Saving Ash (book #2) Chapter-Twelve

Ash

Fear is races through me like fire on ice. I’m excited. I’m scared. I’m all things torn. I’ve never just slept with a woman. Ever. The closest a woman has spent the night with me was on my pillow next to the bed. A pet to care for and to only pleasure me. I’m not sure what will happen. I’m in unknown territory, lost somewhere inside myself.

I feel Cinder’s eyes on me as I drive us back to the penthouse. She wants to know if we will be having sex. Sex. What is sex without control? Without demons? Without demands? Without my pleasure.

But I’m feeling something. I just don’t know what it is. One minute I feel it’s a bad thing. The next, I feel it’s something I long for. Something innocent. Innocent when I was a young boy with hopes and desires. Before those things were ripped from me like holding a knife by its sharp edge. A clean slice ripping your dreams into a pool of blood.

I sometimes wonder what it would have been like to stay that young boy. To believe in love and beautiful things. Beautiful things from your heart and you have no idea why they were put there.

We’re getting closer to the penthouse. I think about the young girl beside me. I know that look in her eyes. I wore that look once. It’s noting but a window to an innocent soul. If she knew better, she would close that window and hide the essence of such a vulnerable soul to the world. It’s what people like me feed on. Something we take pleasure in and never give back. Soon, she will understand what we feel, what we need.

Stop! I can’t do this to her. I bang my head against the preverbal brick wall, asking myself why. What is it about her?

I want to look at her. See her beauty. I want to see something else in it. I want the red to go away and hold her in a white room of peace and promises. Where will that take me?

I pull into the parking garage and park next to the elevator. She hasn’t said a word since we left the restaurant. She’s waiting on me. She’s making this my choice.

“Can you tell me why you have been so quiet, Cinder?”

“Sometimes, Ash, I feel I will lose you in conversation. You’re like a wild, curious animal. You’re ok if I’m at a distance, but when I try to reach out and touch you, I know you’ll run away.”

“I see. Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Please, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I may be harsh and ruthless at times, but I would never…” Would I? “I would never physically hurt you. I know where my demons lie.”

“Will you tell me what you mean by demons?”

“Things in my past that are now part of my being that has shaped the man I am. I don’t know any different.”

“Do you want to be? Different?”

It’s hard to answer her. I want nothing more. But I know nothing else.

“I’m not sure. That’s why you are here.”

She straightens to my response like icy water has been poured over her.

“I had art supplies brought in while we were gone. I would like for you to create for me tonight.”

“You do?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay,” she says, softly.

I exit the car and go to help her out. I keep her close as we walk to the elevator. Strangely, I like her close to me. That’s a first.

Pulling out my key, I unlock the penthouse floor. Soon we arrive, and I take her by the arm and escort her through the doors. Once inside, I’m flooded with all sorts of emotions. Sex. Lust. Passion. Pain. Pleasure. I want them all. I want to rip into her and see how far she will let me go. But I can’t. I want to earn her trust.

I take her coat and hang it up inside the closet. “There’s an art easel set up in the bedroom. I’m going to take a shower, and then I’m going to pour myself a drink. I want to watch you draw as I lay upon the bed. It’s not an order, but I would like it if you would.”

“Of course, Ash,” she says, and a smile lightly touches her lips. She wants to do this. It’s something she likes.

I leave her to be while I go to shower. I’m naked, touching myself in places I need pleasured. Maybe if I get myself off, I won’t need to have her tonight.

The warm water only adds to my pleasure as I slowly stroke myself. My cock is hard and swollen. I need release. I think of Cinder, naked begging for my cock. Her warm mouth wrapped around my girth. Her chocking sounds as she takes it all in. I think of her wet pussy, begging for it. It’s enough, and I release in my hand, hard. My body contorts, and I press my hand against the tile wall. I slowly stroke my cock, like a pet I’m proud of. Giving it the attention it’s so needs.

But I know I’ll need more.

Stepping out of the shower, I grab a towel and rub myself dry. Next, I pull out a pair of silk pajama pants I keep in the drawer. My cock is still hard and is very noticeable in the pants.

