Page 21 of Ashes of Saints

Holy fuck.

Shifting the vision, I let her suck the swollen and leaking head of my cock, groaning in real life as my fist tightens. Her eyes smile at me as she gobbles my dick. Almost thanking me.

Yeah, I know, it’s a fantasy.

Then, unable to wait for any real-life body repositions, I’m between her thighs, spreading her wide, and I slam into her.

Fuck!

I explode into my hand.

The vision disappears, and it’s just me in my bed jerking off.

Goddamn it. I’m never going to fuck Aurora, so it would’ve been nice to have some longer, more detailed jerking off time.

Still, it was pretty damn hot.

I get up and hit the shower. Then head down to my gym for a few hours after breakfast, mentally preparing for my fake date with Aurora.

It’s not a date. It’s an opportunity to get her DNA and start my ascent into her life where I plan to pull her apart, wing by wing, and finally get the answers I seek.

CHAPTER SIX

AURORA

“Ugh.” I rip the dress off and throw it on the growing pile on my bed.

“Wear the green,” Chloe says from the phone, which is propped up against a picture frame on my dressing table. “And please, for the love of god, wear some sexy lingerie.”

I plop down on the bed and stare at myself in the free-standing mirror. I know I have a nice figure but I’m so nervous.

My hand flies to my tummy.

“Is that a roll? I think I have a roll. Even with these control panties.”

“Jesus, Aurora. The fact you can even buy them in your size proves it’s just marketing bullshit.” Chloe groans and pops another potato chip in her mouth. “Shwear schum lace or woo won’t”—crunch, crunch, crunch—“you won’t get laid.”

Is that why I am going out with Parker?

For sex?

More crunching.

I woke up aching between my legs this morning and have had them clenched all day. I’ve got a healthy sex drive like the next twenty-six-year-old woman, but a) I should be grieving my mother and b) I like to think I want more from a man than just sex.

I’ve never been a one-night-stand girl.

In fact, I’ve only dated three guys in my life. All of them for less than a year.

It was because of those relationships with men that I started asking Mom questions. I began to realize that my childhood wasn’t normal and the choices she made had impacted me more than I was aware of.

After all, as a kid, you don’t exactly have any context to compare with. You just live how you live. Your parent(s) raise you how they do.

When Theo asked what is wrong with you after our first fight, I immediately decided I was the broken one, not him. I can’t recall what it was about, but why did I let him make me feel like I was to blame?

I went to a therapist, and she said that fathers are there to teach us our self-worth. That mine had been absent likely contributed to me not having much.

But it was something I could find as an adult.

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