Chapter 9
Kai
Iwake up before the sun. For a second, I don't know where I am. Then I feel the weight draped over my waist.
A large arm.
Warm.
Heavy.
Ash.
I bury my face into his pillows, enjoying the smell of him.
Then, my eyes jolt open.
I slept. Not passed out. Not stared at my ceiling until three in the morning. Not wandered my apartment counting the hours until dawn.
I slept.
The room is dark except for a thin strip of gray light creeping through the curtains. Ash is behind me. One arm wrapped around my stomach. His face buried against the back of my neck.
His breathing is slow and steady. He's still asleep.
I stay perfectly still.
The sensible thing would be getting up, finding my clothes, and leaving before this gets weird. Instead, I lie there staring at the wall. Because this feels... Dangerous.
Not the way Ash feels dangerous.
Not the way being tied down feels dangerous.
This is worse.
The peace is dangerous.
I can't remember the last time my head was quiet. Even now.
No panic.
No replaying blood on ice.
No William.
Just warmth.
My throat feels tight.
I hate it.
I love it.
I carefully shift onto my back.
Ash makes a low sound in his sleep and immediately pulls me closer, like his body notices me before his brain does.
I freeze.
The arm around my waist tightens.
Possessive.
Instinctive.
My stomach does something uncomfortable.
His hair is everywhere. One dark strand falls across his face. I should move it. I don't, because that's boyfriend behavior. And whatever this is, it definitely isn't that.
Ash's eyes crack open.
It takes him a second to focus. Then he sees me.
“Morning.” His voice is rough from sleep.
I swallow. “Morning.”
Neither of us moves. The silence should be awkward, instead it stretches comfortably between us.
Ash studies me. His gaze drops briefly then returns to my face. “You sleep okay?”
I almost laugh.
Sleep okay. Like that's a thing people normally ask.
“Yeah. I actually slept.” The answer comes out before I can stop it.
Something changes in his expression. Small. Almost impossible to notice. But I see it.
I'm getting disturbingly good at reading him.
“You don't sleep much.”
Not a question.
I stare at the ceiling. “No.”
He is quiet for a moment.
Then— “Nightmares?”
The word lands like a puck to the ribs.
I shrug.
Ash doesn't push. Which somehow makes it worse. People usually push. People want explanations.
Ash just watches me. Waiting. Giving me room. I hate how much I like that.
“Sometimes.”
His thumb brushes once against my side. Barely there. Like he doesn't realize he's doing it.
“Okay.”
That's all he says.
Okay.
Not tell me.
Not why.
Just okay.
The lump in my throat gets bigger.
His hand slides into my hair. My stupid heart immediately starts acting up.
I decide violence is the answer. I shove his shoulder.
He barely moves. “Ow.”
“You're enormous. That didn't hurt.”
“It hurt emotionally.”
“Good.”
Ash's grin widens.
His hand trails up my stomach, pushing my shirt further up my chest.
“Ash?”
Ash buries his face into my neck, his lips pressing against my pulse. “Hm?”
He pinches my nipple, causing a grunt to be pulled from my mouth. “What are you doing?”
“Just shut up,” His hand starts pulling down my briefs with a fiery urgency.
My ass cheeks are still sore from the brutal beating they got but that only seems to communicate to my dick that its time to play.
“Bossy.” I quip, but most of the fight has left me.
“You like it.” Ash bites my throat while his other hand starts working my cock. No shame whatsoever. “Roll over on your side.”
I do as he says, facing away from him.
“I love the way you listen.” Ash groans against my skin.
I hear a plastic container fall over, but I'm too distracted by Ash's lips. I push my ass back against him to feel his cock hard and ready in his sweats.
I go to pull off the shirt.
Ash bites my neck again. “No. Leave it on.”
The head of his cock presses against my entrance. I remember the sharp pain that happened at first last night and stiffen.
Ash continues kissing my neck and massaging my cock while whispering against my skin. “I got you. I got you.”
He slips inside. I gasp, trying to pull my hips away. Ash pulls them back, forcing himself deeper.
“Yeah, you can take me.” His tongue drags up the back of my neck.
This is different than last night. Last night was rough and structured. It was map with a plan. Now it feels like Ash is just using me however he wants. Which I don't mind.
“I'm halfway.”
I groan. Why do people pray for a big cock? I feel like I'm about to be torn in half. I want him to stop…but I don’t say red.
He pinches my nipple. “You can do it. You took me so well last night. Or was that because you were tied up?”
I blush at the memory of my hands bound above me, Ash making me totally useless underneath him. He forces my hips back against him.
We both moan out together.
“Yes, fuck,” Ash says into my skin.
His hips start to move, dragging himself in and out of me so slowly I think I might die.
