…”

  “If you want to stop, I won’t be mad.”

  I rolled my eyes and whispered, “Please stop saying that.” I leaned into him, dangerously comfortable with his heat. “The wine isn’t even in my system now.”

  “Because it shouldn’t be,” his words dripped softly, eyes closed. We stood frozen, my hands just on him. Out of nowhere, Ashton snorted, a smile forming on his face. “I’m so fuckin’ nervous.”

  Before I could ask him why, he took me at the waist, lifting me into the air. My legs wrapped around his waist, one slipper falling to the floor. I couldn’t care; Ashton’s mouth was on my neck, my spine arching in a strange way. I could hardly breathe.

  He lowered me, making me open my eyes. We were in the bedroom. Ashton stood at the foot, between my legs. His fingers crawled to my waist and pulled my biker shorts down, pulling them from around my ankles. My heart beat louder than the music flowing just behind him in the living room. Next was my shirt to come off, then my bra. For seconds long, Ashton stood there just staring at me. The tent in his pants was the only indication of his mood I could pick up.

  I bit my lip, willing my thighs not to close from embarrassment. “Your clothes are still on,” I whispered.

  “Are you ashamed of this?” he asked casually, plucking my nipple.

  He used the same fingers to stroke all the way down my body, swiping my clit. My abs jumped that time.

  I bit my lip again, swinging my head to the side and closing my eyes. Was I ashamed of my body? Being overdeveloped as a kid and the tallest, hell yeah I was ashamed. Having grown men and women fuck me with their eyes and imagination for years had me hating my body. It made me visible too soon.

  “Don’t do that, Tori,” he snapped, voice thick. “Don’t turn away as though I’m the only one to enjoy this.” He grabbed my hips at the side.

  When he had my attention again, he lowered himself to his knees and put his mouth on me. In no time, my belly heated, hips lurching uncontrollably. It wasn’t an orgasm; it was his touch. His tongue was firm and slithery, roaming in places I’d never seen down there.

  “You’re wet already,” he murmured. “Taste so fuckin’ good.” Then his lips were on me, kissing.

  His tongue swiping then pumping inside of me. My belly coiled and vibrated. Now that I knew what coming felt like, I could tell when it was about to happen. When his hands reached up to massage my tits then stroked my hard nipples, my hands slapped over my eyes and I fought back a moan. Nothing else in this world felt as good as what Ashton did to me—other than winning in the ring. Nothing topped that.

  But this…

  His hand yanked my arm down, my palm leaving my face. He placed it on his head. Shit. It was carpet-thick and silky at the same time. This touch seemed too intimate, too much control it gave me. When I looked down my rolling body, I found his eyes on me as his mouth shot me into orbit. I came hard. The embarrassment from the moan that slipped had me closing my eyes again, my head rolling back, my body rolled back until I saw the headboard.

  And Ashton licked and licked until that sweet timing for him to stop. My frame was yanked back into place and he was over my body, in my mouth. He kissed me hard, sharing what he called heaven. It was the scent and taste I was beginning to get used to. My nipples brushed against his chest and I reached for him with unsteady hands. We kissed until I was breathless, dizzy with wanting him again.

  He lifted from me, standing between my legs again. “Pull down my pants.” I didn’t hesitate to sit up, body wobbling. Pulling down his pants terrified me. It was weird how I wanted this so bad, but each step scared me. The sight of his dick was becoming familiar to me now, which helped. My eyes couldn’t leave it as he kicked the pants from around his feet. “No,” he groaned. “I want inside you too fuckin’ bad. Lay back.”

  A whisper of insecurity questioned if he didn’t like when I sucked him off. But I didn’t have time for that.

  He pulled me closer to the end of the mattress. To him. His eyes were heavy as he reached down and rubbed my clit over and over to a build. His dick was hard, curled like a banana up to his belly. He wiped my pussy with the head of it and again, the pleasure of it all forced my eyes closed. He rubbed with his thumb and pushed inside with his veiny thickness. And the pain. Fuck. It was like a rock blocking him from getting inside of me.

  “You have to relax, KaToria,” his voice no more than a soothing hush. “I’ll let you cover your face, but you have to breathe, baby.”

  A gush of air left my mouth, and I tried relaxing my thighs. My clit was so sensitive and I could feel inside my pussy swelling. Could feel each centimeter he slipped inside.

  “You ever fantasize about this?” His voice thick and lazy, his face hard as stone. “You ever find yourself wondering what having my dick inside you would look like?” I swallowed thickly, embarrassingly turned on by his arrogance. I could feel my titties bouncing and, for the first time, was not disturbed by it. “I did. The first time was when the Panthers saw you working out for your trainers, and you had on that flimsy ass sports bra. I imagined my cock between your juicy tits, being hugged, massaged, then drained by them. He squeezed my left nipple, making me squeal from the ache.

  His hips moving slow and steadily, the pain and the pleasure made me feel light in the head, but I pushed through.

  “You fantasize…” I panted. “…about dogs...Spence?”

