Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Isabelle
Asher.
Hellhound’s name is Asher, and he’s kissing me.
Not just kissing me but kissing me. My body reacts in a way it’s never reacted before—coming alive at his touch, at the closeness between the two of us.
Without realizing what I’m doing, I slide my hands up his chest and wrap them around his neck.
I lift up on my tiptoes and press deeper into his body.
Hellhound takes this movement in stride, releases my hair and waist to cup my ass, and lifts me up off my feet, so I have no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist.
Hellhound groans an approval against my mouth and moves deeper into the room until he’s lowering me onto the bed.
Everything seems to spiral out of control from there.
Shirts are yanked off—my doing. Hellhound takes his time removing my shirt and bra.
He uses his mouth along my skin, not leaving an inch of me untouched as he lowers himself until he’s face to face with my breasts.
His eyes lift to meet mine as I watch him through lust-filled eyes.
I draw my lower lip between my teeth at what I see in his heated ones. It’s a look I’ve never seen before.
If I’m honest, this is the first time anything like this has happened that I’m not repulsed and wishing to end it all.
Hellhound flicks his tongue against a hardened nipple and pinches the other. Rotating between the two, he gives both my breast his undivided attention. My body is humming with the need for more. More of him doing just that and other things.
Kissing his way further down my stomach, Hellhound leaves my breasts and uses both hands to grip either side of my waistband. He yanks my leggings down in one swift motion, removing them altogether.
“Hellhound,” I gasp, earning a heated look from him.
“Told you, Bells, you don’t call me that,” he says, hooking my legs in his arms and spreading them enough for him to settle between them. Hellhound leans in and blows out a breath of air against my entrance.
“Asher,” I moan, arching my back.
“Like that, Críona?”
I bite my lower lip and nod in answer.
Taking that as my response, Hellhound dives in, taking his time slowly driving me insane with his touch. Fingers. Mouth. All of it. Something I’ve never felt before starts to take over, and I thrash against the bed.
“Asher, something . . .”
“Ride it out, Críona, come for me,” he orders and flicks his tongue against my clit.
I do as he commands and arch my back as my release takes over and cry out his name.
Breathing heavily, I watch him through little slits as he comes over me and rolls to his side and pulls me into his arms. Tilting his head down, Hellhound captures my lips in a breathy kiss. His hands roam over my exposed skin, sending shivers of pleasure throughout my entire being.
“Fuckin’ like how you come alive for me,” he murmurs, his mouth brushing mine with each word. “Can’t wait to see what you’re like when I’m actually inside you.”
I blush and draw my bottom lip between my teeth.
“How’s that throat?” he asks, brushing a finger lightly along the curve where my neck and shoulder meet.
I clear my throat and answer him. “It hurts, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Hellhound’s eyes flash with anger, but he quickly hides it and nods. “Come on, let’s get you dressed and checked out. Stella is probably already here.”
My brows draw in, and I do something stupid. “Why don’t you talk to your sister?” I blurt out the question.
Hellhound shakes his head and gets up, pulling me with him. “When you trust me with your story, I’ll give you mine. Until then, I’m not answering that question.”
Oh, boy, was that an answer of all answers.
Me tell him all that is me to get all of him or not find out the truth behind him and Stella.
Whatever it is has to be big. But do I really want him to know the ugliness of my past?
Can I trust him to understand? What happens when he finds out and thinks I’m as hideous as my parents are?
I’ve struggled my entire life trying to have a small margin of peace I get with my friends around me.
With him around, it could be stripped from me quicker than ripping a band-aid off a wound.
I squeeze my eyes shut and inwardly shake my head at my own thoughts.
The what ifs and maybe questions aren’t going to get me anywhere.
Sutton and Ivy have both proven this to be not the case.
They both have men now—men who adore them and would do anything for them.
I’ve seen it firsthand with both Reaper and Tombstone, but I don’t think I could handle a man sacrificing himself to my level and bringing me back to where I want nothing more than to be.
I give Hellhound a nod as I redress myself back in my leggings and tank top while under the direct gaze of Hellhound. I meet his gaze briefly before he moves, rounding me and to his closet. He opens the door and pulls out a flannel long-sleeve button-up.
“Put this on over your tank, Críona.”
Without questioning him, I take the shirt and put it on over my arms, savoring the warmth of the thick material as well as the smell of him surrounding me. Not just the room, either. I hold his gaze while doing up a couple of buttons in the middle.
Hellhound takes my hand and pulls me close. “I don’t know what was going through your head just now, but know this, Críona, you’re my woman. I’m not about to let any more shit happen to you. Not if I can help it.”
Again, I nod, only this time, tears threaten to spill down my cheeks. No one, and I mean no one, knows the depths of my struggles, yet here Hellhound is declaring I’m no longer alone. I’m not sure if I should run as far away as I can or burrow into him and hold on tight.