by C. Shell
And he does.
Using his tongue, his fingers, and that glorious cock of his, Ashton brings me to heights I’ve only read about in books (the kinky ones hidden under my bed). And speaking of cock’s, his has a piercing in it. It’s a first for me. I’ve heard stories from some of the girls in the dorms about how great sex can be with a piercing and I always thought they were exaggerating. They’re not. Not at all.
Laid out on his bed, naked as the day I was born with my legs spread wide, Ashton’s head dips between my thighs. His fingertips dig into my hips, holding me still as his tongue laps at my dripping sex. I moan out as the pressure builds, an ache between my legs that pulsates to the point of pain. I don’t think I can take anymore, but Ashton is meticulous in details and he won’t let me go until he’s wrung another earth-shattering orgasm out of me.
I watch him move, his muscles flexing and glistening from the sweat covering his body. With a sprinkling of hair outlining his angular jaw, broad shoulders, defined torso, and a sheet of tattoos covering his golden body, he resembles a sinful work of art. How I got so lucky to catch this man’s eye is beyond me.
My stomach clenches with every swipe of his tongue. I rock back and forth, arching my back and riding his mouth as I chase my bliss. It feels good to be wanted. Really good. Just when I’m about to come, the bastard pulls back, leaving me bereft and on the edge.
“No, no, no,” I moan. “You can’t stop now” Reaching forward I try to push his face right back where I need him, but Ashton isn’t cooperating. A frustrated sound escapes my lips. Pointing to my swollen sex, I say in a sullen voice, “No one likes a tease. It’s rude to leave a girl wanting more.”
Ashton gives a rough laugh. A grin plays on his mouth and a fire burns in his eyes. “I’ve been called a lot of things sweetheart, but a tease is not one of them.” Leaning over me, his mouth claims mine. The kiss is possessive with just the right amount of passion to send an electric jolt through my body. Never has someone kissed me with such passion. Like an addict getting their fix, I crave more. Much, much, more.
Trembling under his touch, I pull him closer until we’re flush, skin against skin. My stomach swirls with heat. “I need you,” I whisper against his lips. Lust mixes with want until my senses are on overload. Every touch feels electric. “I want to wait any longer. I want to feel you inside me.”
With a growl, Ashton sits up and leans across the bed and rummages through the nightstand. My body is strung tight with anticipation. The feeling only intensifies as I watch his hips flex when he rolls on a condom. He’s thick and hard, and that piercing at the end of his cock makes my heart pump faster. My fingers grip the cool sheets as I hook my legs around his waist. I draw in short, shallow breaths as every inch of my body comes alive.
Cupping my face in his hands, his mouth hovers over mine, our eyes connect and then he’s thrusting, entering me and stretching me to accommodate his width. With each inch I take, I see an array of emotions flash across his face. My legs open wide as I take him deeper, his cock sliding in and out as liquid heat courses through me.
“You feel incredible,” he whispers, kissing my lips gently.
I roll my hips, meeting him as we rock together, our moans and grunts filling the air. I hold on to his shoulders as he kisses me like a man starved. His tongue dives into my mouth, pleasuring me, claiming me, and I love every fucking second of it.
“Fuck,” he growls. “
“Oh, don’t stop. I’m so close,” I tell him. My nails drag down his back as his mouth travels over my neck. I moan between our kisses. My thighs tighten around his waist as the pleasure in my belly grows. I don’t want our time together to end, but I don’t know how much longer I can hold back my orgasm.
Ashton works me over until I’m close to breaking. His hands cup my ass, tilting my pelvis just right so that each thrust goes deeper than the last. I thread my fingers through his hair and hold him close as ripples of pleasure wash over me. As promised, he’s got me screaming his name along with a bunch of other words that come out disjointed and incomprehensible.
He pounds harder and I meet his powerful thrusts bucking under him, as my legs shake from my building orgasm. When his fingers dance over my swollen clit, my orgasm crests and I fall apart. His body works me over like a well-versed symphony. Intense sparks of pleasure blast through me with his every touch. It’s all too much, and yet I yearn for more.