  For a second, his thrusts and rub game lost sequence. Then he grounded out, “I was a miserable son-of-a-bitch the first day I did that. I lashed out at you.” The pleasure grew deep in my belly. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry for that, Nabby-girl.” The moan in his voice tipped me over.

  I came hard, rocking my hips toward him, slamming into pain. But this pain was different. This pain…I liked. A lot. My head spun as his hands whipped to each side of me, and I bit my lip with a force that could pierce it.

  “Almost in there, baby,” he whispered, eyes heavy.

  As I came down from the second orgasm, I felt fuller. The ache deeper. Why did I like this pain? Why did I feel I needed to be angry to endure it? Why did it annoy me that he was holding back on what we knew would happen?

  I panted, “I’ve fantasized about you.” I swallowed thickly. “This.”

  His eyes lit with excitement, lips broke apart. “When?” He stroked his hips.

  I thought I’d never share this wit
h anyone, much less him. Licking my lips, I answered, “When I saw you kissing her at the pizzeria.” It was more than that time, but I’d given him enough.

  “You like watching, Nabby-girl?”

  I didn’t understand his question. I liked watching him. In some twisted way, I fantasized about being Aivery—but being me. I guessed it was my way of wishing I could be that close to him. This close.

  Ashton thumbing me had my eyes burst wide. I was still so sensitive there.

  “The second time was one night in one of your training sessions,” he groaned, going deeper inside of me. “You knocked the Latesha chick out, and demanded they give you Reggie Laws to spar with.” Oh, shit! He was there. I wasn’t crazy. Someone had called his name that night. “You’re so strong, dominating. I wanted to see how tamed you’d be with my dick inside of you.”

  His confidence—in his thoughts and ability to share them with me—made my titties tingle. I could feel myself softening around him. But it wasn’t enough. Ashton still wasn’t all the way inside me. That shit frustrated me.

  “Ashton!” I wheezed.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m not Aivery.”

  His hips stopped. Hands, too. Ashton blinked, eyes coming out of their lazy tightness. “What was that?”

  I swallowed, shaking the irritation hazing my brain. “Just do it. I’m not fragile, girlie. I’m not going to break. Just get all the way in.”

  “You’re tight as hell. I’m trying not to hurt you more than what’s…natural.” One of his eyebrows higher than the other.

  “I’ve never heard of anyone dying, losing their virginity.” My face was tight. “You?”

  “I’m not trying to traumatize you, Tori.”

  “You can’t. You’re not capable of hurting me even if you tried to. Like ever.” Frustration brewed in my belly. “You’re a big guy—everywhere! Just do it. Do it like you claim you wanted to, to the girl who’d just knocked a bitch out. I want this. I want you to do this. You asked and gave me a gazillion outs. Let’s get it done!”

  Ashton looked at me like I had two damn heads. For seconds long, he didn’t say anything, just studied my face. Then his nostrils widened. He was upset. I didn’t want him mad, I wanted him to be the same bully I met in August. I needed that same energy from him between my legs.

  “Just do it—” Before he could finish the stupid question, I grabbed his face and pulled him down to me for a kiss.

  My lips and tongue worked so hard and angrily, I knew I wasn’t doing it right, but I didn’t care. It felt right. Ashton’s hips moved again. He dipped and the ache awakened again. Then he drove long and swiftly. A flash of fire split me into two. The pain was so bad, white light spots flashed behind my eyelids. I felt pressure deep inside places I didn’t know existed. The shit was worse than period cramps. But I wouldn’t tell him to stop. Besides, in no time, Ashton had a rhythm going. His body curled over mine, hands planted over my head, and chest and abs all moving with each dive. The cords in his neck and the veins on his forehead thickened to lines.

  I was in fucking heaven.

  The stinging, throbbing, and his passion I admired all worked for me. I was strong enough for this. I could take Ashton Spencer. Maybe I responded best to his rough rage. My body opened to him fully, willingly. Something deeper yielded to him.

  “Fuck!” he croaked, reminding me this was sex.

  It was nasty, forbidden. That reminder frightened me a little and turned me on a lot. I was doing it. I was having sex for the first time. I was able to give my body to someone and not feel shame or doubt. Guilt, maybe because of who his heart belonged to. But I couldn’t have chosen a better human. This was beyond sexual identity. As he pounded into me, my mind was free to understand I could have been with a guy or girl, but no one else could make me feel the numbness of my deep insecurities and inner confusion about not knowing who or what I was.

  It was this. With him. And it was freeing. I had been freed.

  This would be addictive, I could tell. I didn’t want it to stop. Didn’t want to feel anything outside of what I felt physically and emotionally right now with him. Alive and safe. His long body lowered, curling more around me. Arms framing around my back, fingers gripping my shoulders, and his curvy chest on mine. I could feel his heart thundering, the cool layer of mist from his hot body. The horsepower from his thighs smacking against my ass turned urgent; his cock grew thicker, it seemed. It damn sure felt like it.

