Five O'Clock Shadow: A Standalone Dark Romance (Snow and Ash)

by Heather Knight

  “Nope.” Wouldn’t miss it for the world.

  Several expressions pass over her face, each darker than the last, before she huffs, sits on the pot, and lets loose. A second later her mouth falls open and she sucks in a hiss.

  I snicker. I can’t help it. I split her wide open. She’s feeling it, all right.

  While she’s finishing up, I grab one of the towels and fling it over the shower rod. Once I get the water going, I hold out my hand. She gives me a look of pure hatred, but she takes it. I help her into the tub, climb in behind her, and shut the curtain.

  “Arms up.”

  “I know how to take a shower.”

  “We only have five minutes. I said arms up.”

  With a scowl she raises her arms, and I lather her again with soap. I linger on her breasts, and if possible my cock grows even harder when her nipples go stiff.

  She stands with her back to the spray, scrubbing her scalp, as I lather up again. When I kneel in front of her, she throws a hand to the wall and screws her eyes shut. When I rub the soap into her crotch, she yelps.

  “Noise, Amelia.” It’s a warning.

  I try to be gentle as I clean away her innocence, but she bites her lips anyway as the soap hits her raw flesh.

  I’m already anticipating her reaction when I hand her the soap. “Your turn.”

  She just looks away and grits her teeth, and I imagine she’s picturing a thousand different ways to murder me. She lathers up her hands anyway, and with all the sensuality of a fifty-year-old nurse she scrubs under my arms and down my torso. She soaps up again and cleans my balls and cock.

  She puts her hands on her hips. “Happy now?”

  “Don’t forget my ass.”

  Her jaw drops, and her face goes beat red. This is fun.

  I turn around, spread my legs, and press my hands to the wall. I halfway expect her to tell me to fuck off, but then warm fingers trace a soapy path down my crack, over my pucker, and in behind my balls. She cups them and gives them a gentle rub, and I shudder.

  The water shuts off. It’s on a timer, and I never get a second past the allotted five minutes.

  I dry myself first, then wipe her down with the damp towel. I’ll have to leave soon, so I make quick work of it.

  “Can I have some water?” she asks.

  “You’ll have to hold it all day.” Actually I’d like to watch her go all blissful again.

  “Just a small cup,” she concedes.

  “Sure. Suck my dick first.”

  “All you talk about is sex.”

  “I’m a guy. That’s all I think about.”

  She peeks down at my cock and hesitates.

  “Here, kitty-kitty.” That’s just cruel. But it works.

  My little dancer gets down on her knees.

  “Remember, no teeth, and you have to swallow my cum. Every drop.”

  God, I love owning a slave.

  She’s catching on, fast. She traces her tongue all over me before getting down to sucking me off. I swear the sight of her looking up at me with my cock in her mouth is enough to make me blow my load right then and there. I shove in as far as I can, and she gags.

  God-fucking-damn it. I love it when she gags.

  She cups my balls. This must be instinctive because I never told her to. If she keeps this up, I’ll be done in two minutes.

  I pummel her mouth with a series of thrusts and—fuck!—she feels good. I pull out and let her catch her breath.

  “Tell me you love me.”

  She’s still catching her breath.

  “Lick my dick and tell me you love me.”

  She licks the tip. “I love you.”

  She grasps my thighs and slides all the way down to the root. Her nose is in my pubic hair, and when she slides her lips up again, I almost come right then and there. She bobs over my dick and slides her fingers all the way back to my ass, then slides them down to my balls. She repeats it, and oh Jesus I can already feel my spine tingle. On her third pass over my ass, she presses more firmly but rubs my balls with a feather light touch. When she stares up at me with those innocent blue eyes and gives me a long sweeping suck, my balls lift.

  “Christ, I’m coming!”

  I fist her hair and shove myself in all the way to the root. She swirls her tongue around me as I buck against her.

