22. And Occasionally Stand Up for Yourself
In the short time I’d known Ash, he’d said a lot of sweet things. Stuff that made me feel warm. Stuff that made me feel hot. Stuff that I filed away and hoped I’d never forget because no one had ever talked to me with such nonchalant affection.
But even with all that goodness, none of it came close to what he’d just said.
At the insinuation that I was someone worth caring about…
That I was valued…
That I was worth his protection…
I’d tried to swallow past the razor blades of tenderness that eviscerated my insides and my defenses, but it’d been impossible.
So I gave in.
I kissed him.
And not just a peck. Not even a forceful but closed-mouth one.
My neediness that he saw as a positive and not a personality flaw I needed to fix. My happiness. My excitement. My appreciation. Even my fear and doubts. I put it all into the kiss, hoping it said what my scarred heart was too hesitant to.
That I wanted him.
That I wanted what he offered.
I shook with nerves and the anticipation of what was to come, but when he touched me, it wasn’t to return my kiss.
It was to shift me away from him as he ordered, “Stand up.”
Panic set in, and I worried I’d done the wrong thing. Words tumbled from my mouth. “Sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… Am I supposed to ask?—”
Ash leaned forward and brushed his mouth across mine in a small show of reassurance before it was gone. “What did Daddy tell you to do?”
Holy shit.
Holy shit, shit, shit.
I swallowed hard. “To stand.”
“I don’t like to repeat myself.”
Confused and aroused—and confused by how aroused I was—I scrambled off his lap. He stood at the same time, his face staying even with mine initially until I was upright, and he kept going, forcing me to crane my neck to keep the eye contact.
Two people standing at the same time shouldn’t have been sexy. Nothing about it was inherently erotic.
But that didn’t change the fact that it very much was.
“Panties off.”
Reaching under my dress, I did as he said.
“Sit on the coffee table.”
Since I’d have agreed to investing in a timeshare on Mars if he was the one asking, I sat.
Ash gave a shake of his head. “Lift the back of your skirt and then sit.”
That gave me my first hint of pause. “But you use this table, and I’m…”
His eyes closed, but not in anger or irritation. Even I knew that. When he opened them again, he pushed. “You’re what?” My answer didn’t come quick enough for him because he kept going. “Are you wet for me? Dripping with it?” He reached down and snagged my wrist, pushing it against the massive hard-on that tested the fortitude of his slacks. “Do you need me so bad it hurts?”
My nod was immediate.
“Then sit so Daddy can take care of you. Because if I have to say it again, I’m going to bend you over the table and spank your ass instead.”
I bunched my skirt up and sat, not caring anymore.
I was so soaked, the fabric wouldn’t have offered any barrier anyway.
A pleased smile curved his mouth. “Good girl.”
I wasn’t sure if it was possible to orgasm from two words, but my sex rippled like it was close to it.
Ash reached for my chin, tipping it so I looked up at him. “Unless I say otherwise, you never have to ask to kiss or touch me. I want you to do it. Often. Constantly. Kissing me was the right thing to do. I know how difficult it can be for you to put yourself out there like that, and I appreciate it.” He squeezed in that way that sent another ripple through me. “Which is why Daddy is going to reward you.” He paused. “Remember, say stop and it stops. Always. Got it?”
Since forming a word without working lungs was impossible, I nodded.
The breath that was frozen in my lungs was forced out when I watched Ash drop to his knees in front of me. His hands started at my own knees, spreading them wide and positioning himself between them. He slowly ran his palms up, careful not to drag my dress up in the process. Reaching the top, his thumbs teased my slit before pausing there.
Touching me, but not.
“Lift your dress for me, sunshine. Show me what you’re giving me. Show me what’s mine.”
Ash may have been the one on his knees, but there was no doubt he was still the one in command. If he had just pushed the fabric out of the way, it would’ve been simple. There’d have been no choice. And that was the point. He wasn’t letting me take the easy way out.
He wanted me to make the decision to offer myself. To expose more than just my body. It was terrifying.
It was exhilarating.
I bundled the soft material in my clenched fists and lifted.
There was no pleased smile as a reward. I got something so much better.
