Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
ASPEN
I made it to my apartment with a few spare minutes to tidy up. Not that I needed it. My apartment always stayed clean. Other than cooking, I didn’t do much there, and if I did, I picked up immediately after.
The intercom dinged, and when I saw the familiar dark hair and scruff, I let him up. Before unlocking the door, I tossed a folded blanket on the back of the couch for the extra padding. It’d been a while since I’d called him over, but I remembered the way the edge dug into my hips.
“Aspen,” he greeted.
I took a moment to admire the square jaw and full lips that drove the world wild. Although it was probably the dark promises of sin that lurked in the depths of his eyes that really pushed them over the edge. But as attractive as he was, his looks weren’t why I called him.
“Ash.”
“Am I allowed to come in?”
“By all means…” I stepped back, gesturing inside before shutting the door.
As soon as I turned back to him, he closed the gap and leaned down. Before his mouth could connect with mine, I backed up with narrowed eyes. He pursed his lips and sighed, but didn’t argue. We’d done this so many times before that we moved like a choreographed dance.
I turned toward the couch and unfastened my pants.
He undid his as he followed behind.
I bent over the back and tugged my pants down for just enough access.
He slid on a condom.
I set a timer for five minutes.
We began.
Except this time, instead of the blunt head of his cock at my entrance, his warm breath brushed against me.
I jerked upright and looked over my shoulder. “No. That’s not how this works, and you know it.”
He peered up with a devious smirk, his long fingers stroking his length. “If you’d let me eat you out, I could get you off.”
Getting off wasn’t the point. A brief moment of connection and relieving the mounting tension while still maintaining control was the point. I’d dismissed sex for pleasure a long time ago. “Do you want to fuck or not? Because, if not, then you can just leave.”
“Oh, I definitely want to fuck,” he assured, standing to his full height. “I am not opposed to getting my dick wet and getting off after. I just worry you’re missing out. I’m great at eating pussy and hate that you don’t get to experience all the other skills I have to offer.”
“I don’t need your other skills. I need you to fuck me.”
He pressed me down until I rested against the back of the couch again, following me down to reach past and reset the timer. “I can definitely do that,” he assured, his lips brushing against my ear. “But I get a full five minutes inside you.”
With that, he pushed all the way inside, releasing a deep groan of pleasure. I bit back my own cry at the last-minute, managing to keep it to a whimper. After a few more thrusts in and out, he stood tall and gripped my hips, holding me in place while he fucked me like a freight train.
Despite my efforts to zone out and lose myself in the rhythmic slap of his hips against mine, I still found myself fisting the couch and focusing on even, controlled breaths that wouldn’t sound too needy. I found myself focusing on the building pressure between my thighs and making sure it didn’t get too big. I found myself focusing on trying to decide between letting my breasts brush against the couch or not, because it sent a fiery shot to my core.
I found myself keeping a leash on my control rather than letting go like I used to when I was younger—like I said I wanted to now. Yet, I never could. Whenever I edged too close to that wild abandon, my chest clenched, and I yanked back to solid ground.
“Oh, fuck. Princess. You feel so fucking good,” he moaned, the words deep and rough.
Princess.
The name stroked across my skin, bringing with it an image of dark eyes above an arrogant smirk and sharp features cast in shadow.
I would love to see your mouth get the best of something, princess.
The words ignited in my chest. My nipples pulled tight and the friction against the couch became too much. I pushed off, but the force of Ash’s thrusts caused my breasts to bounce in my bra with just enough movement to create a torturous amount of friction.
My mind turned traitorous, conjuring an image of me in the shadows with him, kneeling between his long legs while he sat back on the leather couch, staring at me with his unfaltering, arrogant control.
A deep moan slipped free before I could stop it.
“That’s it, Aspen. Be a good little girl and come on my cock for me.”
I should have stopped him right then. We didn’t talk while we fucked. But I was too scared to open my lips in fear that uncontrolled pleasure would pour out.
I should have reprimanded him for his demeaning command, but all I could think about was when Lucian called me a little girl.
No. No.
I didn’t want to think about him. He was nothing to me.
But…no matter my protests, flashes of his dark arrogance pushed me closer to the edge.
Part of me wanted to embrace it—embrace the building sensation. Part of me wanted to let it grow and consume me. But the more it grew, it didn’t consume me—it pressed in on me, crushing me. The thrum between my legs combatted with my racing heart until I fought to get a hold of my own body.
All of a sudden, our coupling turned from me trying to ease my tension from earlier to panic creeping in at the thought of orgasming in front of someone. Something I hadn’t done since I was a teenager when it had caused damaging effects.
No.
I fisted my hand tighter, searching for control.
But the memory of Lucian’s air of dominance mocked my control—lured me into handing it over to him.
