22. Home
Home
It takes what feels like years for my mind to clear the smoky fog of orgasm. I’ve never experienced something that powerful before.
Or that quick. I don’t think I lasted more than a fucking minute.
My hands unclench from the bedspread below me and slide onto his chest and into his hair. His semi-short dark hair that’s softer than angel wings.
Orgasms make me mushy.
He makes me mushy.
Ash is triumphant. His eyes glitter like melted forests and pride emanates from his skin.
“Do you need to go wipe your face?” I ask, finally getting my voice back. I won’t be surprised if I’m hoarse for a few days if the night continues like this.
His beard is almost dripping with the evidence of how much he made me feel. “Why the fuck would I ever do that? I earned this.”
“Whatever floats your boat, bruh.”
“Do not call me ‘bruh’ in bed, woman.” He narrows his eyes. “Matter of fact, don’t ever call me ‘bruh.’”
I stretch languorously, enjoying the way his eyes trail along my skin, unable to choose where to look. “Whatever should I call you then?”
“Ash.” He presses a kiss to my belly button. “Sweetheart.” A kiss to the center of my chest. “Boyfriend.” A kiss to my collarbone. “Soulmate.” A kiss to my lips. So quick I barely have time to respond.
“I don’t—” I swallow the lump of emotion threatening to break through. “I don’t remember agreeing to all that.”
His smile is soft, understanding. “I’m yours, Goldilocks, and you’re mine. Even if you run your perfectly toned ass out of here in the morning and deny us all over again. You and me? We’re inevitable. I’m never going to give up on you.”
Tears well up in my eyes. “Why not?”
“Because despite everything, I know you. I know your heart. And you are more than I ever could have imagined. You are the home I never knew I was looking for.”
“I’ve never been someone’s home,” I whisper, tears spilling onto my cheeks.
A soft chuckle escapes him. “Silly woman. That’s because you’re mine.”
I drag him down, desperation for physical connection overriding any panic that would have emerged from that statement. I want to show him what I’m not ready to voice yet.
That he’s my home, too.
He meets me passion for passion until we’re both panting and ripping at the last of his clothes.
I pause at the sight of him. I knew he was large from the outline in the sweatpants, but the man is actually massive. The largest I’ve seen by at least two inches.
He runs a hand over his cock, gathering the pre-cum at the tip and smoothing it down over the skin. “Something on your mind?”
“No wonder your ego is huge.”
He barks a laugh, opposite hand roaming over my skin. “Appreciate it.”
I pull him back down to me, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades as he teases me, slicking his cock with each slippery slide through my cunt. The very tip of his cock catches on my opening for just a moment before sliding past and bumping my clit again.
The palm of his hand smooths up the back of my thigh, pulling my leg up and against my chest. “Need me to put a condom on?”
I bite my lip at the way he slides again, electric hum zipping up my skin. “No. I’m on the pill.”
“Thank fuck.”
Instead of the dick he’s been teasing me with, I get two fingers curled inside stroking the spot he discovered earlier. Every thrust takes me higher and further away from what I want.
“Just fuck me already, you teasing bastard!”
He just smiles, totally unaffected by my sass. Thankfully he obeys and removes his fingers, lining up with a hand on the base of his cock.
The initial push burns with how thick he is, and then . . . in a moment, my mind expands, and I can not only feel what I feel, but what Ash is feeling.
Fuck. What’s happening?
The way my cunt wraps around him, how my fingers pull at his hair, how soft my skin is against his chest.
I feel everything.
“I wish you could see, baby. I wish you could see how fucking perfect we look together,” he says, pushing a few more inches in.
The pain and pleasure melt together into a swirling flame that has me pushing my hips to force the rest of him inside me.
“Shit. Wait. C’mere.” In a move I don’t fully register, Ash pulls out, turns me around, and lifts me above his lap.
I open my eyes to a floor-length mirror. I’m in front hovering over Ash’s glistening length, body taut and squirming. He’s behind, his arm muscles bulging as he’s holding me suspended.
“Watch while you take me, Goldilocks. Watch how perfectly we fit.”
Slowly, he lines us up and lowers me onto him. He feels even bigger somehow from this angle, and I can’t rip my eyes away from the sight of him disappearing inside me.
He’s right. We look perfect.
