18. Ash
Ash
She finally tears her eyes off the lights, her head turning up to face me. A line forms between her brows, her face turning hesitant. I wait.
“What happened to Kai’s hands?” She finally asks.
A heavy breath heaves out of me. Not many things make me feel sad, but that story does. I don’t have it in me to repeat my brother’s trauma.
“Growing up in this life isn’t kind, Angel,” I grunt.
She looks haunted, eyes shimmering with grief for someone she barely knows. For a Devil.
“The Devil’s did that?” She finally asks, her voice but a whisper.
“No,” my voice is gravelly. “My dad, he found them wandering the streets. They were ten. The damage was already done; their souls already blackened.”
My head shakes slightly, trying to dispel the memory. Dead-faced kids, dirty and starving. Ribs sticking out. Blood covered them, head to toe, most of it not theirs...
My dad saw something in them, of course.
Saw the weapons he could manipulate them into.
And as much as I love my brothers, I often wonder if it would have been better if they were left to die on the dark streets that night.
Because my dad offered them nothing but cruelty.
Just a different form of the cruelty that they’d fled from.
My stomach roils at the thought, and my hands curl into fists.
Tears form in her eyes; her compassion and empathy coming in spades. And it reminds me...
“Why were you crying today, Angel?”
The question has been plaguing my mind.
Her eyes drop instantly and she shakes her head. She seems embarrassed, and we can’t have that. I grip her chin, forcing her to face me.
“Tell me,” I demand, growing impatient.
“It’s nothing,” she mutters, shaking her head.
I glare down at her. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll find out. I’ll trace every step you took this morning until I figure out who upset you.”
It sounds like a threat, but it’s not. It’s a promise. I’m the only one who brings tears to her eyes.
She turns her head back to the sparkling city, heaving a sigh. The wind brushes her hair back.
“Do you ever wish you were born into a different family? One with love and patience and noise? A family with life in it?” She gestures to the city, which seems to buzz with life.
She smiles sadly when she looks back at me.
“Sometimes I feel so far from alive, so far from my body, that I worry one day I’ll forget how to come back.
I feel like I’m one more fake smile away from cracking down the middle. ”
From all my information I have on her, I know she doesn’t have many people in her life. She lives isolated, her dad in charge of it all. Apart from her new little friend, Roxanne. So, I already know who to blame. Howard fucking Dally.
I wish I could tell her she won’t have to do that for much longer. That plans I made before I even met her have been set in motion. Instead, I take her hand in mine and lead her back to my bike.
The lookout is quiet, wrapped in the hush of the night, too far up for noise to reach us. Crickets chirp somewhere in the dark, the wind threading softly through the trees as if it's afraid to interrupt us. The city glows, distant and unaware of the turmoil roiling inside me.
Easing her down on her back onto the leather seat, she sinks back into it. Her breath hitches, eyes locked on mine. Nervousness shines in them. Sadness too. But not fear. So fucking brave.
The bike shifts slightly as I yank her pants down her toned legs, throwing them behind me.
I fall forward, hands catching on the low handlebars as my body melds on top of hers.
Our breaths combine, warm against the cool air.
I hover there, my eyes flicking between hers.
Wanting to say a thousand words, like no one will ever put that plastic smile on your face again.
No words come out, though.
The world narrows to the space between us. Just a devil and his angel. I lower myself, my arms caging her in. The bike shifts beneath us, leather creaking under the pressure. Her hands come up, gripping my jacket, fingers digging in like she needs something solid to hold on to.
My forehead drops to hers, and I inhale her scent. After a night of fucking and screaming, she smells different. She smells of vanilla and sex. Leather and fresh air.
She smells like mine.
My lips collide with hers, slow and hard, and she answers just as honestly, mouth moving against mine without hesitation, without performance. No games. No pretending she’s anything other than here with me.
It’s fucking intoxicating.
My fingers grapple with my belt and zipper, fisting my hard cock and pulling it out of my pants. With our lips connected, I slide into her slowly.
So fucking slowly. Making sure her insides remember who she fucking belongs to.
Her mewls against my lips have me twitching inside of her, a groan slipping out at the way she hugs me tightly.
Slowly, I roll my hips into her, fucking her on my bike. I’ve never fucked like this. And she looks like she’s never been fucked like this.
“Yes, Ash... yes!” She whimpers and I pull back to look at her, her body jolting softly with my thrusts.
“You don’t fake a damn thing around me,” I say softly into the night, low and certain. “If I ever see that fake smile of yours again, I’ll tie you up in the factory.” My hips roll into her, her cunt gripping me as I growl out my promise. “And I’ll make you tell me who put it there.”
My nose nuzzles her slender neck, lips right by her ear. “I’ll find that person, and I’ll deliver you their head.”
Her shocked inhale is the sweetest little thing, and I bite down on her lobe, solidifying my promise. By now, she should know I’m not saying these words for the sake of it. Something deep down in me hopes that she gives me a reason to back my words.
My hands drop from the handlebars, skimming up her body, trying to feel every inch of her.
Soft skin and gentle curves. Lifting the baggy shirt, I watch as her small tits bounce every time I drive into her.
Peaked pink nipples arch up at me as she whines into the night.
My lips wrap around one before biting down.
“Ugh,” she gasps, her voice raw and frayed. “Oh my God...”
“Are you gonna come for me, Angel?” I whisper against her soft flesh, biting down on her other nipple.
“I’m gonna...” She grips the front of my leather jacket, knuckles going white. Her pussy flutters around me, and I grunt, about to come inside her if she continues squeezing me the way she is. “I...I...ughhhh, Ash!”
My mouth finds her neck again, my teeth hungry for her skin. Biting down, she screams, her body falling apart beneath me.
“Come for me, Angel. I’ve got you, my pretty little sinner,” I rasp, hips continuing to buck into her. My voice turns strained. “That’s it. That’s fucking it. Give it all to me, Angel. Give me fucking everything...”
Long, slender legs wrap around my waist as she holds onto me for dear life, her body spasming and taut. Wide dark eyes flick down to where we are joined, her teeth latching onto her bottom lip. The sounds pouring out of her are nothing but euphoric.
My hips stutter; the need to fill her cunt with my seed is all-consuming. My forehead falls onto hers; lips twisted into a snarl as I thrust harder into her. With her legs still wrapped around me, I pound into her, fucking her with everything I have left in me.
My balls slap against her, heavy with the need to spill.
“Goddamnit,” I say through clenched teeth. “Even your cunt is holy, Angel.”
When her lips curve into a small smile, one full of mischief and humour, my own grin follows.
Now that’s a fucking smile.
The only fucking smile I ever want to see. A smile that comes with a blushing face and sparkling eyes. A smile that I put there.
Falling into that perfect smile, I spill inside of her, pressing my lips to hers once more as I tumble with her.