Chapter 20 Camile #2
She winds herself around him, butting her head into his hand and purring with happiness. Does she just associate Ace with food, and that’s why she’s pleased to see him, or is she generally drawn to him like nearly every other female seems to be?
“Who needs therapy when you have a little furry head to kiss?” He demonstrates this by planting a series of firm, rapid kisses on Marmalade’s head.
She doesn’t seem to mind; why would she? I don’t think I’d mind Ace kissing my head either, and I find myself smiling.
He gets to work dividing out the meat then handfeeding it to Marmalade. She purrs as he strokes her back while she eats. There’s also a bowl of water in the corner, which I assume she drinks from, and he uses a little to rinse off his hands.
Ace was right; I do feel better being around the cats. Marmalade finishes eating and accepts a little more fuss from us before she rounds up her kittens and takes them back into her nest.
Ace glances over at me.
“See, I told you—”
He cuts off, suddenly lurching to his feet as a look of sheer panic takes over his face.
My stomach clenches in response. “What’s wrong?”
“Shit, shit, shit.”
Ace dances around the hayloft like someone set his feet on fire. He reaches for the hem of his T-shirt and yanks it up over his head, tossing it to the hayloft floor.
I should be worrying about what’s wrong with him, but all I can do is stare.
It takes me totally aback seeing him bare-chested like this, because wow, he really is perfectly formed.
His skin is smooth and tan and the perfect canvas for all the tattoos covering his chest and biceps.
His abs are beautifully defined, and there’s a faint dusting of hair between his nipples that extends in a tantalizing line down his stomach.
I drag my gaze back to his face, though, as he’s still dancing around, and he’s starting to alarm me.
There isn’t a huge amount of space up here, and Ace is not exactly a small man. The vision of him toppling over the edge and breaking multiple bones panics me.
“Ace,” I cry. “Be careful! What the hell are you doing?”
“A spider!” he yells. “It went in my clothes. A spider is in here somewhere!”
“I thought you liked animals,” I say, amused, though I’m still slightly alarmed. “Calm down. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“Not spiders!” His hand goes to his belt buckle as he starts to undo his jeans. “Fucking spiders are the scourge of this Earth. We may need to burn the whole barn down.”
I laugh. “I think you’re being a little bit dramatic.”
“No, no, it’s on me. I can feel it. Its horrible legs tickling my skin. Oh, fuck.”
He visibly shudders and then kicks off his boots.
His hands go back to his jeans, and I suddenly realize he’s planning on removing those, too.
I stare, mouth agape, as he shucks the jeans from his hips, his back to me, and I realize he’s not wearing any underwear as I face his perfect ass. Of course, Ace goes commando.
He kicks the jeans away, still flapping and dancing around.
He’s completely naked now, except for a pair of socks, and as he turns to me again, my gaze lands straight on one thing.
His rather large member, which is swaying between his thighs.
Christ, he’s hung like a horse. Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I slam my eyes closed.
“Ace!” I cry in alarm. “Your dick!”
“What?” he says, his eyes widening in horror. “It’s on my cock. Oh, my God, oh, my God.”
My eyes snap back open again, staring in disbelief. His hands go to that area, fluttering around as if he thinks he’s going to dislodge this imaginary spider from his penis. Laughter bubbles up inside me, and it feels so remote and strange as it pours out of my mouth.
“No!” I snort laughter. “I can see your dick, that’s all. There’s no spider.”
That gets through to him. Ace stops leaping around and stares down at the result that the action of his hands have had on his dick.
All that manhandling has clearly made his cock think it’s getting some action—even if it had been for the wrong reason—and now it’s standing half-erect, thick and heavy, between his thighs.
He stares down at himself, as though wondering where it came from.
“Oh, shit,” he says. “Sorry. But my erection is not because of you.” He gestures to his cock, which is growing longer and thicker by the second.
“I mean, obviously I’d happily get an erection because of you, if you wanted me to.
My cock definitely likes you. I just meant that the reason for this particular erection isn’t because of you. ”
“Oh, my God, Ace. Stop saying erection and turn around.”
He turns around.
And now my eyes are glued to his pert, peach-like ass.