  “Jesus—fuck—oh God!” I shoot the first jet of cum straight down her throat. I feel her gag around me, but I keep her pressed up against me as I pump another stream, and another, and when she swallows them, I squirt the rest of my load into her slutty little mouth. And she swallows.

  Christ. I’m exhausted. I pet her head like she’s a cat.

  And then I remember I have to find that goddamned Charlie.

  Shit.

  I pat her on the head. “Now thank me.”

  She drops my dick and gapes at me. “Why?”

  “I want you to thank me for my cum. I want you to thank me for letting you service me.”

  I raise my brows. I’m kind of not kidding.

  She swallows and looks down. “Thank you for your cum.”

  God, she’s so fucking beautiful. And that mouth. I won’t be getting rid of her soon. She’s more than worth the trouble I went to get her.

  After she brushes her teeth, I give her a cup of water. She downs it.

  Then its bedtime. She doesn’t resist as I cuff her wrists and attach her to the frame.

  “Is your pussy sore?”

  She jerks her head. “Yes.”

  I nod. I expected this. I was not gentle, and I’m bigger than your average guy. After replacing the ball gag, I drop the blanket over her.

  It’s almost time to set out on patrol, so I kiss her cheek.

  “I’ll leave your pussy alone tonight,” I whisper in her ear.

  I wait until I see that look of relief on her face before I finish. “When I get home, I’m going to fuck you up the ass.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Amelia

  The door shuts behind my soldier, and I relax against the pillow. Next time he sets me free for another one of his wild sex sprees, I should jab him in the eye and make a run for it. Of course, I have no clothes or shoes, and we’re in the middle of a volcanic winter, so I’d freeze to death before I got ten blocks.

  I could trick him into drinking some of that Pepsi and knock him out for a while, then take his boots and clothes, which, by the way, are about triple my size.

  I picture his flash of crazy when I told him to save Charlie. What if he points that rage at me?

  There’s nothing to do. I’m not used to lying around, and my muscles scream for movement. I try a few stretches and that helps some, but this is killing me.

  For lack of anything better to do, I go back to asleep. When I wake up, something soft and warm is tucked into my shoulder. It gives me a head butt and purrs.

  “Charlie, baby, I missed you,” I croon. He butts my head again, then pads up and nudges my hands. Handcuffs don’t allow much movement, but I rub his face and ears the best I can and soon his whole body vibrates. My eyes get hot, and tears spill out.

  Charlie’s here. Because of my soldier, the only friend I have is safe. Who knows? He probably saved my life too. If someone didn’t shoot me, I’d have starved.

  I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my baby safe.

  Light leaks through the kitchen window, then slowly dims as the day progresses. It’s full-on dark when the door rattles, opens, and shuts again. Charlie bolts out of the room, skids to a halt, then scuttles back and ducks under the bed.

  Just as he did yesterday, my soldier dumps something on the kitchen table, sets another item in the corner, and kicks off his boots. He pads past me to the bathroom, and I listen to him pee. Dread builds inside me with each second.

  He saved my cat, and now I have to do whatever he wants.

  Five O’Clock Shadow flicks the light on, and I squint against the intensity. He’s halfway to the bed before I can see him clearly, and he’s
already toting a bulge between his legs.

  Of course he is.

  He undoes my gag.

  “What am I supposed to call you?” I ask as he keys open the handcuffs.

  “How about master?”

  I flick my eyes to the ceiling. “How about Ted?”

  He snorts.

  “If you don’t give me a name, I’m going to call you Ted.” I tense as I wait for his reaction.

  “Where’s that hellacious cat?”

  “Hellacious?” Charlie’s sweet.

  “He tried to eat his way through my gut the whole way here.”

  “I think he ran under the bed.” I widen my arms and do a few stretches. I wince.

  He places hands on either side of my head and looms over me. That mix of body heat and male scent makes me aware of every part of my body.

  “We have an agreement,” he says. “You don’t obey me, that cat of yours is meat.”

  I swallow. “Please don’t hurt him. He’s all I have.”

  A slash appears between his brows. “You have me now. So you either behave, or—”

  “I said I’d do whatever you wanted.” I’d do anything for my baby. I mean it.

