Filed to story: Swallow Me Whole (Sadie & Ashton) Book Free
I part my lips, allowing him to thrust between them, and push my tongue against his tip to keep him from going too deep.
A low growl emanates from his pressed-together lips. “Let me in your throat, Sadie.”
Squeezing the bars of the headboard, I try to edge my head back, but he only follows. And now I’m further trapped, stuck between a sexually worked-up man and a mattress that refuses to give. I’m not sure why I’m fighting him. Taking him deep is uncomfortable and a little scary, but it’s also empowering. Maybe it’s the position. The helplessness.
And that’s when I realize he wants me helpless. My talk of blowing other guys pissed him off.
“Now, Sawyer. If you don’t open your throat, I’ll cuff you to the bed and make you come so many times you’ll lose count.” He cocks a brow. “It might sound like fun, but trust me, it’ll be more painful than anything.”
My heart skips several beats, and a shiver goes down my spine. I can’t decide if it’s a good shiver or a bad one. Drawing in a calming breath through my nose, I relax my throat and flatten my tongue.
Ash doesn’t hesitate. He squeezes his eyes shut, and his jaw is carved from granite as he thrusts with violent desperation until I’m gagging from the onslaught of his anger. The mattress is bouncing and squeaking under the force of his hips.
And I can do nothing but lie here and take it.
Part of me is ashamed to admit that I like him taking my mouth this way. He’s stealing the control from me, and along with that, he’s owning the chaos that goes on in my mind when I’m blowing him
There’s no time for self-doubt to creep in. No time to wonder if I’m sucking him right since there is no right or wrong way when he’s in control.
“Close your eyes,” he rasps out. My lids flutter shut right as he lets loose a hoarse cry. He jerks out of my mouth, and I feel his warm release squirt onto my lips, hitting my nose, dripping onto my shuttered eyelids.
Wow. He just came on my face.
I’m still reeling from his actions when he thumbs his cum out of my eyes. Blinking several times, I finally settle my attention on him. The coldness in the hard lines of his face is still there. So is the ice in his eyes. He just blew his load all over my face to degrade me.
To punish me.
Intense hurt rises inside my chest, and I fight the burn of tears. I will not cry in front of him. I won’t. And yet the tears fall anyway. I’m as helpless to stop them as I am from moving underneath his powerful body.
“Get off of me,” I say, pushing against his massive chest with blind movements, unable to see clearly through the pain clouding my vision. He grabs my hands and slams them to the mattress on either side of my head.
“Why are you crying?”
“You just came all over my face!”
“That’s not why you’re crying.” His tone softens. So does his grip on my hands. “What’s wrong?”
“You did it out of anger.”
“I didn’t—” He cuts off, his expression stricken. “Fucking hell.” He crawls off of me, and I count my way through endless seconds as I get myself under control. When I turn over to face him, I find him sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to me, shoulders hunched. His head in his hands.
“Ashton?” Fear strangles my voice because it’s happening. We’re ruining our friendship.
He takes in a deep breath then lets it out. “God, Sadie. I’m sorry.” The remorse is so thick in his voice that I scramble across the mattress.
“It’s okay,” I say, kneeling behind him and snaking my arms around his shoulders. In response, he brings his hands to my forearms and holds on to me.
We’re holding on to each other, in more ways than one.
“It’s not okay. You weren’t ready for that.” He lets a heavy beat pass. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“I provoked you on purpose.” Honesty is the only thing that’s going to get us through this.
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I’m scared.” The words are a blast to my ears, the echo tainting the room with a truth I don’t want to admit.
“What are you scared of, Sawyer?”
“Everything, but mostly…getting too close to you.”
Too attached is what I should have said.
His chest shakes with bitter laughter. “It’s a little late for that. The thought of you with anyone else makes me jealous as fuck.”
“Yeah, we’ll maybe that’s the problem. You’re not supposed to get jealous, Ash. And I’m not supposed to feel so fucking scared. This was supposed to be…uncomplicated.” Before I can form my next thought, he extricates himself from my arms. Turning around, he grabs my chin between his fingers.
“Let me un complicate shit for you. I’d rather fuck you than your pretty mouth.” Slowly, he runs the pad of his thumb over my lower lip. “But I’ll settle for it.” He dips his thumb between my lips, and the salt of his skin infuses my tastebuds.
It’s the taste of pure Ashton.
“You should know,” he says, his voice lowering to a sexy husk, “that I’ll settle for whatever you’ll give me.”
Stunned by his confession—even though I already knew the truth on some level—I pull back, and his hand falls to the mattress.
“I can’t do this anymore. I’d rather have you as a friend than mess everything up because we can’t control our hormones.”
His eyes narrow, and I know I’ve said the wrong thing.
“If you believe this is a case of hormones, then you’re deluding yourself more than I thought. We’re not teenagers in high school. We’ve known each other too long to write this off as casual.”
“You’re right,” I say with a gulp. “Which is why it’s time for us to stop.” Scooting off the bed, I search for my discarded clothing. I get as far as spotting the puddle of my dress when he pulls me back, his fingers gripping my chin again in that immovable hold of his.
“I owe you a punishment.”
“You can’t be serious. C’mon, Ash. You just said we’re not in high school. I’m not some little girl that needs a spanking.”
“Oh yes, you do need a spanking, but that’s only the beginning.”
“No, this is the end. You taught me how to blow a guy, so it’s time to move on, just like we said we would.”
His fingertips press into my jaw. It’s not painful, but it does drive home a point; Ashton is not someone you say no to.
“You’ve got a punishment coming, but if you still want to call it quits afterward, I can’t stop you.”
I should say no. This thing between us has gone too far. When tears and jealousy start creeping in, that’s never a good sign, and I’d rather preserve our friendship than continue to play with fire, no matter how hard it’ll be to walk away from him.
“When?”
Now he does let me go, seemingly mollified by the concession in my tone. “I’ll text you.”