My mouth waters, and I genuinely have to hold myself back from crawling up to him and biting it.
Right at the top of his ass is a tattoo of the ace of spades.
Is that because of his name, I wonder? Or did the tattoo come first?
I take in the toned muscles of his back and clench my thighs as my pussy pulses.
It’s dangerous to do anything about this feeling, but my life is already on fire.
I wanted a date, and Ledger turned out to be an attempted murderer and possible rapist. Way to go, me.
So I never got that bit of adventure I’d been craving, and now everything has fallen apart.
It hurts. It just hurts too fucking much, and I want it to stop.
Just for a minute. The feelings that have been building inside me are too big, too scary, and if I don’t find an outlet, I’m scared I’ll blow and completely crack up.
Ace could be my outlet.
He could be what I need.
A beautiful, unhinged distraction. That’s exactly what I need right now. Something to take my mind off my fears for my family and future, and my complicated grief over my father.
No, I think, I can’t.
Why not? says the devil on my shoulder. After all, I no longer need to keep myself a sweet little virgin for my father to marry off, because my father is dead.
Our family has lost the power it once had, and no important mafia family will want to take me as a way of securing their own alliances now.
Even if my brother manages to pull things around, people will know we’ve been hit badly, and no one wants to be associated with damaged goods.
Free. The word whispers through my mind. It’s scary, but it’s also strangely exciting. The future that held me in its icy grasp is gone. Poof. There is no road map now, and no reason I can’t do something for myself for once in my life.
I push myself onto my hands and knees. “Ace?”
My voice is a breathy whisper, and he half-turns at the sound of it. His gorgeous green eyes widen at the sight of me on my hands and knees. “What are you doing?”
“You can turn back around now.”
“Camile, I don’t think Jack—”
“Fuck Jack.”
A smile quirks the corner of his lips. “Well, if you say so.”
He turns back to face me fully, and I suck in a breath. Having faced the other way has done nothing for his erection. If anything, it’s even bigger and harder than it was before. My core gives a low thump of need, and desire I’ve only ever felt for one man before courses through me.
I might be obsessed with Jack, but he’s not interested in me in that way, or at least he won’t let himself be. And Ace is gorgeous, and I want him, and I think he wants me right back.
“I want to taste you,” I tell him. “Can I?”
His cock jerks at my words, and a clear bead of precum forms on the very tip. I dart my tongue out to wet my lips, and he wraps his hand around the base of himself.
“I’m gonna get in some serious shit with the Prez if he finds out,” Ace says, “but fuck if it won’t be worth it.”
He pumps himself a couple of times, and the sight of his hand wrapped around himself makes me moan. I’m already wet, and I haven’t even been touched. My nipples are hard bullets beneath my dress.
I crawl up to him and pause with my nose directly opposite the head of his cock.
I look up at him, and our gazes lock. Slowly, I run my lips all over his erection, up and down, marveling at how soft his skin is, and how hard he is beneath.
Breathing him in, I love the clean, slightly musky scent of him.
The head is wet with precum, and I lap at him.
He’s surprisingly salty, and the taste seems to have the immediate impact of making me even wetter.
I clench my thighs, enjoying the tingling heat that continues to build.
He lets out a groan, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.
I haven’t told him that I’ve never done this before.
I’ve never been so up close and personal with a man’s dick in my life.
I have no idea what I’m doing, and I hope I don’t make a fool of myself.
I’m running purely on instinct here. But from the way he’s looking at me, the sounds he’s making, and how hard this particular part of him is, I think my instincts are good.
Wrapping my lips around him and swirling the head with my tongue, I sink deeper.
He laces his hand in my hair, not enough to push me down on him, but enough to tug at the strands and set my body alight.
His thighs are taut, and I reach around to grab that gorgeous ass I’d been admiring so much.
I dig my nails into the muscles. He growls on an exhale.
The movement takes him deeper, and he hits the back of my throat.
I hadn’t been expecting it, and I gag, my eyes welling with tears. I pull back, so his dick slips from between my lips.
“God, sorry.” Was that supposed to happen? Can he tell how inexperienced I am?
“It’s okay, Princess,” he tells me, stroking my hair. “You’re doing so well.”