Page 16 of Ruthless Rebel

In many ways Elle King is the center of all of us, none of us escaped the pain she went through, and I don’t even like to think about the time we spent without Cassie, but it’s different for him. We all know what Elle went through, what she endured and survived to get to where she is today, but what about him? What about the boy who was held down and forced to watch as his best friend was raped? Who had to discover that his father and brother were bigger monsters than he ever thought, and worse, he had to pretend to be one of them. Who was almost killed trying to protect his daughter and her mother, and nearly lost them both anyway.What about him? Who looks after him?

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask gently, and for the first time his eyes collide with mine, and my heart aches in my chest. The usual piercing blue currently lacks any light, and he looks nothing like the Asher Donovan who took on his father’s empire and won. Instead he just looks lost, lonely, and broken.

He doesn’t say anything, and I don’t either, we just silently stare at each other and bask in one another’s trauma until he eventually asks, “Why do you do it?”

I don’t have to ask what he means, I know instantly, and I don’t know if he will understand my answer, but I give it to him anyway. “Because of him,” I say truthfully. “Because every time I close my eyes I see him, and I see them, all of them, even my mother. I see their terrified eyes and their blood-stained faces. I see the cuts on their skin and the mutilation on their bodies, and it’s so achingly beautiful and meticulous that his ways are ingrained in me. Because I couldn’t stop my father, and because now I can’t stop myself, and neither can they. Because those monsters deserve it, and because someone has to save the victims. I didn’t then, but I can now.”

The words fall from my lips with ease in a way he always seems to achieve, and Asher absorbs every one as if he is flipping them over in his mind, trying to work out every secret inside of me. I watch as he places the bottle of vodka on the table beside him and stumbles to his feet until he can face me completely.

“You were just a child,” he says almost softly, and I know he wants to placate me, but I am long past those days.

“So were you,” I snap back. “Yet still here you sit, drinking away your sorrows thinking that somehow it will help.” It's a low blow, we both know it, but after the long night I’ve had, I’m not really in the mood for this pseudo-therapy session we have found ourselves in.

“Should I go out and kill someone instead?” He taunts back with a sarcastic smirk.

“Maybe,” I shrug. “It might make you feel better.” I want to add that I bet I could also make him feel better, but that’s a conversation he isn’t ready for. So, instead I turn towards the stairs and start to head to bed, but he follows.

“Did it make you feel better?” He calls out to my back, and I can feel his presence storming behind me as I move up the stairs.

“There are very few things in this world that make me feel good,” I toss over my shoulder, stalking towards my room filled with an energy I can’t even put into words.

Just as I am about to reach for my door, Ash steps right in front of me, blocking my way. “Who was it this time?” He demands, and his anger is palpable in the air between us, and I feel my cock stir to life in my jeans.

“Jarad Bristol,” I sigh, seeing no reason as to why I need to hide anything anymore, given all my cards are already on the table, these ones anyway.

“Rapist?” He asks with a lethal tone.

“Child rapist,” I correct, and his head falls back as he closes his eyes and curses, but my focus is on the long column of his throat as he swallows down the emotion no doubt choking him now.

I want to replace it with my hand, to cut off every thought in his head with just my touch, so much so that my fingers burn with the need. My cock is now fully hard in my pants and if he looks down he will be able to see it, and I’m not sure what I want more. To choke him with my hands or with my cock, but this stalemate between us where he pretends to hate me is becoming unbearable.

“Did you make it hurt?” He grits, and it’s only then I realize he is back looking at me, and I nod, forcing myself to keep his stare.

“I always make it hurt,” I tell him, and flashes of ways I could make him hurt rush to the forefront of my mind, and I swallow thickly, ignoring the raging hard-on I am sporting for him and only him right now.

“You’ve got blood on your neck,” he pants, in a way that is so achingly attractive that I am seconds away from throwing caution to the devil himself and slamming Asher Donovan against the wall and claiming him, as Logan’s words from earlier flash across my mind.

You, me, and him.

“Well unless you’re going to help me clean off, Dark Prince, I suggest you get out of my way.” My words aren’t meant as a taunt, but I swear I see a flash of something in his eyes before he snaps out of his stupor and moves from in front of my door.

“Goodnight, Lincoln,” he nods, turning towards his room, and rushing inside and slamming the door before I can even respond.

I barely make it inside my own room before my hand is fisted around the base of my cock, and I am stroking it hard and fast, groaning at the instant relief and not caring if he hears. In fact, I hope he does, I hope he listens to the sounds of what he does to me, because just his very presence drives me insane and has done so for almost two years.

I stroke faster, the flame for him inside me igniting to an out of control blaze. “Oh fuck,” I curse, dropping my head back against the door, closing my eyes and imagining we are still out there together. I imagine putting him on his knees, I imagine me getting on mine for him, countless filthy scenarios of all the ways I could ruin myself in him, and all it does is make me jerk myself faster and moan louder.

A sound crashes through the wall, and I know he hears me and it thrills me, forcing my balls to draw up in anticipation as my orgasm barrels forward. I fuck my hand without pause, tightening my fist on every upward stroke until hot blasts of cum burst from my tip, and still I don’t stop until every last drop has been milked from me.

It’s only then I call out, “Goodnight, Dark Prince.” Which is greeted with another smash in his room, and I can’t help but smirk.

He is so close to breaking and I can’t wait to feel him snap.

7

ASHER

My heart is pounding inside of my chest, and I silently plead for it to settle as the room on the other side of my wall finally goes quiet. I think the alcohol must have gone to my head or something, that’s the only explanation as to why I feel so funny right now. I inhale and exhale rapidly, desperately trying to calm my breathing and heart rate, as I assess the mess now in my room. I knocked over a lamp and then bumped my chair into my desk as I attempted to get across the room and ignore what was quite clearly going on in his.

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