Chapter 24 #2
If he could stop saying all the sweet shit for one freaking minute, that would be brilliant.
“Hate to break it to you, but I poop too.”
Ash snorts. “I’m aware. I was there when you ate two burritos and finished them off with a jumbo ice cream.”
“Wow. You must really love me.” Kieran wouldn’t wish that experience on his worst enemy.
“I must.”
A smart remark lodging in his throat, Kieran stares at him. He watches, momentarily struck speechless, as Ash wraps his hands around the left foot and presses his thumbs into the sole.
It’s a little ticklish, but the pressure provides such an acute relief that it drags an honest-to-god moan out of him. He slaps a hand over his mouth, though it’s too late. Ash caught it alright, and he looks smug as hell.
Kieran would love to kick him in his perfect teeth, but…holy hell, it feels way too good to stop.
“How are you so good at this?”
“Not my first time.”
Kieran narrows his eyes. Not his first time?
Great. Fantastic. Which one of Ash’s past conquests got the five-star spa treatment?
The thought needles at him, but he shoves it down and turns his attention to the TV, to Jake, determined to ignore whatever Ash is doing to him; but it’s impossible.
It’s not only that it feels good. The way Ash treats him, cradling his feet like they’re made of gold instead of biohazard material…
there’s something inexplicably intimate about it.
About being handled so gently, so deliberately.
Ash’s thumbs sweep lower, into the curve of his heel, slow and precise. Kieran’s whole body shivers. His chest tightens, heat pooling low, making his breath hitch.
Fuck. Why now of all times?!
“Um…I’m good now, we can stop.”
Ash’s grip tightness when Kieran attempts to pull away. “Do we have to?”
An excuse at the ready, Kieran’s mouth seals shut. That innocent expression on Ash’s face is extremely suspicious. Then his lips twitch, and Kieran knows for sure.
“You were doing that on purpose!” He kicks his feet until Ash has no choice but to let go.
“Busted.”
But clearly not apologetic at all. Dirty pervert.
“I didn’t even know that could happen,” Kieran comments, miffed by his own body’s reactions. Since when are feet his erogenous zone? Not that he ever paid them much attention.
“I told you, I know you,” Ash brags. His sneaky, grabby hands find Kieran’s foot again, resuming the massage. “I know all of you. I know what you like.”
“I don’t like bragging,” Kieran retorts. “It’s not fair. You have an advantage here. A two-year long one.” It bothers him that Ash might know him better than he knows himself.
“I’m happy to even out the score if you want to know more about me,” Ash offers. How generous of him.
“I’m good, thanks. Plus, I bet you’re up for anything.” Probably tried every single thing from the Kamasutra too.
“Not anything. But I am pretty open-minded.”
“Figures,” Kieran deadpans. “Let go. I need a minute.” Unfortunately, the boner refuses to die. Maybe if Ash stopped touching him for one goddamned minute!
“Want me to take care of it?”
Kieran makes a very dignified, very manly sound. “No, thanks.”
“I’d be gentle,” Ash repeats his promise from before, adding a wink. “Since it’s your first time.”
“Somehow, I doubt that,” Kieran says calmly. Screams internally. Why the fuck is he getting harder?!
“Why?”
“Just can’t imagine you that way.” Are they seriously having this conversation? And why is Ash massaging around his calf now?!
“Can you imagine me another way?” He sounds genuinely curious, not at all teasing, but Kieran doesn’t even get a chance to answer. “Although, there’s no need for you to imagine.”
If it were anyone else, Kieran would be bracing for impact, preparing to fight back, to defend himself. Most people, sensing the hesitation, would take advantage. Consider the absence of no to be equivalent to agreement.
But not Ash. For all his bragging and relentless flirting, he never pushes past the line. He just waits, hand warm against his leg, steady, patient. Giving Kieran plenty of space to refuse, to pull away.
It has Kieran wondering if Ash is just playing a well-calculated game of chess, because it’s the freedom to say no without consequences that makes him want to say yes.
“Don’t do anything weird, okay? Or I’ll fucking kill you,” he says through clenched teeth, not wanting to appear too eager. Because he’s not. Eager, that is. He’s…mildly curious. Also, Ash is annoyingly persistent, so maybe after this, he’ll leave him alone. That’s all.
Ash goes still, either from surprise, or because he’s wondering if Kieran’s murderous glare and harsh words actually count as consent.
He must arrive at a conclusion, because he smiles as if Christmas came early.
“Duly noted.”
Kieran braces himself, fully expecting Ash to pounce on him now that he’s been given a green light.
He doesn’t.
