31. Chapter 31
Chapter 31
Scarlet
I ’m so proud of Ace for confronting his demons head-on like that. After the interview, we spent some time with Daisy, just hanging out and killing time before our flights. We grabbed dinner at the airport, and I could see the heaviness lifting off him bit by bit. It’s good to see him like this—smiling a little more—even though the shadow of everything he’d just been through still lingers.
When I saw his mother sitting there in the studio, I honestly thought Ace was going to lose it. The way he froze the second he saw her—I braced myself for a meltdown. But he held it together. Every accusation against him was torn apart, exposed as nothing but lies. To everyone who called him an abuser and waved those hateful signs—fuck you. I can’t help but smile, knowing the “hero” you defended was nothing but a fraud.
In the moments before boarding, Xander, Theo, and Nate all called Ace to check-in. I love how these guys look out for each other. It hurts to think that just a few weeks ago, they were at odds because of me. I never want to be the reason for any more tension between them.
By the time we arrive in New York and the cab pulls up to the hotel, it’s late. The doorman’s warm smile welcomes us as we step through the grand double doors and into the lobby. Ace takes my hand, and we walk through the refined space, the quiet hum of late-night activity surrounding us. We grab the envelope Kit left at the front desk and head down the long corridor.
As we wait for the elevator, Ace turns toward me, his eyes softening. He just watches me for a moment, and I can tell he wants to say something, but it's like he doesn’t know how to get the words out. Before he can even try, the elevator doors slide open, and just like that, the moment is ruined.
Stepping into the elevator, the doors slide shut with a soft hiss, and Ace turns to me with a tenderness I’ve never seen in him before. He pulls me into his arms and presses his lips to mine in a soft, lingering kiss.
When he pulls back, his eyes are softer, vulnerable in a way that speaks louder than any words. He doesn’t say anything, but that look—the raw, genuine side of him—tells me exactly how much I mean to him. In that silent moment, it's as if he's letting me see the part of him he keeps hidden from the world.
He takes a deep breath, swallowing hard, his brows knitting as though he’s wrestling with something deep inside. “I... I love you,” he says at last, his voice barely a whisper. “I fucking love you, Scar.”
A rush of emotions overwhelms me, and tears well in my eyes as I struggle to keep them from spilling over. The depth of what he’s just said—the sincerity in his voice—touches something deep within me.
I look at him, my vision blurred by tears, and smile. “I love you too,” I whisper.
Finally, a single tear escapes, rolling down my cheek, but I don’t bother to wipe it away. Instead, I let it fall, feeling both vulnerable and utterly cherished.
Ace reaches out, gently brushing a tear from my cheek with his thumb. The moment feels timeless, and I can’t help but feel that, in this quiet, intimate space, we’ve both discovered something incredibly precious and real.
The elevator doors slide open and we step out, our fingers still entwined, the warmth of his hand a comfort against mine. The warm, buttery glow of the sconces along the hallway bathes us in a gentle light, creating a cozy cocoon just for us.
As we step into our room and the door closes behind us, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of us in this intimate haven. Ace’s gaze locks onto mine, his eyes blazing with intensity. He steps closer, the heat of his body sending a spark through the space between us, electrifying the air. Time seems to stand still, and in this moment, nothing else matters but the love we’ve just confessed.
His touch is both gentle and commanding as he cups my face, his thumbs tracing along my jawline, sending shivers through me. He leans in, and our lips meet in a slow, teasing kiss that quickly ignites into something urgent and wild.
He pulls me in closer, our mouths moving together like we’re desperate to meld into one. Each stroke of his tongue sends fire racing through my veins, lighting me up from the inside. I can feel his need against me—hot and hard—his cock straining as he presses against me, heightening the urgency of every moment.
My fingers thread into his hair, holding him tight, like I’m afraid to let go. The kiss is full of everything we’ve been holding back. Every touch, every breath, only drives me deeper into him. The need between us is unbearable. I need him. All of him.
He grips the edge of my shirt and, without hesitation, pulls it off in one swift motion, along with my bra. I gasp as he takes my nipple into his mouth, each touch sending waves of pleasure rippling through my body. In seconds, he unbuttons my jeans and slides them down my legs, leaving me fully exposed.
“Christ,” he breathes, his eyes burning with desire as they roam over my naked form. His fingers trace the curve of my breast, gliding over my skin until they rest possessively on my hip. “You’re so fucking perfect, Scar.”
I tug at the waistband of his jeans, urgency thrumming in my veins. “Get these off now,” I demand, my voice low and filled with need.
A sexy grin curls at the corner of his mouth as he replies, “I love it when you fucking take control. I love it when you’re so fucking dirty.” He lifts me up effortlessly, guiding me toward the bed, then sets me on my feet.
“Lay down,” I command, gesturing to the bed.
He lifts his hands, tugging his shirt over his head, then leans back on his elbows, his eyes fixed on me, watching my every move. I undo the button and zipper on his jeans, sliding them down slowly along with his boxers, revealing his hard cock as it springs free, lightly grazing his stomach.