An expression of sheer hunger. Not like he was starved and desperate for anything set in front of him. It was different. It was the look of a satisfied man who wanted to eat anyway.
Devour.
And that was exactly what he did.
Using his thumbs, he spread me and bent forward to bury his face between my thighs. The first swipe of his tongue made my ass lift off the table. His groan was muffled as he moved an arm to wrap around me, pulling me tighter to him.
It was good. Amazing.
But it still wasn’t enough. Not for either of us.
His other hand gripped my thigh and tugged me to the edge. I nearly fell back, barely getting an arm behind me to prop myself up. His tongue lapped at my pussy, dipping in to taste and tease before going back to broad strokes. Moving up to my clit, he circled and flicked until I couldn’t stop my hips from rocking.
My legs trembled. My thoughts were a clipped jumble of half-thoughts and base needs. My heavy breaths and whimpers mixed with his groans and the messy, obscene sound of his mouth on me.
When his lips latched on to my clit and he sucked, my free hand shot out to hold him there. I started to drop it away when he shifted back just enough to order, “No. Keep it there.”
I dragged my nails through his short blond hair before holding the back of his head like he wanted.
“Christ, such a good girl with such a perfect little pussy.” He grunted, and once again, rewarded my obedience. Sucking my clit into his mouth, he held it between his teeth and rapidly flicked his tongue.
I had no clue how he did it. How it felt so good. How it was somehow too much and not enough, all at once.
My thighs shook, fighting to close, but his shoulders held them spread as he greedily took the access he gave himself.
His pace was steady and demanding, and the pressure in my lower belly coiled tighter. It built higher and faster than I’d ever been capable of doing with my fingers. There was no chasing. No rearranging and repositioning in frustration. No slow acceleration to a disappointing finale.
I didn’t have to work for it. I didn’t have to do anything at all. I took what Ash gave and had no choice in the matter. And when I came apart from his skillful mouth, it was nothing short of euphoric. Blinding pleasure chased by lava and popping candy mixing in my veins wiped all coherent thought from my mind.
Everything except one word.
Ash.
Only I didn’t just think it.
I knew I’d said it out loud when his husky voice asked, “Who am I?”
I didn’t answer. Not because I didn’t want to. I’d already made my decision that I wanted him and everything that came with it. That I liked it.
But getting my sated brain and my mouth to cooperate enough to say it was another matter altogether.
Ash sat up. Even with me on the table, he was taller. “Camila.”
I’d always hated my name. But the gruff way he said it, like it was a prayer and a warning, burrowed into me. It twisted and tightened in my lower belly, making me feel hot.
Bold.
Sure.
“Who am I?” He pinched my clit between his fingers and another aftershock slashed through me.
“Daddy,” I hissed out, my eyes closing.
I forced my lids open in time to see a look of peaceful contentment filling his expression as he inhaled deeply. He leaned forward, cupping the back of my head to tug me to him.
I turned my head at the last second.
“You got two seconds to tell me why you just turned away from my kiss,” Ash rumbled.
“You just… I… It’s…”
Even though I hadn’t finished three separate sentences, he got what I was trying to say. “Kiss me, or I spit your taste into your mouth.”
I blinked, caught off guard by his threat and my body’s response to it.
He dropped his hold like he was going to squeeze my cheeks to open my mouth, but I moved before he could and kissed him. He took it further, plunging his tongue in to force me to taste it. The sweet tang of my arousal mixed with something that was all Ash.
It wasn’t bad or gross.
I may be on the verge of sensory overload and death by orgasm, but I’m willing to risk it if he keeps doing stuff like that.
Ash pulled away to stand while my arm slowly slid out from behind me until I was flat on my back on a—thankfully sturdy—coffee table.
He just has to give me five minutes.
I got approximately twenty seconds before Ash picked me up. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
I assumed he meant that in a euphemistic kinda way, but after carrying me to the bedroom, he set me down near the bathroom. “Get ready for bed while I lock up the house.”
Wait, what?
I didn’t have the chance to ask before he left the room. I stood and looked at the empty doorway before snapping out of it. It may not have been what I thought we were doing, but a good idea was a good idea.
And after everything that’d happened on the coffee table, I desperately needed a change of clothes.