Ash stays where he is, stroking Kieran’s ankle, his calf, gradually inching his hands higher. His eyes never leave him, as if expecting Kieran to change his mind, to call it off.
When he moves, it’s slow and unhurried. He climbs and settles over Kieran in a way that’s careful and unthreatening, keeping most of his weight off by leaning on his elbows. His lips part; not like he’s about to speak. Like he’s about to kiss.
The panic must reflect in Kieran’s expression, because the kiss never lands.
Instead, Ash shifts his weight onto his left side, freeing one of his hands and letting it wander; along Kieran’s ribs, down his arms, over his chest. Every damn inch he can reach.
The clothes between them do absolutely nothing to dull the intensity Ash leaves behind, as if every touch is a brand, marking Kieran as his.
Shit, this wasn’t the deal. Ash was meant to get him off, for practical purposes. Not gaze down at him like he’s trying to memorize every line of his face, as if he’s never seen it before. How is Kieran expected to cope with this kind of attention?
“You’re heavy. Wanna let up a bit?” he lies, like complaining might help him save face.
“That would defeat the purpose.”
“Huh?”
When Ash settles between his parted legs, slotting their hips together, Kieran’s pulse is a wild, frantic thing.
Ash rubs against him slowly, deliberately, the friction carefully controlled but no less devastating.
Kieran’s hands fidget uselessly at his sides, trying to anchor himself somewhere, anywhere, while his body betrays him with every shift.
“What are you doing?” he demands breathlessly, freaked out by how sensitive his body is.
“I’m being gentle,” Ash says, but the way he thrust forward is anything but. His cock drags against Kieran’s, a zing of lightning shooting up his spine. “Clothes stay on, so you don’t have to overthink. Just feel, Kieran. That’s all you need to do.”
Oh really? That’s all? Great. Because it’s not like the feeling part is the scariest bit. Not at all.
He’s not sure what it is; Ash’s echoing reassurance, his earnest promises, or the way he moves against him, on top of him. Like every shift, every drag of his body against Kieran’s, is a perfectly calculated move that’s supposed to shake him up like a snow globe.
Whatever it is, it tears his defenses down, brick by brick, until he has no choice but to feel.
“That’s it,” Ash praises. “That’s it, Kieran. Just like that.” The words sound like they’re punched out of him, like seeing Kieran give in is dismantling his own defenses.
Kieran takes him in. There are drops of sweat clinging to his hairline, his muscles bulging through his shirt with the effort of holding himself up.
Yeah, okay. He admits it.
Ash is fucking hot, in an illegal sort of way. But it’s the look in his eyes that gives Kieran pause.
There’s lust and need, sure. Kieran’s seen it many times before, just lurking beneath the surface, like a warning.
But there’s something else beneath the hunger; a quiet, burning devotion.
The kind that says he’d go anywhere, endure anything, just for Kieran, even if he had to walk through the pits of hell.
And in that moment, caught between desire and awe, Kieran realizes just how much he trusts him, how completely he could surrender and still be protected. Even in the chaos of want and heat, that devotion roots him in a way nothing else ever has.
His hands find a way to Ash’s sides, digging into the firm muscles there. Abandoning his last shred of dignity, he pulls him forward, urges him on. Ash is more than happy to oblige, working his hips like it’s an Olympic sport.
Something flashes in his eyes before he stops.
Kieran freezes, afraid he messed up somehow.
But then Ash chuckles, soft and warm, and the fear disintegrates.
He peels Kieran’s hands off his sides, lips brushing over his knuckles in a butterfly kiss that sends Kieran’s heart into his throat.
Then he takes both Kieran’s wrists in one hand and presses them over his head.
“Remember your safeword?”
Too stunned to speak, Kieran nods.
“Do you need to use it?”
After a moment of contemplation, he shakes his head.
He might have as well handed Ash the damn moon, his smile is so bright.
“Good boy. Now, hold on tight.”
Kieran melts at the praise, then tenses. Hold on tight? Onto what? He’s completely imobiliz—
“Shit.”
Some kind of kink-switch must’ve been flipped in Ash’s horny mind because things go from 0 to 100 very quickly. He grabs one of Kieran’s legs and hikes it over hip, opening him up completely. Even with clothes on, he feels so damn exposed.
He swallows down the embarrassment, buries it deep, and forces himself to just feel, as Ash had asked.
In the end, it’s not that hard to do. There’s not much room for anything else when Ash starts pumping his hips in a steady rhythm, driving into Kieran over and over.
Their dicks rub together in a way that’s half pain, half pleasure, each somehow heightening the other.