  He studies me for a moment, then gets to his feet.

  “Ted?”

  He rests his hands on his hips. “What the fuck?”

  “I have to go to the bathroom.”

  He steps back. “No one’s stopping you.”

  I dash for the bathroom and close the door. A second later it opens again, and “Ted” looms in the doorway. He smirks.

  “I have to pee. It’s no big deal.” Why can’t he let me have a little privacy?

  A smile spreads across his face. “It was so much fun yesterday.”

  I try to hold it, but of course I can’t. I stare at the shower curtain until I’m done.

  “Is there still such a thing as toilet paper?” I ask.

  He shakes his head.

  “Then I’m going to hang around here for a bit.” No way am I going to let leftover pee drip down my leg. “What’s for dinner?”

  He smirks. “Ham and cheese sandwiches.”

  I swallow the bile at the back of my throat. “Keep all the ham for yourself.”

  “Why?” He cocks his head to the side. “Are you afraid it’s human?”

  “Aren’t you?” I counter.

  “It comes in a package and it says ham on it.”

  “Did you actually see the pig, watch them butcher it, and take the ham home with you?”

  He curls his lip.

  “Then how do you know they didn’t take a bunch of people like me and send them through a processing plant?”

  He recoils. “That’s disgusting.”

  “See?”

  He sighs. “Look. Amelia. These people are very powerful. They were those one percenters people talked about before the Ash. They set up this massive Arc system. They’re prepared to feed everyone inside as long as the winter lasts, and once it’s over, they’re prepared to rebuild. So no, I don’t think I’m eating human. It’s pig. Okay?”

  I cross my arms. “I didn’t see the pig.”

  He takes a long, deep breath and turns away. I linger a moment. I’m not a big fan of drippage.

  The only soap he has comes in bar form. When I turn on the faucet, actual water comes out. The magic of it squeezes my gut.

  I roam into the kitchen and find him tucking the loaf of bread back in its airtight box.

  “How did you know where all the food was?” he asks.

  “I could smell it.”

  “It’s airtight.”

  “Have you ever been hungry?”

  “Well, no, not like—”

  “I could smell it.”

  He nods slowly and stares at the sink. “Maybe we’d better tighten security.”

  I grab the cheese sandwich. “Or you could feed us.”

  “I told you. That’s not why we’re here.”

  “Yeah, you’re here to kill us. What for? Just kill the taints.”

  “Taints. That’s what you call the cannibals.”

  “The tainted ones.”

  “Excuse me, but anyone could say they’re not a taint.”

  “The ones that look like walking skeletons? They’re not taints. Can I give some of this to Charlie?”

  He frowns.

  “You said something about fucking me up the ass tonight.”

  He chokes on his sandwich, and it’s a moment before he can speak. “You said fuck.”

  “You said it first. Like you said, we have an agreement. I’ll hold real still while you do disgusting things, but you’d better feed Charlie.”

  “You’re in no position to make demands.”

  “Oh? Got another teenage girl around waiting her turn?”

  He sighs and tosses down the sandwich. “Grab him a chunk of that ham. I see we’re going to run out of cheese soon.”

  He lets me brush my teeth, and like a second after I rinse, he pulls me to him and presses his lips to mine. He wraps his thick arms around me, and I tingle all over.

  “Turn around,” he says, his voice already husky.

  I turn, and he gathers my hair all over to one side and kisses that place where neck becomes shoulder. Another shot of tingles warms me. He runs his lips up my neck and kisses just underneath my ear, then eats his way down to the edge of my shoulder.

  “Come on.” He holds out his hand.

  This is much better than being dragged by the neck, and I take it.

  “Get on the floor. I want you on your back.” He pulls the easy chair away from the fireplace, leaving us plenty of room.

  I go tense. “Is this going to hurt?”

  He looks me straight in the eye. “Probably.”

  I draw in a jagged breath, swallow, and lower myself onto the carpet. Placing my hands on my stomach, I wait for my next instruction.