Ashton’s hips pick up speed, his muscles straining as he chases his own release. I pull back just enough and watch his face. Ashton is glorious. His sun-kissed muscles flex, his skin glistens with sweat, and his expression is one of pure bliss. As his seed spills in warm rivets he cradles me close. I feel cherished.
We lay cocooned in his bed, holding each other as we catch our breaths. With a satisfied smile on my face and his arm thrown over my midriff as he cuddles close, this moment feels amazing. No school or stress. Just him and me.
It’s a reality I hope to achieve sooner rather than later.
Chapter Eighteen
Waking, I blink several times as my bleary eyes take in the unfamiliar room. I go to sit up, but the heavy arm pinning me to the bed doesn’t let me get far. It takes far too many yawns for my tired brain to register where I am and how I got here. Last night was such a whirlwind, I never got the chance to inspect Ashton’s room.
My gaze shifts from the vaulted ceiling to the large windows overlooking the street. The heavy drapes are open letting enough light to spill in for me to easily see everything. My eyes dart left, right, and all around, taking in the dark grey décor, plush rug, high tech electronics, and large mahogany furniture that dwarfs the room, making the spacious space feel smaller than it actually is. Everything in this room has a purpose, including me.
I relax back in bed, enjoying the feel of Ashton’s naked body pressed against mine. I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the day like this, curled up in bed, cut off from the rest of the world in our own little bubble of happiness. Of course, my full bladder has other plans. I need to find a bathroom. Slipping out from under his arm, I snag one of Ashton’s shirt off the floor and pull it over my head before tiptoeing over to the en suite bathroom.
I do my business and rinse my hands before chancing a look in the mirror. I blanch at the raccoon eyes staring back at me. I resemble a girl who’s been thoroughly fucked. Which I have. Using a washcloth, I find in a cabinet, I get to work scrubbing my face, rinsing out my mouth, and using his brush to tame my tangled locks into something manageable. I don’t make it a habit of using other people’s things without their permission, but this is an emergency. Ashton should thank me because no man wants to wake up to something that reminds you of the Bride of Frankenstein. When I finally emerge from the bathroom, I feel less like a troll and more like my normal self.
I stayed in there longer than I should have. When I emerge, I find Ashton propped up on a pillow, eyes on me. “I was starting to think you were attempting to escape out the window?”
I freeze. A grin plays at my mouth.
“Nope,” I say popping the P. “Just freshening up a bit. I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed some of your stuff.”
“Never,” he says eyeing the shirt I have on. I watch as his throat bobs and his gaze turns hooded. “You look good in my clothes.” His lifts up on an elbow and pats the empty space beside him. “But you look even better with nothing on. Take that off and come back to bed,” he says low and husky.
Butterflies invade my belly.
Grabbing the bottom of his shirt, I tip my head back and start peeling it over my head. The cool air hits my skin, pebbling my nipples and making them stand at attention. “Fuck,” Ashton groans. With his eyes on me, he reaches down and starts rubbing his cock, stroking himself up and down. He’s thick, hard, and absolutely perfect. Holding his gaze, I advance and make it all of two steps before my toe catches on the rug, I stumble and pitch forward.
Sucking in a harsh breath, my arms shoot out as I fight to steady my
self. My fingers grip the mattress and my impending fall is avoided but not before my foot slams into the bedpost. Pain slices up my leg and I hiss as the ache grows stronger.
“Holy fuck that hurts.” I bounce up and down on my good foot, cursing my stupid luck and the sexy man staring wide-eyed at me. In an instant, Ashton is by my side scooping me up bridal style and carrying me back to the bathroom.
“Hang on, baby,” he whispers into my hair. With an ease that defies his size, Ashton places me down on the countertop and then flips on the harsh light.
Leaning forward, I bend my knee and access the damage. “I’m such a klutz. So much for trying to be sexy,” I complain. I attempt wiggling my toes but think better of it when the pain intensifies. My little right toe took the brunt of the force. I lightly touch the skin after seeing how red, swollen, and pissed off it is.
