Page 79 of Role Play
Where was the compassionate man who took care of my needs last night? Where was the Ash who fed me dinner bite after bite to ensure I was eating well? “Are you… are you mad that I used mysafeword?”
“I’m not mad,” he said, and I could hear his panting breaths tearing through his lips. “I’m coming down off theadrenaline.”
Right. Adrenaline—that made sense, I guess. Because hadn’t I just thought the same thing? Thatmyadrenaline had spiked,too.
My thoughts were interrupted as his fingers brushed over my clit, circling myopening.
“You’re not wet enough yet,” he stated theobvious.
I wanted to sayNo shit,but I was pretty sure that would just result in my ass being more red than it alreadywas.
“Suck.” He pushed his fingers into my mouth and it was dirty as fuck. Me getting his fingers good and wet so that my pussy could handle them. I wrapped my lips around his finger, taking him deep in my throat to the knuckle. My tongue circled him and I moaned, wishing it was his cock in my mouthinstead.
He withdrew them from my lips, then plunged them inside of me.Hard.
I cried out, gripping the scarves that tied my hands. My body lunged forward with the movement and the initial sharp pain melted into pleasure. There itwas.
My initial cry of pain morphed into a moan and I rolled my hips as he pumped his fingers in and out. Within moments, I was wet again. His cheek slid over my neck, stubble scraping my skin and my body lurched as he nipped my shoulder. Adrenaline surged through my body and every single nerve ending was on fire, waiting in anticipation for what Ash would donext.
With one hand busy, fingers plunging inside of me, he released my hair and wrapped the other around my waist, his hand spreading across my belly and clutching me against him. Almost like he was afraid I was going to run. Hell, with how unpredictable he was being, maybe Iwould.
My heart pounded in my chest, my ass stung as the scrape of his pants hit the sensitive, raw flesh. Heat pooled in my gut as he withdrew his fingers from inside of me and I heard the distinct sound of a zipper, then a wrappertearing.
His sheathed cock pushed against my opening, thick and hard, and without giving my body time to adjust, he slammed inside of me. Despite the harsh, rhythmic thrusts, pleasure hissed through my body, warming me from the inside out. Ash’s fingers dug into my hips, gripping me, pulling me harder and harder back against him as he stabbed inside of me over and over. Reaching around, he pinched my clit and pleasure built low in my belly, spiraling up my core from my bundle ofnerves.
I wrapped the scarves around my wrists tighter—they weren’t knotted painfully or tightly. If I really wanted to, I could slip right out of them, I was sure of it. I cried out—in pleasure, in pain? I wasn’t sure I knew, or if it even mattered anymore. I grunted as his free hand tugged at my hair, pulling my head back to look in hiseyes.
I thought I’d find desire looking back atme.
Arousal.
Adoration.
But what I found wassorrow.
Deep in those blue eyes, nothing but pain stared back at me. Though it might be my ass that was bright red and raw, it was clear which one of us would feel the lasting effects of tonight and it sure as shit wasn’t going to beme.
“Ash,” I saidsoftly.
His pinched eyes narrowed—that sorrow was replaced with something else. Something hard and angry. “Did I say you could call me by my name?” he growled. He released my hair and instead pushed me back down roughly against the paddlingbench.
Stabbing pain sliced into my shoulder. I screamed—literally screamed at the searing pain. “Red! Red! Mother fucking red!” Icried.
Ash was immediately in front of me, untying my hands. “What? What’s wrong?” He searched my face and I clutched my shoulder as he helped me stand up—an open safety pin, sticking out of myshoulder.
“Oh, Jesus,” he cried. “Lucy, I’m so sorry.” He helped me over to a chair and Iwinced.
“It’s okay, just… just pull itout.”
He cupped my jaw briefly, nodding. “Okay, on three. One, two, three.” He yanked it out quickly, then tore off his shirt, pressing it against the bleeding. It was just a puncture wound. A tiny one at that. Sure, it hurt like hell, but nothing a little Neosporin and a Band-Aid couldn’tfix.
My wound wouldheal.
But Ash’s wound? What I saw in his face? That looked far from healing. Uncle Richard’s words rang in my mind.Ash isbroken.
The air was thick with a mixture of his spicy male scent and arousal. His eyes met mine, sad and distant and I had a sudden urge to brush my fingers across the angled lines of his cheekbones. The firm ridge of his brow. And those soft, palatable lips I enjoyed kissing so fiercely. I was aware of every little movement. Every small line and tiny downturn of his eyes and mouth. I followed that urge and raised my fingers, brushing his sweat-damp hair off his forehead. Again, his expression shifted,darkening.
“I didn’t say you could touch me,” he said, though his voice didn’t hold the same resolve it did earlier. Almost like he was saying it more to convince himself it was breaking the rules thanme.
