Page 25 of Tarnished Embers

“Never, Pretty Thing,” I promise before leaving the door and heading into my room next to hers. Then I stride to the French door that leads to our shared balcony, opening it and walking out into the still-chilled morning air. The sun is halfway up, not quite warm yet, but it looks like it might be a beautiful day, and I won’t let our girl spend another moment steeped in sadness.

The crack in my heart grows when I look through the French door to see her curled up on the bed, her arms wrapped around herself and facing away from the window, those sexy leather boots in a heap on the floor. The glass of green shit is on the bedside cabinet and I want to hurl it against the wall, my fingers twitching with the need to eradicate it from our lives. I’ve been forced to suffer similar revolting drinks in order to ‘keep in shape’ as Odette put it, we all have, and I remember the way it made me feel, the underhand critique of my body, as if I wasn’t enough as I was. It just makes me feel even more shitty for not protecting Ember from Odette’s harsh words.

The cold metal of the door handle gives way as I push it down, and I breathe out a sigh of relief that she didn’t lock this as well. I would have been able to break in, but I’d rather not have to explain why we needed to fix the glass.

“Baby,” I greet softly as I shut the door behind me and rush over to her. “Ignore that jealous bitch, you’re fucking perfect.” She huffs a laugh that’s so bitter it stings as it reaches my ears.

“Right, you say that now, but not fucking one of you stood up for me when she effectively called me fat downstairs.” Her words hit hard, like a punch to the solar plexus as there is truth to them. We didn’t stand up for her, and it’ll be one of the things that I’ll add to the long list that makes me hate myself. She shuffles away from me, still refusing to look at me, so I toe my sneakers off and get on the bed, placing the pastry on the side table before kneeling behind her. Her lavender and rosemary scent washes over me, and it goes some way to calming the simmering anger that’s bubbling away inside of me. “I’m just a plaything for you all, something to fuck until someone better comes along.”

“Look at me, Ember.” My voice comes out harsher than I intend, and I hate the way she flinches slightly. “Please, baby.”

Slowly, she turns around, uncurling like the most beautiful flower, her eyes and nose red, but fuck, she looks pretty when she cries. Though only if I’m the one causing the tears to fall and only when she’s begging me to stop giving her pleasure.

“You are fucking perfection, fuck what anyone else thinks or says,” I insist, leaning over and grasping her chin, not allowing her to look away from me. “And if you were just a toy, something to play with and discard, we wouldn’t have spent months obsessing and finding out every minor detail about you.”Lies, a whisper flits through my mind, but I ignore it. She may have been nothing more than a shiny new toy before we met her, but as soon as we saw her, we all knew. “You. Are. Ours.”

I move around her, forcing her to her back, making her legs part as I gaze down at her from my knees.

“Kit—” She’s cut off with a yelp when I reach underneath her dress, grab her tights, and yank them and her panties off in one harsh move.

“I wouldn’t crave you with every fiber of my fucking being if you weren’t something special, Pretty Thing,” I tell her, shifting so that I’m settled on my elbows, my face hovering above her sweet, pink pussy. It’s swollen and looks well-abused, and blood roars towards my dick so fast that I go a little lightheaded. “Oh, baby, Prince fucked you good and hard this morning, didn’t he?” I don’t give her time to answer, just dip my face and lick her slit. “Shit, you taste so fucking good, you know that?”

She moans as I dip my head and lick her again, her sweet musk bursting on my tongue in a flavour that I know I will crave every fucking day for the rest of my life. She’s already dripping for me, probably in part because of Oct’s attention under the table before everything went to shit.

I dive in, showing her exactly how fucking beautiful she is with my tongue, sweeping it across her slick folds and lapping up every drop of pleasure she bestows on me like the gift it is.

“Fuck, Kit…” she groans, her tone still thick with the tears she shed as her hands tangle in my hair, and I smile against her pussy. Then she pulls me closer, and not a man to argue when a feast is presented, I set to work again, my tongue dipping inside her heated channel, my dick so fucking hard that it’s a miracle it’s not snapped off with how roughly I’m grinding it against the bed.

This is all about her though, all about showing her she is more than I ever could have dared hope for, and I’m never letting her go.

“Come for me, Pretty Thing,” I command, feeling the tremor in her thighs as I force them wider before going deeper with my tongue.

Her pussy flutters around my tongue, a deluge of pleasure soaking my chin and filling my mouth as she cries out her orgasm. She’s so fucking responsive, and she comes so beautifully that I keep going, needing every fucking last drop she’ll give me.

When she’s a trembling, twitching mess, I finally let up, pushing up and crawling over her. She blinks up at me, her eyes half-lidded and her cheeks flushed with her golden hair a mess, and she’s never looked more beautiful.

Then I lower down, pressing my lips against hers, and just like that first morning, she opens to me, kissing me back with a passion that she hides most of the time. One day we’ll get her to show it to the world.

“Don’t make me fall for you and then leave me, Kit. It would break something inside me that could never be fixed,” she murmurs against my lips, and I’m shaking my head before she’s even finished.

“There is no world where that would even happen, Pretty Thing,” I assure her, settling more of my weight on top of her and pushing her body into the mattress. My jeans-covered dick is pressing into her burning core, and it’s taking almost more willpower than I possess not to open my zipper and slide inside her swollen cunt. “You are it for us. There is, and never will be, anyone else.”

She stills, her eyes darting between mine as she whispers, “You barely know me.”

Chuckling, I brush my lips across hers and hold her tighter. “I’ve known you for a lifetime, Ember. I know you feel it too.”

“It scares me,” she confesses so softly I almost miss it, and would have if I wasn’t staring at her lips.

“I know, baby, but the best things usually are fucking terrifying.”

* * *

“POISON” BY FREYA RIDINGS

EMBER

We get up, and Kit gives me another kiss before leaving me to shower—again—and change. I strip the bed too, placing the now wet things in the laundry basket and getting out fresh sheets and my spare duvet. My cheeks heat when I think about what the staff will think. They’ll know what the stains are from, surely? Though I know that they would never say anything, I make a mental note to go online and buy a sex sheet.

“How did this become your life?” I ask myself as I look in my mirror, seeing the blush spreading across my cheeks. I went for another short dress with long sleeves, the first being such a hit earlier, but opted for my furry, slipper booties as we are staying at home.

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