“Let me do that,” Ashton growls. Knocking my hands away, he takes my leg and maneuvers me around so that my foot is in front on him and my back is to the mirror. His face turns serious as he turns my foot this way and that, giving it his full attention. His touch is gentle as he squeezes each digit, and all is good until he gets to the smallest one. I suck in air through my teeth, determined not to make a sound. My toe might be injured but my pride is what hurts the most.
“It doesn’t look broken,” he says, sounding relieved. “I think it’s just jammed. I’ll get you an ice pack. That should help with the swelling.”
I yank my foot back and wave off his concern. “I’ve done worse before and everything turned out just fine. The little bugger just needs time to heal. It’ll be good as new in about a week.”
Turning his head, his eyes meet mine. “I’m the shittiest boyfriend around,” he mumbles. “Your first time at my house and I let you get hurt.”
Awe, the big sexy tattooed man is worried about me. And did he just call me his girlfriend? I blink in surprise, running his words back through my mind. He did. I’m not imagining it. Warmth rushes through me and my hurt toe is all but forgotten. Pushing forward, I wrap my legs around his waist as I grab his face in my hands and pull him to me. Our eyes lock and I smile big, like a complete lunatic.
“You said the G-word!” I laugh.
He stares back at me, and my stomach dips. With his eyes stuck on mine, Ashton’s hand skims down to my lower back and my laughter dies.
“I don’t mince words.” His body presses into mine and Ashton dips his face down so our foreheads touch, looking into my eyes. “You’re mine,” he murmurs, his voice rough.
I instinctively tighten clench my thighs around him, liking the possessiveness in his tone.
I still in his embrace.
It feels good to be wanted.
Somewhere between the easy banter and the fantastic sex, this man has his way burrowed under my skin. It seems too soon after Conner, but I can’t deny that the feelings are there. The heart wants what the heart.
“Okay,” I say on a sigh. “I’m good with that.” I open my mouth to say more, but his breath brushes my lips and my words falter. I shiver as my body reacts, and my skin tightens.
I plant my hand on his chest, not to push him away, but to pull him closer. Erasing all space between us, I press my lips to his. Ashton’s breath catches, and then he’s kissing me back, his tongue plowing into my mouth, hungry and wild. Everything about him feels so good.
Ashton’s hands slide down and cup my ass as he lifts me into his arms. I forget all about my poor stubbed toe as he carries me back to the bedroom. Passion churns between us and we end up spending the rest of the day in bed getting better acquainted. By the time I leave his house, my body is sore in the best of ways.
I don’t want to jinx things, but I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. I’m falling hard for Ashton, and I’m scared to death of having my heart broken all over again. I still have a lot of things to sort out with Conner, and I have yet to tell Ashton about my upcoming dinner party with his family. I don’t even know where to begin with that clusterfuck.
Being with Ashton has changed me. When I think of him, everything inside of me turns soft and warm. My eyes are wide open, and I feel as if Ashton and I have a real chance at becoming something real.
Now to get my stupid ex and his family out of the picture.
Chapter Nineteen
38. During _ only energy is released?
I really hate Chemistry.
I studied all night for this test until my brain felt like it would pop. I don’t see how knowing any of this will help me later in life. Two more questions and this damn test will be behind me.
Until the next one, that is.
These tests feel never-ending. I was good at Biology, but Chemistry is kicking my ass. My heart pounds in my chest as I read through the last two questions and answer them to my best ability. A quick check to make sure I didn’t miss any, then I’m packing up my things and practically sprinting to the front of the class to turn in my paper.
The moment I leave the classroom, I instantly feel lighter. Happier. I want to celebrate. Slipping on my shades, I exit the building and take the long way back to the dorm. I love days like this when the air is cool, the sky cloudless, and the sun is warm on my face. In Texas we joke that the weather is bi-polar. It’s normal to run, you’re a/c full blast during the morning only to flip on the heater by early afternoon. When we get a bought of niceness like today, we revel in it.