I grabbed a pair of pajamas and went to the bathroom to get ready. By the time I finished, the light was off, and Ash was already in bed. Shirtless. As in, no shirt. Splashes of colorful tattoos swirled with black and gray ones, but I couldn’t make out any of the details in the dim light from the plug-in. He was typing something on his phone, but as soon as he saw me, he put it down and tossed something my way.
I caught it and unraveled the plain gray tee that was as soft as butter.
“From now on, you sleep in my shirt.”
Since that was fine by me, I went back into the bathroom to switch clothes, and then put my refolded pajamas away before returning to the bed.
I climbed in, feeling more awkward than I had the other couple of times we’d shared a bed. Likely because there was the possibility that our sleeping together could change to sleeping together. I was tense, waiting to see what he’d do.
I didn’t have to wait long. Before I could even pull the covers over me, Ash sat and lifted the tee I wore. One second, my panties were there. The next, they were being tugged down my legs and flung across the room. “In my shirt and only my shirt.”
Surprisingly, that was fine by me, too. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeated, positioning me so I was on my side with my head on his bare chest. He pressed his lips to my forehead. “Go to sleep.”
I was sated and exhausted, but even in the stretching silence, I couldn’t obey him. It wasn’t my mind keeping me awake—though it did keep replaying the Greatest Hits from my day—it was my body.
It was restless.
And curious.
My only serious boyfriend had claimed that men had to orgasm every time they got hard, or their balls could explode. I hadn’t believed it as a sixteen-year-old, and I sure as hell didn’t believe it as a twenty-year-old.
But I was still surprised that Ash was going to sleep without any relief. I’d seen and felt how turned on he’d been. Thick and hard and just as massive as the rest of him.
Thinking of it sent another tremor through me that was part apprehension but mostly arousal.
Ash misread it as a shiver and pulled the blanket higher.
Pulling my lips between my teeth, I barely breathed as I slowly set my hand on his chest near my face.
Then I lowered it to his abs. His many, many, many abs.
It took a few minutes to build the confidence to move again, and even then I didn’t just lower my hand. Nope. As smooth as freaking sandpaper, I feigned an itchy nose and lifted my hand to scratch it. When I set it back down, it landed much lower on his abdomen.
Just a little farther and…
I yelped when Ash’s long fingers wrapped around my wrist, thwarting my progress. His voice was thick and rough. “What exactly are you doing?”
“I, uhh, was just trying to get comfortable,” I lied.
“You wanna touch my dick for comfort, you do it any time. Starting tomorrow.”
“But you made me… and you didn’t…”
Maybe I should finish a sentence.
I didn’t get the chance before Ash spoke, his tone firm and clipped like I’d upset him. “There are gonna be plenty of times when I get you off ’cause I want your scent or taste or just because I can. It’s not quid pro quo.”
“You mean quid pro O,” I muttered.
He chuckled at my bad joke, and his voice was lighter. “Point is, this isn’t transactional. You don’t owe me. You never owe me.”
“I know,” I said even though I didn’t. Not really. In my experience, everyone was out for themselves. I wasn’t used to Ash’s selflessness. But it didn’t matter since that wasn’t the only reason I’d been trying to touch him. A fact I shyly shared. “It wasn’t that I thought I had to. I wanted to.”
“Today was a lot, sunshine. I want you to think it over. Do more research if you need to.”
“All I ever do is think and overthink,” I told him honestly. “And I don’t need to research stuff when I don’t know what applies to you or not. Anything else I need to know, you can teach me because I want to be with you. With all of it. Everything.”
Ash shifted to reach off the bed, and the small light flared brighter. He propped himself up to look down at me. “Be sure you know what you’re agreeing to. Because once you give me you, it’ll take a restraining order to get me away.” Smirking down at me, he shrugged. “And even then…”
I wanted to laugh at his joke, but I couldn’t.
A tiny voice of doubt warned me that the unknown was too dark and scary, like the infinite void of space. And that if I wasn’t careful, I was going to end up alone and lost in it—or in that timeshare on Mars.
That doubt wasn’t new.
The feeling of rightness that overpowered it was. I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt more confident in a decision.
And that certainty came through when I said, “I want you to be my Daddy.”