Filed to story: Swallow Me Whole (Sadie & Ashton) Book Free
So unashamed.
So fucking free.
Cries burst from my throat, and he smothers my mouth with a hand just as someone knocks on the door.
“Sadie?”
Jake. Dammit.
“Are you in there?”
Ash lets loose a displeased growl against my clit, and the vibration of his lips sends me over the edge. Even though Ashton’s warm palm muffles my cries, I’m positive Jake can hear every uncontrolled moan.
For a few seconds, I don’t care.
For a few liberating moments, I manage to cling to all the don’t-give-a-fucks in the world. It’s just me and Ashton and his talented tongue driving me insane between my thighs, working my body to perfection for what seems like forever.
Until the last wave of pleasure shoots me soaring before sending me into a gliding free-fall toward ground zero.
To the tune of reality knocking on the door.
“You taste so fucking good.” Ashton licks me clean before rising to his feet. He removes his hand from my mouth, and we’re face-to-face once more. The nearness of him, the smell of myself on his lips, the rise and fall of his chest—all of it binds me to him, keeps me tethered to the ethereal plane of existence he sent me to.
A fist pounds on the bathroom door, and I slam back to reality, my mind hitting concrete. How are we going to get out of here without Jake knowing exactly what we were up to?
“Jesus Christ, Sadie. I can’t wait to get my cock in your mouth again.”
Obviously, Ashton isn’t worried about the wolf pacing outside our stolen haven.
“We can’t,” I say.
“Not here, I know.” His words heat my collarbone as he runs his lips over my skin. “I want you in my bed, taking your time with that sweet mouth of yours.”
“Ashton?”
“Hmm?”
“How are we gonna get out of here?”
“Walk out the fucking door?”
Jake calls my name again, and now he’s resorting to trying the handle.
“He’ll know.”
Ash veers back, and even in the dim light, the scowl on his face is unmistakable. “I don’t give a fuck who’s out there. You brought me here as your date, so who cares if your ex catches us fooling around?”
There’s no way I’m going to make him understand. And maybe he’s right because part of me doesn’t understand this feeling of shame crawling over my skin either.
Five minutes ago, I had no shame.
But that’s the problem with reality—it shines a spotlight on the things you don’t want to see. Sticks needles in the things you don’t want to feel. Croons a song in your ear about the things you don’t want to hear.
And I don’t want to witness the possessiveness in Ashton’s eyes. Don’t want to experience the shifting foundation of what we are. Don’t want to listen to the truth in his words because it shouldn’t matter who’s on the other side of that door, attempting to intrude upon our stolen moments in my parents’ bathroom.
Jake is the one who cheated, so why do I feel like the guilty party here?
“I just don’t want him knowing,” I finally say, for lack of an explanation that makes sense. “What I do isn’t his business.”
It’s not my father’s either.
“You’re right about that.” Ash pulls me off the counter, and I barely have time to straighten my dress before he hauls me to the door. I dig in my heels.
“No! Ashton, wait.”
“I’m not hiding in the dark with you.” With that, he unlocks the door and yanks it open.
Jake takes one look at us—our laced hands and the flush that is undeniable on my cheeks—and his eyes go wide.
“Did you need something?” Ashton asks.
“Unbelievable.” Jake darts his gaze between Ash and me. “Are you doing this to get back at me?”
The fact that he even thinks I’d do this because of him digs under my skin. “Not everything is about you.” I pull on Ashton’s hand, desperate to get away from the accusation in Jake’s eyes.
As if
I have anything to explain.
We return to the sitting room, as my mother refers to it, and find that guests have begun trickling through the open French doors leading into the formal dining room.
And I’m certain I have a sign on my forehead that reads just got eaten out in the bathroom by hot, perverted friend.
Jesus, my face is flushed. It feels like a hundred degrees in my parents’ house. I let go of Ash’s hand and make a beeline for two open spots at the other end of the table from where my father usually sits. My legs are shaking as I dip into the seat. I shoot a glance at Ashton as he slides in next to me, hating him in that moment for making me a nervous wreck during this dinner.
He leans down, lips lingering near my ear. “Just breathe. We’ll be out of here soon.” Under the table, he takes my hand and squeezes, and any trace of anger I harbored toward him vanishes.
This is the part of Ashton I love.
Love.
That word sticks in my mind like a fly to a glue trap, just buzzing there, trying to break free. My heart thuds to the bottom of my gut, and I know I won’t be able to eat much—not with this disturbing, dawning realization that what’s going on between Ash and me is growing into something bigger than I imagined.
Something terrifying.
Something out of my control.
“You look like you’re about to be sick. Want me to get you out of here?”
Yes. More than anything. But the promise of my father’s watchful eye isn’t the reason my head is spinning. Ashton is, with his husky voice in my ear, his fingers locked with mine, and his woodsy scent infusing my senses.