25. Ashlynn
25
ASHLYNN
It’s hard not to take it personal when, the man you’ve always liked kisses you within an inch of your life, then turns and walks away.
Runs, more like.
Okay, sprints.
I might be inexperienced, but even I know that’s not a normal reaction.
Standing on shaky legs, I wander back to my room and get ready for the night. I could go to the studio and run through a few routines, but I’m overstimulated. I never thought there would ever come the day where I would be too buzzed to dance, until Gilbert McKenzie put his lips on mine. Then he fled.
Yet, the lights in his room remain on. I could go after him, demand an explanation. Instead, I opt for an extra long shower instead. The orgasm I manage to give myself using the shower head is very unsatisfying. I pull on a tank top and shorts, and nestle under the covers, tossing and turning, my body still buzzed.
An hour later, I hear a soft knock on my door. Only this time, it’s coming from the walk-in closet. I could ignore him, but I know it’s not a mistake. Yet…
“I’m not in the mood,” I call out, and I won’t pretend my hand isn’t nestled between my legs.
The door slides open anyway. “Ashlynn, I need to explain,” he says, his words are low, lost.
I drape an arm over my eyes. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“I know you don’t, and I’m sorry.”
I groan. “What for?”
“For… You pushed me away.” His voice gets closer. “You’ve always taken a step back. I ignored that. And I?—”
“I kissed you back.”
“You—”
“I like you, Gilbert.”
His footsteps stop. He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to.
I shouldn’t give in to this. I know that I shouldn’t. Yet, there’s something about this that tugs at my heartstrings.
It’s the tone of his voice that gets to me. He sounds a little… desperate. It almost makes me want to give in, to cave and open up for him.
Gosh, this is hard.
“I really, really like you,” I continue, keeping my eyes squeezed shut and my arm over my eyes. “And I know you like me too. So what’s the issue?”
He doesn’t respond to that either.
“Is it me?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
Oh. Hurts to hear him say it out loud, but that’s still too general for my liking. So, I power on. “Am I too inexperienced for your liking?”
“No.”
“Is it my age?”
“God, no.”
“Then what is it?”
He doesn’t respond to that either.
“I don’t understand you, Gilbert.”
“I know.”
“You’re hot one minute, cold the next. I’m not… I refuse to do this dance with you. I still have my pride, and I will not beg you to touch me. Either you want me, or you don’t.”
“It’s not that simple.”
If I had a penny for every time someone said those words to me, I’d be at least five times richer than I already am.
But tonight, I can’t help the scowl that forms. “Try me.”
“You consume me, Ash.”
My core clenches in response, as those four words fill the air between us, settling in the space with a stillness that rocks me to my core.
“You consume me too,” my voice is raspy, wavering slightly.
He doesn’t say anything to that either.
The room stills. My eyes are still closed and I assume he slipped out, went back to his room.
“It’s not fair,” I mumble out loud.
“I know.”
My arm falls off my face, and my eyes squint open. I look up to see Gilbert leaning against the canopy frame, watching me with a lust-filled expression on his face.
Devouring me with his eyes, more like.
The way Gilbert looks at me… I’ve never had anyone look at me that way. His desire is on display, and he doesn’t try to hide it. Not this time, anyway. His eyes trail over the outline of my body hungrily, zeroing in on the not-so-subtle mound in the middle, where my hand is. I swear it makes me even wetter, having the object of my fantasies watching me as I pleasure myself. A needy moan almost slips out, and I bite down on my lip to tamp down on it.
Still, he doesn’t get a pass.
“Why are you still here?” I ask him bluntly.
He shrugs. “Can’t seem to move my feet to leave.”
Well. At least he’s being honest.
I pull my hand out from my shorts, push the covers off and sit up. His expression shifts. Darkens, more like, as more skin is exposed. I lick my lips, wondering if he’s as ready to tear off what little clothing I have on as I’d like to do the same to his. Then, just for good measure, I tap the bed, inviting him to join me.
He shakes his head. “Not so sure that’s a good idea right now.”
“Why not? You’ll just be sitting. Here. Next to me.”
We both knew there will be no ‘sitting next to each other’.
He watches my expression, that same tortured expression mixed with lust cycling through his face. I know what he’s going to say again , but I can’t let him. I want him, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
Save for ballet, that is.
But even that pales in comparison to this ache deep within me. An ache only he can satisfy.
“You said you wanted to explain. So far I don’t hear you doing any of that. You’re all the way over there. Instead of here, where I need you. While you explain.”
A low rumble moves through him. “I can’t let myself touch you again.” His voice is a gruff whisper.
“Fine. Then leave.”
“If I do,” his throat shifts, “I wouldn’t stop.”
“Who says I want you to stop?”
