by Gemma James
This is the part of Ashton I love.
Love.
That word sticks in my mind like a fly to a glue trap, just buzzing there, trying to break free. My heart thuds to the bottom of my gut, and I know I won’t be able to eat much—not with this disturbing, dawning realization that what’s going on between Ash and me is growing into something bigger than I imagined.
Something terrifying.
Something out of my control.
“You look like you’re about to be sick. Want me to get you out of here?”
Yes. More than anything. But the promise of my father’s watchful eye isn’t the reason my head is spinning. Ashton is, with his husky voice in my ear, his fingers locked with mine, and his woodsy scent infusing my senses.
His quiet ability to infiltrate my heart despite me trying to stop it.
“No, I’m okay,” I say as Jake enters the dining room. His stare is thunderous as he takes a seat across from us.
With a sigh, Ash lets go of my hand. But he sets his shoulders in determination as if he’s preparing for a war over a battlefield of gourmet food. And maybe he is, considering he and Jake are locked in a death stare of epic proportions.
My father makes his presence known at the head of the table, and the tension breaks. Jake turns his attention to my dad, his face washed free of the glower that lived there a second ago.
“I’d like to thank everyone for coming tonight,” my father says. Servers make the rounds, handing out flutes of champagne. After everyone has their celebratory glass, my dad clears his voice.
“JJ came to Sawyer and Bennett five years ago green behind the ears.” He pauses, letting out a gruff laugh. “What he lacked in experience, he made up for with his competitive drive to succeed. Law is in his blood, and we’re fortunate to have him onboard. To JJ,” my dad says, his voice thick with emotion as he raises his glass.
The toast echoes around the dinner table, but I can hardly speak. Something about my father’s speech scraped at the scabbed-over scars on my heart.
He’s never once been that proud of me.
Hurt burns behind my eyes, and I blink a few times to keep the tears at bay. No way in hell am I going to cry in front of these people. To mask my fragile emotional state, I take a long sip of the bubbly.
It’s as bitter as I feel, and the fizz nearly chokes me.
Just like my father’s speech did.
A hand lands on my thigh, and when I tilt my head toward Ashton, I find him studying me with those keen blue eyes of his. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. His support is there in the warm weight of his palm, the pinch of his lips, the tiny furrow in his brows. His gaze darts to my father for a second, and I swear, if looks could kill, my father would be on the floor right now, bleeding out from Ashton’s sharp anger.
I cover his hand with my own, silently thanking him for being here for me. But the air shifts between us, and he inches his hand up my thigh, making my body tingle with heat. My fingers tighten around his, trapped in indecision.
Part of me wants to push him away. The other part wants to urge his touch higher. My legs part by an inch, my body making the decision for me. I don’t resist when he drags the hem of my dress up.
Our gazes crash together in a fatal collision of longing. I’m lost, tumbling around and around in the ether regions of this endless loop of a moment.
Ashton draws his bottom lip between his teeth as he slips his hand between my thighs, the warm pads of his fingers stroking me. There’s promise in that touch, threat in the heat of his eyes, power in his mere presence.
The unforgiving line of his jaw is a reminder of passion and punishment to come.
Jake’s scowl catches my eye from across the table, and suddenly, I know I’d take Ash’s punishment any day over the charade playing out in this dining room. I’ll bare my ass for Ashton as long as he wants if this damn dinner will just end already.
Chapter Eighteen
Ashton
If Sadie’s asshole ex glares at me one more time, we’re going to have issues.
Reserved conversation filters through the room, along with clinking silver on china. I fork in a bite of duck or lamb or whatever this shit is while I stroke Sadie out of her ever-loving mind.
Jake knows exactly what’s going on under the table which is why he keeps giving me his eat-shit glare. It’s not the barely contained rage on his face that bothers me. It’s the possessiveness. The air surrounding him that says he’s better than I am.
That expression tells me he thinks Sadie belongs to him.
