All the Lies Page 39
Asher doesn’t allow me or himself to think about it.
He wraps a hand around my throat. It’s not tight to cut off my breathing, but it’s firm enough to keep me from moving. It’s firm enough to translate his dominance.
If it were another person, I would’ve asked him to use protection, but it feels wrong with Asher. Besides, I’m on the shot. I checked during one of my visits to the hospital, because maybe I’ve been thinking about sex with Asher for some time now.
“You’re well and truly fucked, prom queen.”
“Why?” I strain to say the words.
“Because you’re mine now,” he growls as he thrusts inside me in one go.
My body feels like it’s burning from the inside out. Not only that, but my heart beats so loud, if it doesn’t cause me a heart arrest now, I don’t know when it will.
The world halts for a beat.
Asher is filling me whole and erasing everything else from our vicinity.
My gaze collides with his in that pause. For a moment, as our bodies join, our spirits join, too.
We become one.
He starts rolling his hips slowly, drawing goosebumps over the already formed goosebumps. Perspiration trickles down my temples as I watch him. His hard gaze and his straight nose. His sharp jaw and his kissable lips. His ragged breathing and his solid abs.
How could I not fight for him before? How could I ever hurt him?
Just when I’m falling into the slow rhythm, he fastens his pace. He pounds into me with the renowned energy of a dying man finding refuge.
It’s like he’s also been drowning and is now coming up for air, too.
I wind my hands around his forearm that’s holding onto my throat. I hang on to him as he hangs onto me.
And I let go.
I melt in his dominance and his masculine force, in his ruthless power and maddening energy.
The roll of his hips becomes harder and faster. My body arches off the bed as he owns every inch of my soul and something else I’m too scared to admit.
“Ash…”
“What? Tell me.” The rumble of his voice intensifies the pleasure whirling inside me.
“I…I’m…”
“Close?” He licks my lower lip as he tightens his grip around my neck.
I nod frantically.
“You’ll come all over my dick because you’re mine. Only mine.”
I nod again, my throat closing in with the violence of the wave about to hit me.
“Say the words, Reina.”
“Y-yours.” My voice cracks. “Only yours.”
“Fuck!” His body grows tense as spurts of his cum coat my insides.
My body trembles with the force of his release and the wildness of my own.
My mouth stays open in a wordless ‘O’ as multiple bursts of pleasure hit my womb and shoot through my entire body.
Or rather, past my body and into my soul.
My eyes flutter closed as my head rolls back against the pillow. His hold against my throat only heightens the sensation.
It takes me several minutes to come down from the high, to catch my breath.
To actually breathe.
Why the hell have I waited this long to do this?
When I open my eyes, I find Asher watching me with intensity but also…affection and something else.
Something so sinister and tangible, I nearly taste it on my tongue.
Before I can get a better read of his expression, he releases my throat and crawls on top of me, his knees settle on either side of my face. He grabs his semi-hard cock in his fist and stares down at me. “You know what to do.”
“I...do?” I whisper, staring between him and his dick. “What am I—?”
“Shh, don’t talk. Use that mouth for something else.”
Does he want me to get him off? Didn’t he just come inside me? The evidence is still dripping between my thighs.
Still, I let my lips fall open and take him inside. He tastes like...me. Oh, God. This is a lot more intimate than I thought it would be.
A grunt spills from Asher’s throat as he strokes my hair back. “Do you taste us, prom queen?”
I nod, my cheeks flaming, as I lick him more diligently.
His fingers trail from my hair to the hollow of my cheek. “Fucking blushing.”
He doesn’t sound happy as he says it; if anything, he appears a bit mad? But why? Why is he angry that I’m blushing?
“I don’t know what the fuck to do with you anymore.” He pulls out of my mouth, and a sense of emptiness engulfs me.
I expect him to leave, like that time after the first orgasm both of us had together.
The gloomy cloud is looming in the distance, waiting to swallow me.
Asher gets off me, and a tightness grips my throat, a sense of rejection, of...nothingness.
No. I don’t want to be alone right now.
I’m about to step on my pride and ask him to stay. I’m about to clutch his arm and hold him to me, but he does something unexpected.
Asher lies on his back and pulls me to the curve of his body by the arm. My head rests on his chest where lines of his tattoos cover his shoulder; tattoos I still don’t know the meaning of.
The sense of abandonment withers away as infuriating tears of gratitude fill my eyes.
He’s...staying of his own volition.
“Ash…”
“Sleep, Reina. Tomorrow is a big day.”
I want to ask what for, but I don’t have the energy, so I close my eyes and do as he said.
I sleep.
In the morning, I wake up to an empty bed.
Asher’s scent is all over my pillows and me, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
He probably retreated back to his room so no one would see us.
Still, it feels empty to wake up to this cold after last night’s warmth. There’s a sweet ache between my legs every time I move and it brings back memories of how he owned me.
I dress in a cute navy dress and take extra time to do my makeup.
I want to knock Asher off his feet. I want him to look at me like he did in the shower yesterday, like he did when he fucked me and when held me as I fell asleep.
He’ll forgive me.
I can feel it in my bones now.
I already cracked his armor, and I have to keep going to destroy it all.
When I come downstairs, I’m hit by the gloomy energy in the house.
The usual pop songs Izzy fills the kitchen with are absent. There are no flowers in the living area. Jason isn’t practicing in the backyard. Asher isn’t doing push-ups by the pool.
The house is eerie and quiet, like a cemetery.
I tiptoe around the kitchen, searching for Izzy. Instead, I find Jason drinking milk from a huge cup.
“Morning.” I grab a bowl for cereal. “Where’s Izzy?”
“Preparing roses for the anniversary.”
I slide in at the counter beside him. “What anniversary?”
He meets my gaze over his cup. “Arianna’s death. This is the third anniversary.”
Oh.
That explains the funeral-like atmosphere in the house.
“Are Alex and Asher going to the cemetery?” I ask.
“If you’re thinking about going with them, it’s better if you don’t.”
I pause pouring cereal into the bowl. “Why not? Arianna and I were friends.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Were you?”