Lying back, he threads his fingers behind his head, his gaze intense and unwavering. I can’t help but admire the ink sprawled across his chest, the designs trailing up over both shoulders. The intricate patterns and musical notes are mesmerizing, each telling a story that only he knows. But my eyes always gravitate to the skull in the center of his chest, its bony fingers wrapped around it, obscuring its eye sockets. It feels like a haunting symbol of his past, a reminder of the battles he has endured.
I’ve always wanted to ask him about it, to understand what it means, but I hesitated, not wanting to bring up painful memories. Now that he’s more open and facing his demons, I decide to take a chance. “Is this the pain you’ve carried?” I ask, my fingers softly tracing the long, bony fingers of the tattoo.
When he doesn’t answer, I glance up and catch him watching my fingers glide across his skin, his gaze intense. I can feel the scars beneath the ink—each one a reminder of his past struggles, like the cigarette burns on his arms he tries so hard to hide.
“Yeah,” he finally replies, his voice low and raw. “It’s how I’ve always felt. Like no matter how hard I tried, those fingers always probed into my thoughts, dragging me back into that dark world.”
As my fingers trace down his chest, I notice goosebumps rising under my touch. I slide my hands lower, exploring his abdomen, then wrap my fingers around his cock, giving him a soft stroke. Feeling bold, I lean in closer, my tongue flicking out to taste the milky drop on the tip. The moan that comes from him sends a thrill through me, fueling my desire.
His hands lower to his sides, fingers clenching tightly as if he’s battling the urge to tangle them in my hair and command me to open my mouth so he can fuck it. I watch his nostrils flare as I repeat the teasing action.
“Fuck, Scar,” he breathes, his voice dripping with affection.
A surprised squeal escapes me as he suddenly pulls me on top of him, his lips crashing against mine in a scorching kiss. The heat of his mouth sparks a hunger inside me, one I can’t ignore. I bite his bottom lip softly, urging for more. His kiss grows deeper, intense and commanding, his fingers splaying against my neck while the other hand grips my hip, holding me still as he takes what he craves.
A gentle pinch on my nipple makes me gasp, urging me to grind against him, lost in the heat of the moment. I'm so aroused that I could scream. Gasping for air, I pull back from the kiss and whisper, “I need you to fuck me, Ace. Fuck me now.”
“You don’t have to ask, just take it, Scar,” he growls, his voice thick with desire. “It’s fucking yours whenever you want it.”
His words make me grind across his hard cock. Oh, my God. Every bump and vein is perfectly designed to drive me wild with pleasure.
“Christ,” he breathes, his voice low and filled with lust. “Your pretty pussy is drenching my cock.” The heat in his eyes sharpens as he reaches down and grips himself, his gaze locked on me. “Rub it on your clit,” he commands, his voice rough.
Wrapping my fingers around him, I take control, savoring the power I have over him. His eyes drop, fixed on my hand. “That’s it,” he whispers, teeth clenched as I trace the sensitive area.
A moan slips from my lips as I indulge further, getting lost in the sensation.
“Fuck, I bet that feels good,” he says.
“So fucking good,” I moan, but it’s not just the sensations of his cock and piercing that have me entranced. It’s the way he watches me, his eyes dark with desire, lips parted just enough to reveal his hunger.
I quicken my pace, rubbing his cock against my clit, the overwhelming pleasure building inside me. I’m so incredibly wet, teetering on the edge of my release.
“Fuck, I can feel you throbbing on my cock,” he breathes, tilting his head back, eyes closing as he loses himself in the moment. His hands grip my hips hard, anchoring me to him.
And now I want it even more. I need him inside me like I need my next breath. “I need your cock in me when I come,” I confess, the words spilling from my lips with desperation.
He snaps his eyes open and sits up, pulling me closer with an arm wrapped around my lower back. His deep, husky voice does something to me when he whispers, “I want my cock inside you too.”
Goosebumps ripple across my skin. Our eyes lock as he slowly enters me, stretching me to accommodate every hard inch of him.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he murmurs, sliding his thumb down to tease my clit while I ride him.
His feral kiss ignites something in me, each thrust is pure bliss. Then it happens spectacularly. The orgasm hits like a tidal wave, crashing over me in a rush of intense pleasure. Fuck it feels so good. I gasp, pleasure erupting, my back arching, and every nerve-ending screaming.
“Oh my God,” I gasp, lost in the overwhelming pleasure.
A deep growl rumbles in his throat as my pussy tightens around him. His forehead rests against mine, his strong chest rising and falling, as if he’s just experienced his own release. In a blissful haze, I lean into him.
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me so close that there’s no space left between us. The intensity of what I’m feeling is almost overwhelming. His breath brushes my skin, warm and inviting, as our foreheads remain pressed together. I can see his restraint etched on his face, the way his fingers tangle in my hair.
My heart races as I take in every detail of his face—the sharp angles, the heat radiating from his eyes, and the palpable torment etched into his features. It’s clear that holding himself still, while buried deep inside me, and not moving is a battle he’s barely winning. Yet, despite the struggle, he fights against the overwhelming urge, determined to satisfy my every need.