“If only the whole world could see how stunning you are when you stretch around me. When you pull me in.” He builds a steady rhythm, lifting me up and down as I surrender to the overwhelming pleasure.
“If only everyone could see how completely you belong to me. No one would ever think to come near you again.”
I wrap my hand around the back of his head as he bites at my neck, leaving marks I’ll pretend to hate tomorrow.
The scent of sex fills the air, the sounds of our bodies and moans overwhelming the sounds of the world around us.
His fingers come down my chest and twirl around my clit, making my body jerk against his. “I wouldn’t do that, though. God, I could never handle anyone seeing you like this. Promise me no one will.”
I nod, knowing it’s true. “Promise.”
“Good girl. Now cum for me. For us.”
I can only obey. My body erupts in orgasm, heat swirling through every inch of me until I scream. My orgasm triggers his, and the feel of it throws me into another, smaller orgasm.
Witchy shit for the win.
His hands smooth over me as we come down, anchoring me to him and to the present.
“Holy shit,” I murmur, cum dripping onto the base of his cock and the blanket beneath us. “Holy fucking shit.”
“You can say that again,” he chuckles, breathless. He softly pulls out, both of us hissing at the action. “Let me take care of you. Bath?”
“Yeah.”
He lays me back on the bed, brushing the hair off my face in an action that threatens to bring back the earlier tears. I can no longer ignore the devotion this man has for me.
Or the fact that no matter what I say, I’m shit at staying away from him.
The sounds of him puttering around the bathroom, running water for a bath, filter through the ajar door. I don’t trust my legs yet to follow him in there, so I simply lie still, sweat and other things cooling on my skin.
Ash rouses me from the post-sex haze, lifting me into his arms. I wrap around his neck, burying my face into the soft skin there.
He carries me to the bathtub. It’s a deep, large basin with actual clawfoots. I would guess—based on his size and everything else in this damn house—that it’s a custom piece as well.
Without dropping me, he steps into the tub and sits with me still cradled in his arms. “How you feeling, Goldilocks?”
“Like I’m high.”
He chuckles, turning me so his front is to my back. “I’ll take that as a compliment. You set my plant on fire, by the way.”
“I did what?!” I try to fly out of his arms, but he holds me tight. “What are you talking about?”
“Yeah, you set my plant on fire when you came. Luckily, being an Earth witch, it wasn’t a problem for me to suppress it.”
“How did I not notice a fucking plant on fire?”
Kind of badass, though. I don’t want to risk burning down his house every time we have sex, but it’s kind of cool that I did that.
His chest literally puffs up with pride. “I’m very good at what I do.”
“Your ego didn’t need the boost.”
“Nothing to be done about it now. I’m officially boosted.” He grabs a bar of soap—a kind I’ve seen sold at the market—and forms a lather in his hands. “Now let me finish looking after you and get us to bed.”
I snuggle into his arms and let him clean me. It’s soothing, somehow, letting him take care of me in this way.
I spent my life post-Dad fighting for scraps of affection. Mom spent all her energy fighting with Hazel, so she basically ignored me. Grandma was around once a month and did her best, but once a month isn’t enough. Hazel was the one who gave me the most love, the most real safety.
But she was a child, and she wasn’t prepared to give anyone what she herself barely got.
I’ve never found the validation, the love, I needed. I tried with boyfriends, with sex, with friends. It was never right.
Not until Ash.
This man who fights and fights and never gives up no matter how much I push him away. This man who sees me better than anyone else can.
He sees the outside I’ve so perfectly crafted to attract the attention I want, but he also sees the inside. The person who is hurt and trying to figure out what the fuck she’s doing.
“I can’t lose you,” I whisper into the room, giving voice to the fear that has caused me to pull away from every single potential connection I’ve had. As desperately as I’ve craved love, I was so scared of losing it that I never let it grow.
His hands—which were lathering soap over my shoulders—still, turning me to face him. “Laura Hollis, I promise you won’t.”
“That’s not a promise you can make.”
He presses his forehead to mine. “I can’t predict the future, no. But I can tell you right now that I’m not leaving you.”
“I believe that,” I concede.
“Do you want to tell me what’s been going on in that beautiful head of yours? Or do you want me to make you cum again before we go to sleep and talk about it tomorrow?”
Despite everything, a soft giggle escapes me. “You’re a menace, Ash Cedar.”
“Your menace.”
Mine. For the first time, I think I like the idea.