I’ve got news for the bastard. Sadie is a goddamn person and doesn’t belong to anyone, but if someone is staking a claim here, it’s me.
Right now, my fingers are staking a damn memorable claim. I dip one into her wet center, making her grip the edge of the table. An audible gasp puffs off her lips, and I love the way her cheeks deepen in that sexy flush I can’t get enough of.
Her knuckles are white, her body stiff with resistance, but her thighs…fuck, she’s parting them for me by a couple more inches. I take advantage and finally slide all the way home into her drenched core. Hot damn, she’s tight. Pure. I’m desperate to be the first man to push between her legs and steal her innocence.
And I’ll treasure it forever.
“You should eat,” I say, nodding toward her full plate. “You’re gonna be busy later.”
She lifts her gaze to mine, and I can’t stop the tiny smile from taking hold of my mouth. Her eyes widen as the innuendo behind my words springs to the surface. Across the table, Jake sets his glass of water down with a heavy hand. I don’t bother glancing his way; I already know he’s glaring again.
“So, Sadie,” the wife of some schmuck sitting next to Jake says, “do the two of you have a date in mind for the wedding?” The woman’s words ice my veins, and I withdraw my fingers from Sadie’s most intimate spot.
What a way to kill the mood.
Sadie stiffens beside me, and I catch the panicked look she darts in her father’s direction, as if he can help her. Her trust in that man is misplaced; Joe Sawyer will probably drag her down the aisle, kicking and screaming, if she doesn’t put a stop to this bullshit now.
Jake clears his throat. “We’re still discussing the particulars, Mrs. Ferris.” He settles his possessive gaze on Sadie. “Though I must confess to hoping for a Christmas wedding.”
“That is a fantastic idea, JJ,” Joe speaks up from the head of the table.
All the while, Sadie is stone still at my side. Now she’s gripping the table with both hands, and if I thought her knuckles were white before, that was nothing compared to now. Her chest is unmoving, and I’m sure she’s holding her breath while she stares at her plate.
I swing my gaze between Jake and Sadie’s father as they go on about rings and engagement galas, venues, and even locations for the honeymoon.
And I can’t take it anymore.
Rising to my feet, I grab my glass of champagne and a spoon, then tap that fucker against the crystal. Everyone falls silent, all eyes on me.
“Forgive me for interrupting this charade, but how about we cut through the bullshit already?” Several people gasp, and Sadie’s father…well, I’m sure I’m about to be tossed out on my ass.
It’ll be worth it in the end because I can’t let them do this to her.
“Sadie has no plans to marry this jerk,” I say, pointing to Jake and his reddening face across the table. “Not only did he fail to ask her if she wanted to marry him, but he can’t keep it in his pants. Just ask his assistant.” Setting the glass and spoon onto the table, I step back. “C’mon, Sadie. Let’s get out of here.” I’m reaching for her hand when her father’s booming voice halts me.
“How dare you ruin this night for JJ and my daughter.” He rises and jabs a finger toward the entrance of the dining room, and the front door beyond. “I want you out of my house!”
“Gladly,” I say with a barely contained sneer. “But Sadie’s com
ing with me.”
She rises to her feet, but Joe’s thunderous baritone freezes her to the spot. “Where do you think you’re going, young lady? Your mother and I raised you better than this.”
I’m waiting for her to tell him she’s an adult, her own fucking person, and can make her own fucking decisions. But she doesn’t do any of it. Instead, she apologizes.
“I think we should go. I’m sorry if I ruined dinner.”
I want to throttle her. No, I want to spank the hell out of her ass. If anyone here should be sorry, it’s her father and his favorite chump. Before I can speak up again, she’s practically dragging me from the dining room, her desperate fingers curling around my arm.
Only the tears escaping the corners of her eyes keeps me quiet as I follow her outside into the bitter cold.
Chapter Nineteen
Sadie
As I wipe the moisture from my eyes, the silence in the car is deafening. I know Ashton’s angry at me, or at the very least, disappointed.