I lean in closer, my lips brushing against the shell of his ear, my breath a sultry whisper. “I need you to fuck me.”
That’s all it takes to shatter his restraint. His hands grip my ass, desire blazing in his eyes, and abruptly withdraws, leaving me breathless and aching from the sudden emptiness.
In an instant, I’m lying on my back, and the look in his eyes transforms into something primal—like a predator closing in on its prey.
“Spread your fucking legs,” he commands.
The moment I obey, he leans in, his skilled tongue finding its way to my most sensitive spot, drawing soft moans from me. His fingers slide up my body, then teasing my nipples, sending shivers of pleasure through me that almost make me purr. It’s as if he knows my body intimately, every pleasure point mapped out in his mind.
With a playful touch of his tongue, he circles my clit. I grow impatient, instinctively grinding my hips against his face, desperate for more. “Ace, please, just fuck me,” I beg, my voice thick with need.
With a wicked grin that spreads across his face, he lets out a chuckle. “In a fucking minute,” he replies, his tone low and seductive. He’s teasing me, making me work for it, and I can feel the heat rising in my core.
Frustrated, I let out a groan. His laughter sends pleasurable vibrations through me as he kisses my pussy, and I bite my bottom lip, my gaze locked on him. I can’t focus on anything except the way his tongue circles my clit and his fingers thrust deep inside me.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he remarks, pulling his hand away and aligning the tip of his cock with my entrance. “Take a deep breath,” he whispers, leaning down to shower tender kisses along my stomach. Then, with a swift thrust, he enters, filling me completely.
“Oh, fuck,” I gasp, my mouth falling open in surprise.
Rising onto his knees, he grips my hips with a firm, possessive hold. I shiver with anticipation as he pulls back, then thrusts into me, each movement driving deeper. His hold is so tight, I can already feel the promise of marks left behind. The way he moves, the way he takes control, leaves my legs trembling.
“Ace,” I whisper, my hand reaching out to him, overwhelmed by an insatiable longing I can hardly comprehend. All I know is that my desire for him eclipses anything I've ever craved before.
His gaze is intense, utterly captivating, locking me in its grip. The depth of his stare does something to me.
With each thrust, as he drives into me again and again, the rhythm builds, and the pleasure intensifies, making my toes curl with every movement. I lift my hips, eagerly meeting his deep thrusts, enhancing our fiery dance. With each penetration, I surrender to the rhythm, completely losing myself in the sensation. My hands glide down his back, reveling in the strength of his muscles as they flex and ripple with every thrust.
“Ace,” I moan, the sound spilling from my lips like a desperate plea, urging him to push deeper, to take me higher.
Each time he thrusts into me, I feel myself coming apart, his presence sinking deep into my core. He’s never fucked me like this before; it’s as if he’s starving for my touch, yet can’t fully satisfy his craving.
As my fingers trace the stubble on his jawline, admiring his breathtaking beauty, his gaze meets mine, burning with an intensity that takes my breath away. He’s not just physically inside me; this goes deeper, so much more profound. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted—this undeniable bond between us. Ace Roberts doesn’t just fuck me; he worships me with every part of him, and I can feel the weight of that devotion.
As our fingers intertwine, he lifts my hand above my head, pinning it there with a possessive grip. His other hand roams between us, teasing my sensitive clit with tantalizing strokes. Every deep thrust pulls another whimper from me, sending me spiraling closer to the edge.
I part my lips, desperate to plead for a moment’s respite, but instead, a sultry moan escapes me. I bite down on my bottom lip, trying to stifle the sounds pouring from me, but it’s pointless. The tension builds within me, my orgasm looming on the horizon.
“Fucking hell,” he groans.
His next deep thrust catches me by surprise, his piercing hitting that perfect sweet spot inside me, shattering the fragile thread of control I’ve been holding onto. I tumble over the edge, a wave of pleasure surging through me, my primal moan filling the room as I drown in the intensity of my orgasm.
Then, Ace suddenly freezes, concern flickering across his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice filled with worry.
I pant, breathless and overwhelmed, struggling to find the words to express just how incredible I feel. Instead, I can only manage a blissful smile, my eyes sparkling with unspoken joy.
He thrusts back in and out of me, and I watch as pleasure twists his features, each shudder signaling the oncoming storm of his release. With each deep thrust, he picks up the pace, fucking me with an urgency that makes my body ache for more, as if he’s desperate to drown himself in every inch of me. I feel him throb inside me, and then he finally comes, his release filling me.
As he collapses against me, I feel his hot breath against my chest, and I lovingly thread my fingers through his damp hair, pulling him in closer, craving his warmth. He grips me tightly, unwilling to let go as he catches his breath, savoring the moment we’ve just shared, our bodies still entwined in a haze of raw desire.
His hand glides over my ribs, teasingly grazing the curve of my breast before settling over my heart, which thunders beneath his touch.
"Who knew a woman named Scar would have the power to heal my fucked up scars," he murmurs against my skin.
He presses a soft, lingering kiss right over the place where my heart races, sealing the moment with his devotion.