I hear the music well before I arrive at our door. Twisting the knob as quietly as possible, I walk in to find Becca dressed in a leather buckskin tunic with her freshly dyed pink hair knotted on top of her head dancing around the room to the sound of drums. The room is practically pulsing to the loud beat. I blink, then I do it again just to be sure my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me. They aren’t.
My roomie has lost her damn mind.
“What are you doing?” I call out, raising my voice to be heard over the loud thumping. It sounds like a tribal war call. I shake my head and watch in amusement as she swishes her ass side-to-side, her head nodding to the beat as her dancing retches up a notch now that she has an audience. Becca always loves an audience.
“Isn’t this amazing?” She asks, her hands swaying in the air.
“It’s something all right,” I snicker.
“I’m taking a class in Native Indian studies next semester. This dance is called a pow-wow.” She picks her legs up high, driving her feet into the floor with force while I watch with wide eyes.
“Okay,” I say, dragging out the word. “I get you wanting to take up a new class, but that doesn’t explain why you’re dressed in animal skin and dancing around our room like a crazy person. This is extreme,” I point out. “Even for you.”
Becca laughs, her feet never stopping as she dances circles around me. It isn’t until she gets closer that I notice the rows of beads looped around her neck and the brown feathers stuck in her hair. “Just open up your mind and listen,” she encourages. “Their war call is beautiful. You can feel the passion and anger in every beat. I feel at one with them right now.”
I open my mouth then snap it right back shut. I don’t even know what to say to her right now. Becca has always enjoyed studying other cultures. She doesn’t just learn about them; she immerses herself in them. Once she went a whole month believing that she was Irish. She wore green every day, dyed her hair red, and spoke with a horrible fake accent. It was cute at first but wore on me. All I can do is pray that she drops the dancing and drums before the semester ends or we might come to blows over this.
I could spend the rest of my day trying–and failing–to understand her need to become an Indian, or I could leave Emma to her weirdness and go see if Ashton can sneak out of work for a few hours. One glance at Emma who has progressed to chanting along with the drums and my mind is made up.
Ashton it is.
During the drive to his shop, I consider how I will tell Ashton about my weekend plans with Conner. There is no good way to say this. The longer I keep it h
ush-hush, the worse it will be. Not to mention, I don’t want to start our relationship with secrets lurking about. I don’t imagine this going well, but it’s got to be done. Surely, Ashton will see reason and understand the precarious predicament I’m in. It’s not as if I want to spend my Friday night faking niceties with a bunch of backward-thinking leeches.
Fidgeting with my purse strap, I walk into Ink Slingers with my heart in my throat. My hands shake so badly I shove them in my pockets. My eyes move around the room, taking in the full seating and the groups of people looking through portfolios. Ashton wasn’t lying about needing to hire more people. His parlor is booming with business.
Walking to the front desk, I stand before the pretty receptionist with the chest plate tattoo that was here when I got my ink done. I rack my brain to remember her name but come up blank. I think it was Gina or Gail? It was something that began with a G. I think. I’m horrible with names.
I flash her a friendly smile. “I’m here to see Ashton. Is he available?”
She glances down at her computer screen and frowns. “Do you have an appointment?”
I guess I’m not the only one with a horrible memory. “No, I don’t.” I give her another amicable smile, hoping it’ll ease the frown lines on her face. It doesn’t work. Not even a little bit. If anything, her frown has morphed into pure annoyance.
Before she can show me the door, I’m quick to add, “I’m here to surprise him.” I stick out my hand in greeting. “My name’s Emma. I’m his girlfriend.”
It isn’t until the words are out of my mouth that I realize how right it feels to call Ashton mine. My heart swells, in a momentary burst of emotion. I pull myself together and refocus on the girl standing between me seeing my man.
She shoots me an incredulous look. Whatever the reason, she’s already decided I’m her enemy. I cock my head to the side as her gaze sweeps over me, front top to bottom. She doesn’t take my hand and after a long awkward moment where all we do is stare at each other; I finally drop it to my side.