  “Goddamn,” he grunted. “Damn!” That was more alerting.

  Swiftly, he lifted from his arms and his hips pushed back, the weight of his dick relieving my swollen walls. Before I could ask if he was okay, a warm spurt of liquid hit my belly. It wasn’t an action I was unfamiliar with, but because I hadn’t been expecting it, my brain couldn’t catch up to know what it meant. Then came jets of it, some squirts reaching my titty before Ashton dropped his hot body on mine, sandwiching his shooting dick. His body jerked over me and he hummed sweetly with each one.

  Jesus…

  He was smart enough not to come inside of me. Feeling grateful for his quick thinking, I did something human-level weird. I threw my arms around his wide, cut back and hugged him. This was probably a sign of why I wasn’t ready for sex. Of how immature I was. When I agreed to this, I didn’t think of his orgasm, I thought only of me being with him.

  The next few hours happened in a blur. My body was exhausted beyond any training I’d ever done. I didn’t understand it, but I knew this exhaustion was more than physical. Just as Ragee always told me, I overthink things. It was easy for me to. There was no one in my head who could hurt me. It was my safe space. As Ashton left the bed for the bathroom and came back with a warm cloth for what he left on my belly and chest, I felt comatose. When he came back a second time to clean between my legs, I let him without words, allowing him to lift my legs. He even rinsed the soap collected.

  I didn’t speak when he lifted my naked body and lay me in the middle of the bed. He was still naked as he stood on his knees and massaged every body part he could touch. Ashton didn’t speak either. He was muted as he rubbed my feet, legs, and each thigh. The old school music flowed into the bedroom as he turned me over and kneaded my back. He was doing it. Ashton Spencer was touching me—everywhere. Did I like it? I felt none of it, my mind was so gone. And I was grateful. If I could fully perceive him exploring my body, I could have possibly weirded out.

  The numbness created from his animal persona over and inside me hadn’t gone away. Once he was done with my arms, Ashton turned me onto my side facing away from him. He massaged my scalp, pressing deep with his long fingers. He took his time, like he did on my body, his pace unhurried. Lazily, I lay there feeling only from the inside. The kiss on my shoulder was him releasing me to sleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  -THEN-

  Brick was at the door. Head tossed back, eyes in tiny slits, he was laughing at me. It wasn’t my first time seeing him in the hotel suite. The first time was when I was sure Tori had nodded off, I’d gotten up to turn out the lights and stereo, and kill the candles. He was leaning against a wall between the kitchen and living room with one foot hiked behind him, snickering. It was eerie, but not mean-spirited of him, I felt. His humor came at my expense, I just didn’t know why. But this time, his laughter was at a volume that knocked me out of my sleep. The shit fucked me up this time.

  I reached for her before opening my eyes. My arm extended farther in search of her warmth. When I felt none of it, my heavy eyes burst open, and my already accelerated heart rate spiked. My head whipped across the room. Nothing. Just the sun coming up from the sky view window in the living room across the way.

  Oh, shit…

  My torso swung into the air and I glanced over to the bathroom door. The crack beneath the door was pitch black without an inch of movement. Still, I hopped from the bed, taking wide strides over there with my dick flopping in the air and pushed the door open. A strange visual of her being curled up, sca
red, in the tub played in my head. Did I hurt her last night? Did it conjure past traumas?

  “Fuck!” I grumbled, lunging out into the suite.

  The whole damn place was empty. Tori was gone. This was fucked up. It was what I got for listening to her.

  “You can’t. You’re not capable of hurting me even if you tried to. Like ever. You’re a big guy—everywhere! Just do it. Do it like you claim you wanted to, to the girl who’d just knocked a bitch out. I want this. I want you to do this. You asked and gave me a gazillion outs. Let’s get it done!”

  That shit fucked me up and had my dick throbbing so fucking hard for a release, it hurt. Why did I slip up like that? With my hands on my hips, I paced. Who do I call? Her mother was too damn far away. I couldn’t call Trisha Gaskin. Fuck no! She’d skew my ass for laying a finger on Tori, and would turn this around to make me some damn predator to A.D. Jones. But I had to call someone. I had to find this girl.

  I trekked back to the bedroom for my phone. That was when I found a BBM Tori left me close to two hours ago, saying she was headed to the hotel’s gym.

  Gym?

  My heart continued to pound and palms misted as I tossed on my pajama pants and a t-shirt. I grabbed my phone and a key to the suite and jetted out of the door. Fuck the elevator, I made a beeline to the exit door. I hopped down fifteen flights of stairs, not thinking of shit but seeing her safe and cussing her ass the fuck out. That was until I got the first floor and saw there was no basement where the gym could be. I burst through the door and jogged to the front desk in front of a smiling woman of Asian descent who tried to hide how alarmed she was by my speed and stony expression.

  I was out of breath, but still tweaking from anxiety when I asked, “Gym?”

  With hiked cheeks and nothing else indicating her comfortability, she pointed down the hall. “Hang a right at the corner, sir.”