I’m disappointed in myself too, but I’m more angry at him right now for causing a scene. It was unnecessary and far from appropriate. He doesn’t know my father the way that I do, and public displays like that are not the way to get through to him.
Calm, logical discussions are the only way to gain any leeway with my father.
Ashton slows the car and makes a left turn, and I realize he’s headed toward his house.
“I want to go home,” I say.
He shakes his head like the stubborn, obstinate guy he is. “You’re coming back to my place.”
“I’m not in the mood for this, Ash.”
“I don’t care. What happened back there isn’t going to ruin this night.”
“Isn’t Bryce home?” I’m grasping at straws, but I don’t have the energy for any more arguments tonight. First, my father laid into me in his study earlier about everything from my dress to my date. And now this.
“Nope. He’s spending the weekend with his girlfriend, so we have the house to ourselves.”
“I’m not in the mood for this. Just take me home.”
“You got to come all over my tongue in that bathroom, sweetheart. Now it’s my turn. Besides,” he says, shooting me his patented smirk-like grin, “I think you’re overdue for another cock-sucking lesson.”
Ugh. If only my girly bits wouldn’t get so damn excited when he talks like that.
We’re silent for the next few minutes as he drives the rest of the way to his place. He pulls into the driveway and cuts the engine. We’re both shivering and rubbing our hands together in search of warmth by the time he unlocks his door.
The living room is dark, and the hallway beyond even darker. He grabs my hand and pulls me toward his bedroom, turning up the heat on the way.
We enter his room, and he flips on a soft light before the door shuts all the way behind us. And he wastes no time in undressing me. Considering I’m only wearing the scrap of fabric masquerading as a dress, minus undergarments, it’s pretty damn easy for him to get me naked.
“Get under the covers,” he says, his fingers working the buttons on his shirt.
“W-why?”
“You’re shivering still.” He gestures toward the bed. “Don’t worry. I’ll behave.” His edgy tone pricks my heart, but I ignore it as I crawl under the blankets. After he sheds his pants, he slides in beside me, arms reaching.
Fingers grasping, hands pulling, until I’m lying on top of his muscular body with his hard cock between us. I fall into the cold, turbulent sea of his eyes, my breaths shallow.
He raises a hand and thumbs the corner of my mouth. “You feel so fucking good on top of me like this.”
“You feel good too.” It’s a simple truth; one I wish I hadn’t confessed.
“I’d feel even better in your mouth.”
I start to slide down his body, but he grabs my hair, halting my progress. “I want you to go slow this time. We’ve done fast and hard, and I’ve taken control. Now I want you to learn how to tease. Nothing will reduce a man to his knees like the need to blow his load.” His gaze traps mine for a few seconds. “The longer you hold it off, the more power you have over him.”
His words make my breath hitch. I envision having power over Ashton, and something about that thrills me too much.
“Okay,” I whisper, gently yanking on my hair until it slips through his fingers like sand. “I’ll go slow.”
His hand settles on the back of my head in a guiding move. The covers fall below his washboard abs, and my gaze flicks up to meet his. As I inch my lips over the wet crown of his shaft, he shutters his eyes. I swirl my tongue around the slit, and he sucks in a breath.
And I stop to wait.
For my heartbeat to calm once more.
For him to let loose that breath.
It escapes between gritted teeth, and he gives a push to the back of my head. I soften my lips and slide my mouth down his shaft, and we settle into a lazy rhythm. Up, down, up—my tongue flicking over the slit of his crown before taking a languid journey toward the base. I return to the tip again and place a kiss there.
“God, Sadie. That’s it. You’ve got me on the fucking edge.”
The longer I spend teasing his cock, the more wound up he becomes.
The more desperate.
“Shit,” he moans. “Your mouth is heaven.”
From the corner of my eye, I watch him fist the sheets with his free hand.
“Take me deeper.”
