CHAPTER EIGHTEEN #4
His tongue slid against mine, all hunger and fury and need, and the bond roared to life between us, burning gold-red through every inch of my body.
I pulled back, looking into his eyes; gods, he was perfect and he was mine. I kissed the tears from his cheek, and he looked at me so tenderly before crashing his lips against mine again.
I gasped into his mouth, as he lifted me, one arm wrapping under my thighs as he pressed me up against the supply closet wall.
A mop clattered to the ground, the wooden handle echoing against the stone, but neither of us cared.
My fingers found the hem of his shirt and shoved it up, nails dragging across his skin—he hissed against my neck, the sound primal.
His length pressed against me through the thin lace, and he groaned at the friction.
I immediately went for his pants, unbuttoning his leathers with trembling hands.
He helped me, moving my underwear to the side with frantic efficiency.
I took his length and ground it between my folds—not inside, not yet—but fuck me, I wanted to scream.
His hand came over my mouth, muffling my hitching breaths while tears still clung to both our faces.
"You're playing with fire," he growled into my ear, his voice thick and low.
"I am fire," I panted, biting his jaw.
He growled—an actual, animalistic sound—and his shadows curled around my legs like they wanted in on it.
My braids came undone as his fingers tangled in my hair.
My shirt was halfway off, his hand sliding up from my stomach as every nerve in me screamed for his touch.
His mouth dropped to my throat, and I arched into him, fire and shadow crashing in waves between us.
"Careful, firecracker," he whispered against my skin, his voice dark and wrecked. "I'll make you scream my name until the gods fear for your soul."
I shattered. My clit was on fire every time his head ground into it; I needed him inside me, needed to be filled by the storm.
And then—DING-DING-DING.
The academy bell screeched overhead like the cruelest sound ever invented. We froze, breathing hard, the moment hanging in the air like lightning waiting for a strike. Asher's forehead pressed to mine, his grip still firm around my thighs.
"…Fucking hate that bell," he muttered.
He whipped his length back inside his pants, but as he set me down, he took two fingers and shoved them deep inside me.
My eyes widened and my head fell back against the shelves. When he pulled them out, I let out a broken whimper.
He brought his glistening fingers to his mouth and grinned.
Gods, I flushed crimson at the sight.
"Gods, you taste like sin."
He reached down, fixing my underwear and smoothing my top before kissing my forehead.
He placed his hands on either side of my head on the shelving, staring at me intently.
We were still breathing like we'd just fought for our lives.
My hands trembled, my hair was a wild nest, and my skin was flushed bright pink.
Asher just stood there watching me, as if he hadn't just nearly wrecked both of us against a mop shelf.
Without a word, he smoothed a stray strand of hair back behind my ear and wiped a smudge of ash from my cheek with his thumb.
He was gentle—too gentle—like he was touching something already breaking. He cursed softly and stepped back.
He pulled his shirt back on, the shadows curling low and slow beneath his skin, and suddenly, I remembered who he was. Who we were. I stepped back, my legs still shaking.
"I can't play games anymore," I said quietly, my voice rough and small. "Not with you. Not when it feels like this."
He stilled, his silver eyes locking onto mine.
"No walls," I added, my voice gaining strength. "If you want this—if you want me—you don't get to pull me in and shut me out. Not again."
For a heartbeat, he didn't speak.
The shadows shimmered at his feet like they were holding their breath.
Then he stepped forward, slow and deliberate. His hand lifted, his thumb grazing my chin, guiding my face up to meet his.
"I got too close," he whispered, the words raw and wrecked.
My breath caught.
"I didn't know how to stop it," he continued, his voice cracking. "I didn't want to lose you, Ava. So I thought if I pushed you away—made you hate me—maybe it wouldn't hurt as much."
I blinked, tears prickling my eyes again. He wasn't done.
"But I could feel you falling." He exhaled a hard, jagged breath. "And gods—I was falling too. So fast it fucking scared me."
My lips parted, but no sound came out.
His forehead pressed back against mine, his voice barely a whisper.
"And now I can't push you away anymore. Because I'm falling, Ava.
I'm falling hard. And if I ever lose you…" He swallowed, the muscle in his jaw jumping. “I’ll drown the fucking world in darkness if that’s what it takes to bring you back.”
Silence stretched between us, filled only by our ragged breathing and the thunder of my heartbeat.
The bond flared like a second heartbeat. For once, his walls were gone. Completely gone. I leaned into him, my fingers curling into his shirt, and whispered back.
"Then don't lose me."
His lips hovered just over mine, the scent of spice and rain-washed lightning intoxicating me.
"I won't," he breathed.
And I believed him. Gods help me—I believed him.