I walk out of the en suite and find her next to the easel. She looks at my crotch, and I dismiss the look she gives me and go pour myself a bourbon and take my position on the bed. I look at her. Study her. She confused. And it some way, I like it. It’s still a form of control.

She swallows before asking. “What would you like me to draw?”

“First, I want you to remove your dress.” Her eyes widen. Slowly, she pulls down the straps from her shoulders and lets the dress fall to the floor. She’s like precious art. “Remove the panties, too.”

Her fingers tuck inside her panties, and she slowly pulls them down to the floor and steps out of them. It’s simple, yet so erotic. I stare at her beauty. Taking it all in. I then evaluate myself. What am I feeling at this moment? It’s very vanilla. But something about it builds inside of me. Will I be able to enjoy this? Simple? Vanilla?

“Cinder, your body is most beautiful. I want to watch you create in this vulnerable state. Art, creating art.”

“Yes, sir,” she says. Her words are breathy, and I catch the sir part. It was said in lust, passion. Not in role. She’s enjoying this. I’ve never cared if a sub was enjoying what I do to them.

“Turn around and draw me something.”

“May I have some music while I sketch?”

“Music?”

“Yes, something sensual.”

“I grab the remote next to the bed and start a peaceful piano playlist on Spotify. She gives me the most tender smile and turns around, picking up a charcoal pencil. I watch the slender muscles in her back. Her skin the color of cream and ivory. She moves so graceful with the music. Her hand moving across the canvas with a mind of its own. She lost in her own world. A place she finds peace and comfort. A safe place.

Am I there with her?

I take a sip of the bourbon and continue to watch the art before me. Never has something this simple brought me so much pleasure.

She turns her head and looks at me with a sweet smile. Her eyes light up, and I see so much in them. A rush of warm liquid runs through my body. My heart feels…something. It’s good, and bad. What if I can’t control it?

I set the bourbon down and slowly move from the bed. She glances back, giving me a look of acceptance. I move toward her. Only inches away, I feel her warmth. My hand reaches out and touches the small of her back. A soft mew escapes from her lips. She doesn’t stop drawing. I run my hand slowly up her spine, stopping at each vertebrae and tracing it with my finger. Proof, she is human, a creation of beauty. I come to her neck and she leans into my hand, still drawing. My fingers inch their way to her cheek and brush her soft skin with the back of my knuckles. She  feels like velvet. My finger trace her lips.

Stepping closer, I press lightly into her back. My hand trails down her stomach, I stop at her pubic bone. She tenses and catches her breath. Leaving my hand anchored, I move a finger down and brush across her soft mound. It’s no longer smooth. Her hair feels soft and fresh. Like a kitten.

She leans her head back into my chest. I look down at her face and adore the way her lashes curl over her eyes. I move down and let my lips taste her skin and trail my tongue along the crook of her neck. Goosebumps cover her flesh. I pull her into me and press my hard cock into her back.

I want her.

I still want her like this. No demands. No punishment. Just simple want her.

I look up at her drawing. Butterflies. Butterflies all over the canvas. I hold my breath and pray I don’t come undone. The song switches to Alfons Daminger, Land in Sight. I played it many times. Many times for…her.

I’m heating up. My hands start to tremble. I feel my jaw tighten. I need something. I need her. But not her.

“Cinder,” I rasp out. “Open your legs. I’m going to take you here. I’m going to fuck you… Hard. Don’t stop drawing.

“Yes,” she whispers out.

I rush my pants to the floor, my burning cock springing between her legs. I grab it and with one shove, I’m deep inside her. She yells out but doesn’t stop her sketching. Her hand works feverishly as the butterflies swarm across the canvas. I hold her tightly against me, rocking in and out of her, hard. All the while, she does her best to draw.

The butterflies. The song. My aching cock inside her. I see red, then black. I see her and suddenly, I explode inside her. The canvas falls to the floor, and I grab her, spin her around and we fall to the bed.

I’m on top of her, panting to get air into my lungs. Her heart beats against mine. They’re in time, together forming one beat. I look up and gaze into her eyes. I feel lost. I’m scared.

“Ash, kiss me,” she says, and it gives me comfort.

I move down to her lips and hover above them. Then slowly, our lips touch.

Everything goes white.