Chapter Thirteen #3
I reach behind, using her arousal to wet two fingers, and then press them against her asshole.
She freezes at the pressure, shock and pain carving lines across her forehead, but I don't let up.
I push past her resistance, twisting my fingers until the tight ring of her ass yields and she's split wide around me.
She moans into my palm, a wild, strangled sound that makes my cock throb harder inside her. I finger her ass, working two, then three fingers inside, stretching her past the point of comfort, past the point where she can pretend she's not made for this.
When she tries to squirm away, I bite her shoulder hard enough to leave a mark.
She sobs, but I know her body. I know she's seconds from coming, her pussy milking my cock, her asshole squeezing my fingers like she's trying to snap them.
I let up on her mouth so I can hear the raw, broken noises spilling out when I add a fourth finger.
"You're a fucking animal," she gasps, tears leaking down her cheeks.
I fuck her harder, angling my cock so she feels every inch. "Say you love it," I snarl, twisting my fingers inside her ass until she's writhing on my lap.
She tries to fight, but the words fall out anyway. "I fucking love it," she whimpers, her voice shredded. "God, Asher, I love it—"
"That's my perfect slut." I fist her hair, yanking her head back so I can watch her face as I pound into her.
I force my thumb in next to my fingers, stretching her wide.
She sobs in ecstasy as I fuck her ass with my entire hand, her tight little body convulsing around me. Her face contorts, raw and wild, the kind of beautiful that only comes from total surrender.
I keep my fist buried deep, reveling in the living heat of her clenched around me. The power is so perfect it nearly makes me lose control.
She's shaking, her nails carving bloody crescents into my shoulders.
"That's it," I whisper, my other hand wrapped in her hair, holding her upright so I can see the tears making tracks down her cheeks. "Be my good little whore and take it all, princess."
Her teeth sink into my hand as her body convulses, her cunt milking my cock. The pain is perfect, a razor edge that cuts through the fog in my head. She comes so fucking hard she blacks out for a second, her head lolling back, her mouth open in a soundless wail.
I follow, my own orgasm tearing through me, hollowing me out. I don't slow down, not even when I'm spilling into her. I fuck her through it, making her take every last drop.
When I finally stop, she's limp in my arms, her face buried in my neck. She shakes, not with fear but with something like relief.
I slip my hand free and wrap my arms around her, holding her tight so she can't escape, not even if she wanted to.
We stay like that, breathing each other in, until the world starts to exist again.
She lifts her head and looks at me, her cheeks flushed, her hair a wild halo around her face. "Feel better?" she whispers.
"Not even a little," I say, nothing but the truth. "But I don't want to let you go."
She laughs, a sweet little sound. "I don't want to go anywhere."
I cup her cheek in my clean hand, forcing her to meet my eyes. "The accident," I say, my voice shaking, "is the second biggest regret of my life."
She blinks, surprised. "The second?"
I nod, unable to look away from her. "I'll never forget the sound you made when we crashed. I'll never forget the way you looked, covered in blood, not moving. I'll never forget holding you while you bled all over me, or the moment when you stopped breathing in my arms."
She reaches up, touching my face. "It wasn't—"
I cut her off. "Don't lie to me, Brielle. I was driving. I'm the one who fucked up."
She shakes her head, tears threatening to fall. "I kissed you. I distracted you. I ruined everything."
"God, you're so fucking stupid," I say, but it comes out broken. "I would have killed anyone who tried to stop you."
She laughs through the tears. "You're not helping."
I stroke her cheek, gentler than I mean to. "I'm not trying to."
We sit in silence, her head on my shoulder, my hands tracing the scars on her back through the thin fabric. She's perfect, even with the reminders of what I did to her. Maybe because of them.
"What's your biggest regret?" she finally asks.
I freeze, caught off guard by the question. I could lie, but she deserves the truth.
"What I said before you kissed me," I say, the words scouring my throat raw. "Teaching you to hate me. Making you think I ever blamed you."
She looks at me, hope and hurt warring in her eyes. "You could have just told me."
"You were supposed to save yourself, princess," I say, shaking my head. "Not end up in my bed anyway. I've tried so fucking hard to make you hate me so you didn't end up here."
She laughs, the sound real for once as it echoes around the cabin, squeezing what's left of my heart in a goddamn vise. "It was always going to be you, Asher."
"Yeah," I say, pulling her close, "maybe it was."
Maybe we're both fighting fate, trying like hell to deny reality. But it's the only fucking thing I know how to do because I won't be the thing that kills her. I won't be the one who destroys her completely. And if she ever knows what I really am, that's precisely what will happen.
We stay like that, locked together at thirty thousand feet, neither of us willing to let go, not even when it hurts.
Especially when it hurts.