Chapter 15 #2
His hand scorches a path to my front, and fuck, I'm already arching into his touch before my brain catches up. His head angles to turn the kiss savage—all teeth and starvation. The bastard knows exactly what he's doing to me. Fingers tear past lace, finding the slick heat between my thighs.
My hips buck forward. Needy. Desperate. Everything I swore I'd never be for him.
He pulls back just enough to smirk, and that look delivers more than any threat. That fucking smirk that says he owns me and we both know it.
“Are these the ones you wore the other night?”
I hold my breath.
His mouth twitches. “When you fucked yourself to me.”
I shrug.
“Good,” he whispers, his fingers leaving a trail of heat as he finds the waist of my jeans.
He swallows my gasp with his teeth. One finger slides inside.
“Fuck,” he grunts, the sound barely audible.
The image of anyone else getting this version of him claws through me, and I'm muttering the Prevention Mantras under my breath.
“You feel as fucking good as I knew you would.”
My body locks. His thumb presses my clit like he's marking territory. “Say it.” He nips at my chin. “Say you're mine.”
Mantra’s? Laugh. Out. Loud. That’s cute…
Two fingers glide through my slick heat like they memorized the route. He doesn’t own me—swear to God—but I grind down, starving for demolition. I'm not his. Never will be. But I fuck his hand like I am, chasing ruin.
“Louder.” His teeth sink into my earlobe.
I come apart with his name carved into my tongue, his palm catching every shudder. He doesn't stop—drives through it, beyond pleasure into absolution through annihilation.
“There.” His voice is shattered glass. “Now you're ruined for them all.”
Feel nothing. Block.
Breathe. Observe.
I bend, I don't break.
My hand shoots to his belt. He laughs, working my pussy like he's studied the damn blueprint. “Nah uh. We don't have time for that.”
“Asher, I'm—” My hips chase his rhythm, hunting every scrap of friction he's offering. His thumb finds my clit, circling as his finger strokes that perfect spot inside. “Close—so, I'm—”
“You gonna come for me again like a good fucking girl? Or you gonna make me work for it?”
I'm not making him work for shit, because every muscle in my body locks tight, coiling like a wire pulled to breaking
His tongue drags across my chin, over my cheek as I shatter beneath his hand. My body convulses so hard the chairlift rocks, metal groaning.
He withdraws his fingers with a deliberate slowness that borders on cruel. He lifts his hand, eyes fixed on me, and parts his lips.
Tongue first—swift, possessive—then his mouth seals around the tips. He sucks once, cheeks hollowing, and a fresh pulse hits me in places I thought were wrung dry. The blue of his stare locks me in, dares me to flinch while he tastes every inch of proof he owns.
I breathe like I’ve forgotten how.
He releases his fingers with a soft pop, wipes the back of his hand across his jaw, and grins like he’s already planning what to eat next.
He groans, head tipping back against the seat as his shoulders drop. “Fuck.”
Fuck is right. I’m way past fuck that I’m not sure fuck even knows where I am anymore. Jesus. Nothing is making sense and—
Emotionless. Must focus.
I slip off his lap, chewing on my bottom lip before realizing I’m fucking doing it and I look weak.
He yanks his hoodie up, shadows swallowing everything but his jaw and those goddamn dimples when he grins.
“Nothing. Just that I've tasted you now, Venom.” He shifts up but keeps the hood pulled low. Leaning forward, he plants a kiss on my lips. “Your ass is mine for the remainder of this trip.”
Heat rushes up my throat, dizzy and thick. I should shove him away. I don’t. His kiss stamps its victory, and I swallow the noise that wants out.
The lift jerks, then pauses. Steel cables groan overhead. We’re suspended in white sky, the final ascent stretching under us. I lean around the breadth of his shoulders, searching for anything to ground me, but the mountain just keeps rising.
Those words already tattoo themselves behind my ribs. Days? Months? Try forever. One thing about Asher—I was right. When he claims something, he keeps it.