His other hand is still unmoving at the back of my head, a constant reminder that he can take control whenever he wants. But he doesn’t. He’s letting me set the pace. I continue to tease him, and a tremor starts off in his arms before traveling through his legs.
“You’ve got the teasing part down to the fucking letter.”
I pull off his cock and take the sight of him in. Really take him in. The hair around his ears is damp from sweat, his mouth is a tight line of frustration, and his knuckles are white as he grips the sheet.
And his body. Jesus, he’s shaking with the need to blow his load down my throat.
“Do you react to every woman like this, or is it…?”
Just me.
“Never mind.” What a dangerous question. I don’t know what I was thinking by asking it.
“Just you, Sawyer. Not that it hasn’t been good in the past, but there’s just something about you and me…”
He trails off, but I know exactly what he’s getting at. We fit together.
But it’s time to take the focus off of that idea. “Will other…I mean do you think I’ve learned enough to…to do this with other guys?”
The look he gives me is alarming. Narrowed brows, icy eyes. The next thing I know, he’s flipped us, and I’m lying on my back, staring at the ceiling.
Ash straddles my chest and pins me to the mattress. “Grab the bars.”
I hold on to them without protest. He’s too on-edge to fling my attitude at him.
He leans forward and props himself up with one hand on top of the headboard. Fisting the base of his shaft, he pushes the head against my lips.
“Open your mouth.” Despite the firm pressure of his cock, he gives the order in a soft tone. There’s also determination behind it. He wants inside my mouth, and he wants inside now.
I part my lips, allowing him to thrust between them, and push my tongue against his tip to keep him from going too deep.
A low growl emanates from his pressed-together lips. “Let me in your throat, Sadie.”
Squeezing the bars of the headboard, I try to edge my head back, but he only follows. And now I’m further trapped, stuck between a sexually worked-up man and a mattress that refuses to give. I’m not sure why I’m fighting him. Taking him deep is uncomfortable and a little scary, but it’s also empowering. Maybe it’s the position. The helplessness.
And that’s when I realize he wants me helpless. My talk of blowing other guys pissed him off.
“Now, Sawyer. If you d
on’t open your throat, I’ll cuff you to the bed and make you come so many times you’ll lose count.” He cocks a brow. “It might sound like fun, but trust me, it’ll be more painful than anything.”
My heart skips several beats, and a shiver goes down my spine. I can’t decide if it’s a good shiver or a bad one. Drawing in a calming breath through my nose, I relax my throat and flatten my tongue.
Ash doesn’t hesitate. He squeezes his eyes shut, and his jaw is carved from granite as he thrusts with violent desperation until I’m gagging from the onslaught of his anger. The mattress is bouncing and squeaking under the force of his hips.
And I can do nothing but lie here and take it.
Part of me is ashamed to admit that I like him taking my mouth this way. He’s stealing the control from me, and along with that, he’s owning the chaos that goes on in my mind when I’m blowing him
There’s no time for self-doubt to creep in. No time to wonder if I’m sucking him right since there is no right or wrong way when he’s in control.
“Close your eyes,” he rasps out. My lids flutter shut right as he lets loose a hoarse cry. He jerks out of my mouth, and I feel his warm release squirt onto my lips, hitting my nose, dripping onto my shuttered eyelids.
Wow. He just came on my face.
I’m still reeling from his actions when he thumbs his cum out of my eyes. Blinking several times, I finally settle my attention on him. The coldness in the hard lines of his face is still there. So is the ice in his eyes. He just blew his load all over my face to degrade me.
To punish me.
Intense hurt rises inside my chest, and I fight the burn of tears. I will not cry in front of him. I won’t. And yet the tears fall anyway. I’m as helpless to stop them as I am from moving underneath his powerful body.
“Get off of me,” I say, pushing against his massive chest with blind movements, unable to see clearly through the pain clouding my vision. He grabs my hands and slams them to the mattress on either side of my head.
“Why are you crying?”