“Ash,” I whimper. “It hurts.”
“Breathe. Relax.”
The shirt I'm wearing is seemingly riling him up. Every time I go to take it off, he growls at me threateningly until I just give up altogether.
“Sir—mm!”
Ash’s cock hits the swollen place inside me, making me shudder.
His hand drags under my shirt and reaches up to my throat, pressing lightly against my windpipe. “Shh, baby. Let me use you. Last night wasn't enough.”
He can't get enough of me? Fuck, that’s hot.
I let Ash torture me slowly, only speeding up enough to bring me to the edge but never really coming. Ash throws the blankets off of us, sweat slicking our bodies.
His body rolls against me, his shaft feeling more lovely than painful now. But I miss the pain, I miss the panic. I need more.
My hand grabs his around my throat urging him to hold tighter. He purrs as he chokes me, the lack of air sending something euphoric to my brain. I feel his teeth dig into my shoulder.
I guess he got frustrated because he pushes me face first into his pillows and mounts me from behind.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I moan into the pillows as his penis spears into me. “Don't stop.”
“Come on my sheets, Kai.” His hand massages my sore buttocks.
I gasp, my back arching to push myself further against him. His hands grasp my hips so hard that it starts to burn.
It pushes me over the edge. “Ash! Yes! Oh god. Oh god.” My cum leaks from me onto his sheets.
He fucks me harder and harder until I'm seeing stars.
Ash grunts, bowing over my body. I feel something wet drip down my thighs.
I shake my head. “Jesus.”
Ash falls on top of me, careful to carry some weight in his arms so he doesn't squish me.
“Oof,” I chuckle. “You're impossible.”
“And yet...”
I can practically hear the rest of the sentence.
And yet you're still here.
And yet you're filled with my cum.
And yet you're wearing my shirt.
I pull away before he can say any of it. The sudden loss of warmth hits immediately. Ash notices too. His eyes follow me as I climb out of bed. The oversized shirt falls nearly to my thighs.
Ash definitely notices that. His gaze drags down once. Slow. Then back up.
His jaw tightens, something possessive flashes across his face before disappearing.
I snatch my briefs from where he tossed them away hastily.
“Stop looking at me like that.” I walk into his bathroom to clean myself up.
His eyes follow me. “Like what?”
I crack the bathroom door for privacy but also so he can still hear me. “Like you want to eat me. I can't do that for a third time.”
I hear a warm chuckle.
After a few minutes, I come out of the bathroom, walking slightly off kilter.
Ash is still lying naked on his bed, phone in hand. He looks up at me and smiles.
“Coffee?” he asks.
“You drink coffee?”
His expression turns offended. “I actually love coffee.”
“What are you, a barista?” I grin before I can stop myself.
“A hobbyist barista, sure.” Ash gets up pulling up his sweatpants. He leans down to kiss my forehead. “I'll make you a latte.”
Ash's condo is exactly what I expected and somehow not at all. I wander while he makes coffee.
Not because I'm snooping. Because I'm trying to avoid thinking about the fact that I spent the night here. Spent the night. The phrase still feels strange.
The condo is clean. Lived in but slightly sterile. The kind of place someone comes home to every day. The kind of place that belongs to a person instead of existing as a storage unit for their stuff.
The kitchen opens into the living room. A massive television dominates one wall.
There are shelves filled with horror movies. An alarming amount of horror movies. I stop in front of them.
“You own all of these?”
From the kitchen, Ash answers immediately. “I can hear the judgment in your voice.”
“There are at least four movies involving haunted dolls.”
“They're classics.”
I smile despite myself. The smell of coffee drifts through the apartment.
Comfortable. I hate how much I like it.
My attention catches on a framed photo sitting on a nearby shelf. Ash and Dante. Both younger and wearing Raiders jerseys. Dante is grinning at the camera like he just won the lottery. Ash looks vaguely annoyed to be there. Some things never change.
Even younger, Ash still has long dark hair. Still towers over everyone around him.
A second picture sits beside it. This one makes me pause. College graduation. Ash is wearing a cap and gown.
He's in his early twenties, softer somehow. The hard edges haven't settled into place yet. Beside him stands an older man. Gray hair. Broad shoulders. Proud smile. One arm wrapped around Ash's shoulder.
The resemblance isn't obvious at first. But once I see it, I can't stop seeing it.
The eyes. The jaw. The shape of the smile.
Ash never talks about his family. Then again, I don't talk about mine either.
The coffee machine clicks off. I hear Ash moving around the kitchen. Cabinets opening. Mugs setting onto counters. The quiet sounds of someone existing in their own space.
Naturally. Like having me here doesn't register as unusual.
It makes me wonder what it would be like if it stayed normal.