  Instead of attacking me, though, my soldier gets down and grazes his lips over mine.

  He plays with my tummy, my legs, always coming close but never touching my… ah…

  “Ted?”

  He jerks his head up. “Will you quit calling me Ted?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know what else to call you.”

  “Can’t you call me something better, like Lance, or Big Dick Man?”

  He’s about to put that giant thing up my butt, but I giggle.

  He lowers his head again.

  “I have a question.”

  He sighs and takes my head in his hands. “Later.”

  “When we do things, will you tell me what it is we’re doing?” I roll my eyes and my blush is so fiery I think I’ll burn up. “I don’t know anything. Before you came along, I only knew penis and vagina, and the man sticks his in hers. So, could you please tell me what things are so I don’t feel like a complete idiot?”

  “You’re fucking kidding me.”

  “No.”

  “You and your friends didn’t talk?”

  “Well yeah, but about dancing or school or who we were mad at. If we talked about a boy, it was about how cute he was. Trust me, we all knew what a penis was, but we didn’t talk about it. Much.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  I gape at him. “I was young, okay? Yellowstone blew on my thirteenth birthday.”

  He lets out a breath and sits back on his heels.

  Every naked, exposed inch of my body cringes. “Okay. You know what? I don’t want to know. Just do your… thing and get it over with.”

  He brushes his lips against mine. Again. Another pass and his tongue licks my lower lip oh so gently.

  I’m so stiff I could spring into the sun.

  He kisses back behind my ear, down my neck, and all along my collarbone, and that tingling, comfortable sensation returns. He retraces his path. When his tongue darts into my ear, I’m shocked, but it’s delicious and I suck in my breath. He nips and kisses along my jaw, tasting the tender skin just underneath, and I tilt my head, giving him access. Finally
his lips find mine again. I yield. The first kiss is sweet, innocent—just a brush of his lips. Then he moves in and deepens it. His tongue strokes mine and takes control, and to my embarrassment, that place between my legs seeps. I curve into him, dig my hands into his hair, but we’re no way close enough.

  When he pulls back, we’re both breathing heavily. “French kiss,” he whispers.

  My eyes are still unfocused. “French kiss,” I repeat.

  He kisses my collarbone, nips the spot underneath, and plays his way down to my breasts. I sigh as he cups them and runs his thumbs over the tips. Gentle but firm, his touch gives me sweet tingles. I want to grab him by the head and hold him there. When he seizes a peak with his lips and tongue I gasp, and when he takes a gentle pull, I let out an embarrassingly loud moan. He moves to the other tip and—oh is he trying to milk me or what? I run my fingers through his hair to keep him from moving. By the time he’s done teasing me there, my body is limp and all I want him to do is shove that thing in me, even though logic tells me it will hurt.

  Cupping my breasts again, he murmurs, “These are tits when it’s just you and me. Breasts in public.”

  I nod and try to tug him closer, but he just smiles and dips his head down and nuzzles my belly. Kissing, licking, rubbing me with the shadow of his beard.

  That place up inside of me twitches. I’m never leaving him. Ever. Not if he can do this.

  He ducks farther. I wince as he dips his hand between my legs and touches my soreness. Annoyed, I try to wiggle away, but he holds me firm. “Let me,” he says, and reluctantly I part my legs for him. Ever diligent, he traces a path around my opening, and I discover that the wetness makes it easier. It’s definitely no cure for pain, though, because when he slides a finger into my vagina I get the urge to twist his entire hand into a pretzel.

  Ignoring my protest, he kisses my belly, then traces his tongue down until it rests over my opening. His lick is tiny, hardly any pressure at all, but my eyes go wide at the sensation.

  “This is your slit. It opens into your cunt. I dreamed about your cunt all day. I couldn’t wait to get home and bury myself in you.” If his words thrill me, does that make me bad?

  My breaths come shallow and fast. “What’s my pussy then?”

  “Same thing, only—” He licks my labia all the way up to the juncture.