The chair jolts again and I turn to him. “What have you done to me?”
He mirrors my smile. “I don't know. But when you find out, fill me in.”
It's our turn to jump off and my lungs cave in. Every breath feels like a timer counting down when this will be all over. No matter how many times he claims me, or I him, it will never replace the truth. We’ll never belong to each other.
We hit packed powder, the impact rattling my knees.
His hands find my waist to steer me in whatever direction he wants.
Nope.
I lean into the nose of the board, letting it knife across packed powder. Wind claws at my eyes until tears streak sideways, but the grin stays.
He flips his middle finger with an eye roll, but follows my trail anyway.
I spot Luce and Jord draped over a neon-slick picnic table, the paint throbbing lime under the LEDs. The crowd is larger than the first game. All here for Asher.
Bass rattles along the course, speakers wired between spotlights that bleach the starting gate. Logos smear every half-pipe and ramp, LED strips outlining each run.
“How was your trip up?” Luce teases, twisting off the cap to her water.
“What?” My eyes fly over her. “Fine.”
Damn Luce. She can sniff out my lies before they even leave my mouth.
“You poor bastard.” Jord clucks his tongue, eyes weak on Asher.
“Oh, look! They have cotton candy!” I gesture toward one of the carts that sell food. Shit. Are my jeans buttoned up? Can they even see?
“Ah, she ain't so bad. Right, Venom?” Asher flings his arm around my shoulder and pulls me flush against his chest.
Jord raises a perfect brow. “I was talking about the paps, but sure, if you want to throw Ivy on that too. Just make sure you both have a story for your partners because—” He flicks his finger behind Asher and to the shutter of cameras.
Asher doesn't flinch. “They always see Ivy and me together. It isn't anything new.” He pauses, and before he even finishes the sentence, I want to hit him. “Or…maybe a few new things.”
He drags his finger over the base of my lips and… I’m swinging.
My fist lands on the hard wall of his abs, catching him off guard.
“Ouch!” He laughs, tumbling over.
“Asher!” a girl calls out from behind, and every muscle in my body freezes.
Still pouting over my right hook, I think he’s going to ignore her, when his eyes slowly shift from me, to whoever it was that called out to him.
She drifts past me in a swirl of long black hair and a body that should be on a runway.
Also… closer to his age.
Luce clears her throat as the girl leans up, planting a kiss on his lips, only he dodges and she lands on his cheek.
That’s my signal to vanish. Or at least snag a different stretch of snow until he’s finally on.
I burn two hours carving a line on the far side of the mountain, needing distance from the multiplying bodies.
When I circle back, the crowd has doubled again.
Pop-up fencing funnels everyone toward the bleachers facing the start.
The first ramp plunges, hooks hard, then slips beneath the shadows of forest.
“Hey!” Luce calls, threading through shoulders with three steaming glasses balanced against her chest. She shoves one into my hands. “Buttered rum! Yummy!”
The mug scorches my fingers in the best way. Spice and caramel punch up my nose, and my empty gut does a needy flip I pretend not to notice.
“Mmm!” Our glasses clink as I blow into the mug.
A man's voice interrupts a 50 Cent song, mumbling the line up, but I can feel myself drift.
Is it jealousy from the girl earlier? Where is Asher right now?
This right here is why love is the most underrated weapon of our time. It destroys without spilling blood.
“I'm going to head home.” I hand her back the rum, not wanting to look anywhere else in case my eyes land on him and I change my mind.
“Wait, are you okay?” Her eyes search mine. Luce is the closest thing I’d ever have to a sister. Most times, I’m thankful for it, but there are times like now, where I need her to be a shitty one. “I'll come.”
“No!” I shake my head, laughing. “You love watching the games on TV. I'll see you later.”
Before she can answer, I dash for the chairlifts. Now if I could figure out a way to worm myself out of this situation as easy as I have tonight…