No.
I. Had. Control.
I glanced at the timer. Twenty-more seconds.
I was in control.
Lucian Daire was nothing to me. Nothing.
“Oh, fuck yes, princess. Come for me.”
Princess.
Another moan.
I counted down the last ten seconds.
Nine. Eight. Seven.
A whimper.
Five. Four. Three.
A pulse of pleasure down my spine.
Ding. Ding. Ding.
I jerked forward, dislodging Ash with a gasp of relief.
Without missing a beat, he gripped himself and jerked off until he came into his hand. He leaned into me, catching his breath. Usually, I’d push him away as soon as he finished, but I needed a minute to collect myself. Relief hit me so hard when the timer sounded that I thought my legs would give out.
“I’m gonna clean up,” Ash muttered. He placed a chaste kiss to the back of my head and moved away. The bathroom door closed, and I took one last deep breath before peeling myself from the couch. Once I stopped trembling, I pulled up my pants, ignoring the lingering shiver that ran down my spine when my legs shifted tight around my core.
I stared at nothing, frozen in the middle of my living room, recounting how I almost orgasmed. The whole reason I called Ash was to numb my mind for all of five minutes and enjoy the companionship for however long he stayed. No commitment. No strong emotions that needed controlling. No nothing.
Until now. Now, finding control consumed my thoughts until the whole experience increased my anxiety instead of numbing it.
I squeezed my eyes shut and took a breath, reminding myself that when push came to shove, I always held on to my control. This was a fluke. A one-off that wouldn’t happen again.
I had remained in control, and I always would.
For how long?
I shook my head, shoving the whispering doubt aside.
I was in control, I promised myself, ignoring the fatigue the reminder draped across my shoulders.
Ash reappeared, looking just as devilish as when he arrived.
“Want to stay for dinner?” I asked, heading to the kitchen. I worried that if he left, my mind would spiral in the silence. “I’ve got a chicken and rice dish prepped and there’s enough for two.”
“I’m a growing boy, so I won’t turn down a meal.” He fell back into the corner of the couch and patted his stomach.
“I’m pretty sure you’re done growing, but you guys always eat enough for a whole army. Probably all the energy you burn in your shows. If I ate like that, I’d be the size of a whale.”
“I don’t know, Aspen. I’ve seen you pack away your fair share of food.”
“I’m a growing girl,” I joked back.
He laughed and grabbed the remote from the side table basket, turning on a music station we both liked. While I got dinner ready, he thumbed through his phone.
I’d known Ash since we first signed him and his band, Haunted Obsession, to Quinn Music Group. We’d been teenagers and hadn’t seen much of each other since I’d been in college, and Shiloh managed their group. Once I landed the band manager position, she passed the role on to me, and the rest was history.
“It’s ready,” I called, setting the plates on the counter.
“Yes,” he moaned. “I’m starving and it smells so good.”
“It’s one of my favorites that my mom taught me how to make.”
“Even better. That means it’s authentic.” He smiled and bobbed his brows.
We grabbed our plates and sat at the table to eat in silence until he’d almost finished.
“You know, you seemed closer than usual to coming. Definitely wetter. I had a lot of lady-lube to jerk off with.”
I coughed, clearing the bite that tried to go down the wrong pipe. “Jesus, Ash.”
“What? I’m just pointing out the obvious.” He laughed, holding his hands up. “It made me wonder what was different.”
“Nothing was different.”
He scoffed, not buying my denial. “As much as I’d like to think it was me, I can only do so much within the rules you’ve set up. So, maybe it’s someone else?” he asked playfully, wagging his brows. “You imagining someone else behind you other than me?”
Instead of another objection he’d see through, I rolled my eyes and stuffed a bite in my mouth. He went back to eating, and I assumed that ended the question portion of the night—but I was wrong.
“Why do you do this with me, anyway? It’d probably put more of a kink in your career than mine if anyone found out. So, why risk it?”
He wasn’t wrong. Contrary to popular belief, I didn’t get any special treatment as the owner’s daughter, and if someone found out I was fucking Ash, they’d remove me from my position as the A I denied like I was in some kind of mental battle with myself.
“Men always ruffle my feathers with their arrogance and misogynistic ideas,” I explained. “This man was nothing new—nothing different.”
“Oh, this feels awfully different, Aspen,” Ash rebutted with tipped lips before they pinched tight. “I never knew you were one to lie to yourself about what’s really going on.”
“I don’t.” He laughed again, pushing me to defend myself harder. “I do not lie about my reality.”
“Of course not,” he assured with false sincerity, pulling himself together.
But I saw the lingering glint in his eyes.
He was wrong.
Completely.
Lucian Daire did not ruffle my feathers, and I would not be thinking about him ever again.