“Ash—”
“How much clearer do I need to be about this?” I force out, cutting him off. “I know what I want, and that’s you. I want you. All of you, every last bit. I wouldn’t be inviting you into my bed if I wasn’t sure.”
Granted, my sexual experience with the opposite sex is admittedly limited — non-existent, in fact — so I’m not sure how these things usually go. But is it usually this hard to get the man you want, whom you know wants you too, to sleep with you?
It shouldn’t, right?
Because he looks like he’s fighting a losing battle with himself.
He pushes off the frame, takes a step toward me. “I’ve never done this before,” he pauses, his pulse flickers erratically in his neck as his hungry eyes feat on my barely clothed body.
“Never done what?” I ask tentatively.
Those hungry, piercing eyes of his flit back to mine, and his throat shifts. “Been with a woman.”
My lust-filled brain is a tad slow on the update, so it takes sixty excruciatingly painful seconds before his meaning finally sinks in.
A million questions race through my mind. Namely: What? How? Why?
But more importantly, HOW?
Instead of voicing any of that, I settle on, “That makes two of us.”
His eyes go feral, and he closes the distance between us in a few short strides. I practically pounce on him the minute his butt hits the bed, searing my lips to his as I plant both thighs on either side of his hips. His hands clamp down on my hips and he pulls me flush against him, capturing my needy whimpers with his mouth. I can feel the hard ridges of his body against mine, his erection flush against my core. My back arches against him, seeking friction and desperate for release.
His hands lower to find my waist and circle around to hold me tighter against him, like he needs me. Like he can’t believe I’m really in his arms.
No wait, that’s me.
I can’t help it, though. My hands trail up and down his taut muscles in his back. I can’t believe I get to touch him as much as I want.
First thing I want to do is lick him. Everywhere. To commit him to memory using only my tongue. My mouth waters at the thought. Flames spread across my skin, and my breathing turns ragged. His does too, and he drops his head so his forehead rests against mine.
For a moment, we just breathe each other in, breathes commingling.
“You kiss like you dance,” he murmurs, his nose brushing lightly against mine.
My brain is foggy, scrambled with need as I ask, “How’s that?”
He laughs, but it’s low and deep in his throat, half a growl, as he steals another kiss. “Like you were born to do so.” He steals another kiss. “Like you were born to lead. To command.”
“And you’ll follow?” I breathe out as he tips my head back gently and takes my exposed neck in his mouth.
“To the very ends of the earth,” he whispers against my neck just before he drags his tongue across the sensitive skin. His movements are tortuously slow, filled with the promise of more.
I want more of him now, and I don’t want to wait any longer. So I feed my fingers through the back of his hair, dragging his mouth back to mine and kiss him again. Harder.
Then we’re moving. Rolling, more like, onto the middle of the bed. I drag my nails through his hair, grazing his scalp. He groans between kisses, which he scatters up my cheek then down my neck. His teeth graze over my skin, and then he sucks down on my neck, leaving a mark. I gasp, and he swirls his tongue over the sensitized flesh.
“Mine,” he rasps, and my pussy clenches in response to his husky tone. Sheer, unadulterated need throbs between my legs. He kisses my neck, then bites hard on my earlobe. “Were you touching yourself when I first came in?”
“Yes.” I could lie, but I don’t see the point in doing so. “A certain someone got me all hot and bothered.”
He lowers his lips to my shoulder, pressing a soft kiss. “Show me.”
It takes some maneuvering, but I manage it. Touching myself isn’t new to me, but I’ve never done so without an audience. I’m not surprised to find the slickness between my folds. What surprises me, though, is how easily I am able to slip three fingers inside.
I lift my fingers to show him, the room’s soft lighting makes my own juices shimmer on my fingertips. He grabs my wrist and brings my fingers to his mouth. I watch as his tongue runs over my fingers, then he closes his lips around all three. His lips spread into a wide grin when he licks them clean, his chest vibrating with a deep, appreciative him.
“I need more.”
“Too many clothes.”
He lets out a hungry chuckle as he pushes off me. “Let’s rectify that, shall we?”
Keeping his eyes on mine, he pulls my shorts off, then my tank top and tosses both somewhere in the room. I feel exposed, vulnerable, so I scoot back to the middle of the bed, and he crawls after me, slowly, like a lion on the prowl. Another hungry groan emanates form him as his eyes hungrily roam all over me, the sound abruptly ceasing as his gaze settles on my tattoo.
He leans in, nudging my legs apart as he uses the pad of his thumb to trace over the raised ink permanently etched onto my skin. His dark gaze lifts to meet mine, the unspoken question in his eyes.
“I carry them with me, everywhere I go,” I tell him.
His throat shifts, and he lowers, trailing hungry kisses down my body. He pauses on my stomach, runs his tongue over it. A low hum rumbles in his chest, the vibrations ricochets through me.
“What was that?”
Those dark, piercing eyes lift to meet mine again, his expression surprisingly tender. “ Vous êtes plus que suffisant, mon amour. Tu es tout pour moi. ”
[ You are more than enough, my love. You are my everything .]
“In English?”
He grins. “I need to taste your pussy.”
I’m ninety-five percent certain that’s not what he said, but I don’t have time to think on it before his hot tongue sears a trail of arousal down my inner thigh then touches my wanting, waiting clit. A moan escapes my lips, and he rewards me by teasing me with his tongue.
He hums and easily, his fingertips easily glide through my wet folds and brush across my swollen clit. With the wide pad of his tongue, he licks me slowly, at the same time teasing me with his fingertips. My thighs spread further, wanting more of what he’s giving. He digs his palms into my inner thighs and seals his lips over my clit. My back arches, my mind reels from the sensation his tongue elicits. I fist the comforter beneath me as his tongue swishes over my clit, then around and then over.
“Mine,” he hums against my pussy as he pushes a finger into me, then a second. Both curl inside me, seeking out that tender spot. My body twitches the moment he finds and presses against it, then proceeds to drag his fingers all over it while torturing me with his tongue. I can’t stop the string of expletives that slip past my lips.
“Gilbert,” I whisper, my voice hoarse, my body twitching as my orgasm barrels into me.
It’s a whirlwind. One second, I can breathe, the next I can barely see. Harsh pellets of pleasure rain down on me. My toes curl as I pulse and throb, coming harder than I knew was possible. He hums and keeps going, his noises of appreciation triggering another one.
“Give me another,” he mutters and swirls his tongue around my clit again and again, increasing his strokes, curling his fingers again. So I do. I’m at his mercy and he knows it. He eats me out until I’m spent, twitching and sweating, a pile of molten orgasmic bliss.
Slowly, the waves ebb and I open my eyes to find Gilbert leaning over me, his dark eyes lined up with mine. So caught up in my own aftermath, I didn’t realize he’d shifted. Then, slowly, while he has my attention captive, he slips his fingers from me and smears my juices on my lips. As if on autopilot, my lips part and suck his fingers into my mouth. I swirl my tongue around the digits, just as he had done to my clit just moments prior.
“Are you on the pill?” he asks, cutting into my lusty haze.
I look down the length of my body and find his hand wrapped around his thick shaft. When did he take off his pants?
Who cares?
What was he saying again?
Ah, yes. The pill.
I shake my head. “I never had a reason to.”
He swallows. “Ash, I?—”
Reaching up, I place a finger to his lips. “No condoms. I don’t want there to be anything between us for our first time.” I don’t know where this sudden boldness is coming from. The logical, responsible part of my brain is screaming that this is a horrible idea, but the rest of my body is calling the shots here. My pussy is in agreement too, still twitching at the thought of being filled by him. “I want to feel everything. I need to feel all of you, at least once. You can pull out.”
He nods and nudges my thighs open, adjusting them before covering my body with his. “This is going to hurt, Ash. I’m sorry.”
In one fluid movement, he’s inside me. Stretching me. The pain is so fierce I cry out and he stills inside of me.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers against my throat, flicking his tongue over the pulse that throbs madly. Then he sears his lips to mine, kissing me as he tenderly holds me until my body gets accustomed to the intrusion.
Which it does. Eventually. But he’s still kissing me. I wriggle beneath him, testing to see if it still hurts. He lets out a sharp hiss. So I rotate my hips and flex down on his throbbing cock as hard as I can manage. He chokes out a laugh and drops his forehead to mine, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Ash,” he groans. “You’re so tight, I’m barely hanging on.”
“So lose it.” I flex again.
“I can’t,” his voice is strained, like the thought of him hurting me pains him.
“I’m okay,” I tell him, even though I’m not. Not completely, anyway. I am fevered, frantic with need, the ache throbbing deep within me begs to be satiated. “I need you to move. Please.”
A low hum rumbles in his chest, then he begins to move, slow and gentle at first. He pulls back enough that his cock slips from me, leaving me feeling empty. It’s almost worse than the pain.
Lifting my head of the pillow, I gaze down between us and see traces of red on his cock as he pulls out halfway. He pushes forward and I watch as the rest of his cock disappear completely inside of me. The sight is something I will never forget.
“You still okay?” he whispers, his eyes trained on me as I watch us. As he does it again.
I nod, my head falling back. “I’m more than okay.” My voice is raspy and breathless, somewhere between a whimper and a moan.
In this moment, I think I’m likely to agree to anything so long as he keeps moving. Which he does. He drops his head to my shoulder and speeds up his thrusts. I lock my ankles behind him, and he waits until I start to thrust back before his steadily become more aggressive. The heat of being stretched by him morphs quickly into a bite of pleasure that makes my pussy even more slick.
How is he so good at this?
It’s not long before the pressure is back, and the urge to chase after the utopia barrels down on me.
“Better,” he rasps as he moves, hitting that tender spot inside me that makes sparks flash inside my head and every sensitive part of my body throb. “So. Much. Better.”
“Better than what?”
“Everything.” His teeth graze over my skin again, and then he sucks down on another section of my neck, before swirling his tongue over the sensitized flesh. “You’re better than everything .”
And I’m going to be covered in hickeys tomorrow. Which is fine by me, because his back is going to be covered in scratches. Fair is fair, right?
He reaches his hand between us, finding my clit easily. He flicks it firmly before softly rubbing it in circles as his cock pounds into me again and again. I can barely remember to breathe, but he’s focused on many things at once. His breaths become more labored and I can tell that he’s struggling with not unleashing his seed inside of me.
Part of me wants to tell him to go for it. To come inside of me.
Apparently, when it comes to him, to this , I have a reckless side. More than anything, I want to watch Gilbert’s cum stream out of my no-longer virgin pussy.
“I change my mind. I want you to come in me.”
His movements slow to a tortuously languorous pace, infusing my body with bliss, holding me right on the edge without letting me tip over. The orgasm is so close I can taste it.
“Gilbert.” A needy whimper slips past my lips. “Please.”
“Take it back.”
“No.”
Against my neck, he chuckles.
Next thing I know, one little pinch of my clit sends me reeling over the edge for the… third time? I’m barely out of the cloud before he brings my knees to my chest, my ankles draped over his shoulders. With a grip that teeters on punishing, his palms dig into my butt cheeks as he pumps harder and harder into me, chanting my name like a prayer as he chases down his own release. I come a fourth time and he fucks me through it, thrusting again and again. Just when I think he’s actually going to do it, he pulls back and his cock slides out of me, slick with my juices. I watch, eyes wide, heart racing, as he pumps his cock, releasing thick, hot ropes of cum onto my stomach.
His chest heaves as he falls forward, bracing himself with his arm on the bed. “You still okay?”
My brain is thoroughly scrambled to say anything, so I nod.
He leans in and kisses me, softly, throughly. His other hand moves to my stomach, rubbing his semen into my skin. Marking me.
“Someday I’ll come inside you,” he whispers into the kiss. “ After you go on the pill and we use up all the condoms in the world.”
Only one of those things will happen, and I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be.
“I’ll be back.” He pushes off me and gets off the bed, and disappears into the bathroom.
I stare at him, of course. At his decadent, tight ass as he saunters away. His cum, sticky and hot, rolls across my stomach. When he returns with two towels in hand, he sits beside me on the bed and carefully wipes away his seed with the soft, warm towel. Then he nudges my thighs apart, refolds the towel before pressing the cool cloth to my still warm, throbbing pussy. The sensation is unpleasant, and I wince.
Leaning in, he presses a kiss to my lips. “Give it a second.”
I do. Try to, anyway. It doesn’t help much.
“How’s that?” he checks in with me. “Better?”
I nod, shake my head, then nod again.
His brow furrows slightly and he stands again, taking both towels with him to the bathroom. It takes longer for him to emerge again, and he’s still completely nude when he does. His cock, thick and heavy, hangs against his thigh. I’m watching him. He tilts his head, his dark eyes roam over me, still lying on the bed. I curl a finger at him, in a come hither manner. He crosses the room, his cock slowly rising again as he walks towards me.
Instead of joining me in bed, he leans down and kisses my nose gently. His hand trails down my stomach, fingertips grazing over my tattoo before continuing on their path of exploration to between my legs. He runs two fingers through my slit, and a content sigh escapes my lips.
“I want to try something else,” he says softly.
“Okay,” is all I can manage.
If that something else involves his hand between my legs, I’m game. I’m sure I have an almost dream-like expression on my face. His hand on my clit feels far better than the towel did.
But shouldn’t that be the other way around?
He wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me up into his arms like I weigh no more than a feather. Instinctively, my legs wrap around his waist, my arms going around his neck. His lips are on mine again, hot, hard, and demanding. He starts walking, but I pay no mind to where he’s taking us. Instead, I sink into his embrace, his hands sliding from my hips to my ass, pulling my body against his thickening cock. I moan, grinding against it.
He chuckles darkly against my lips, the sound shoots straight to my overstimulated clit. “You’re still too sore for the things I want to do to you.”
“Then where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”