10: In Which She Closes a Chapter (1/2)
10: In Which She Closes a Chapter
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“It’s Saturday. Don’t you ever take a break?”
“Technically, you’re still working.”
“No, because I’m not a prostitute.”
“So you say.” I punctuated my sentence with a kiss on Ashton’s bare shoulder. Swinging my legs over the bed, I got to my feet and stretched. “I had to go crawling back to the station, remember? It’s a miracle they took me back so I’m not screwing this up by sleeping in with you.”
Ashton rolled his eyes. “The only people who listen to your show are whiny, pathetic little females.”
“I guess that’s why you tune in sometimes.” I stuck my tongue out at him and turned on my heel, heading to the bathroom. I’d become more than used to him ragging on Ask Amor on a daily basis like a bully in a playground.
“Don’t even think of joining me!” I called out, standing under the showerhead. Settling for a lukewarm blast, I ran my hands through my hair.
Ashton banged a fist against the glass door, making me jump out my skin. He let out a bark of laughter. “Why so jumpy, Amor Page?” he chuckled, pulling open the door and stepping inside the stall.
“Arsehole.”
He took my loofah from my hands. “OK. Let me make it up to you by scrubbing your back.”
“No, thanks. I’ll never leave if you do.” A hiss left my lips when his arms came around me and he thrust his hardness against my behind. “Ashton, no.”
The soapy loofah was brought against my chest, and Ashton began to slowly rub it against the swell of my breasts in circular motions. Leaning into him, I gradually began to relax. I suddenly felt like staying home the whole day and pissing Roxanne off with my unprofessionalism.
“No wonder you smell of apricots and sex.” Ashton’s breath was in my ear as he scrubbed my front with all the gentleness of a nursemaid. Moving even lower, his breathing becoming more ragged in my ear, I felt my entire body tense up. It was torture to feel my pússy begging for his attention and know that he was going to tantalisingly prolong the moments leading up to his touch.
“Please,” I found myself begging. “Ashton, please.”
His chin was in the crook of my shoulder. “I love it when you beg, Amor.”
My sponge was dropped to the enamel ground and Ashton’s powerful fingers slid inside my sex, the shock making the pleasure ten times better. I pressed myself into his hand, simultaneously arching my back away from the heat of his body. Ashton’s thumb was on my clít, thrumming it with torturous intensity. Just when I thought I could feel the surge of a powerful orgasm, his hand was retracted and he spun me around, shoving me up against one wall and hauling me up into his arms. In one fluid motion, he penetrated me and I finally saw what was so appetising about sex in the shower. The water was warm, Ashton was hot and I was in a liquid state.
Seizing his shoulders for support, I gave as good as I got, wanting him to go as deep as he could; to fill me up with his manhood. Ashton rammed into me with the kind of force that would leave a bruise somewhere unpleasant but that was what I wanted. Thrust after thrust, he pleasured me and when I finally climaxed, he tugged at my hair and followed, pain shooting through my skull.
Panting, he gently set me on the ground and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “I won’t keep you any longer, love of my life,” he breathed, a smile tugging at his lips.
Love of my life? I thought, turning around and facing the jet of water. Ashton had never used the word ‘love’ before. Don’t hang onto that word, Amor. Just don’t.
“That’s extremely gracious of you,” I told him, breathing heavily.
“You dropped your sponge,” he pointed out, and I glanced at my loofah on the ground. “Pick it up,” he continued.
“Don’t even think about it,” I whispered, swallowing. “I swear, Ashton, if you so much as tickle my arse, I will throw a fit.” A light bulb going on in my head, I squatted and picked it up, quickly getting back up to my feet. “There we go.”
Ashton leaned against the opposite wall. “If you want anal, just say so.” The laughter in his voice made me turn around.
“I don’t,” I said breathlessly. “That’s...that’s disgusting.”
He raised a brow. “Disgusting? Amor, how the hell do you give women sexual advice if the thought of anal gives you the creeps?” he asked incredulously. “And what about that book you were going to write? No one wants to read about conservative, vanilla sex. There’s only so much you can write about the missionary position.”
I scowled at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t say that it gave me the creeps, Ashton. I just said that it’s not for me.”
“How do you know if you haven’t tried, babe?” There was a challenge in his eyes; a challenge I knew I wouldn’t like at all.
I glanced at his astonishing hard-on. “Is that the kind of thing that turns you on? The idea of fúcking someone in the arse?”
“No. It’s the thought of fúcking you in the ass that turns me on,” he growled, and I shivered at how primal he sounded. “It’s the thought of you experiencing it. With me.”
“Will you be gentle?” I asked before I could even rethink my fearful tone. I sounded like a frightened schoolgirl, so afraid of experimenting. I thought I’d let go of that girl but clearly she was still inside there.
Ashton stood up straight and beckoned me toward him. “At first...but after that, I can’t promise anything.”
“Oh, what the heck,” I muttered, running my hands down his slick chest. “I want you now even more than I did five minutes ago.”
“Is that so?” He cupped the globes of my ass. “Then I hope you’re still wet. I don’t want to tear your ass apart.”
My eyes widened. “Can that happen?”
Ashton chuckled. “You amaze me sometimes.” His lips met mine when he tilted my face to his. With no preamble, his tongue slid across my lips and entered my mouth, vigorous and voracious. Our tongues began a duel that had me wanting to feel him inside every nook and cranny. Slowly, his hands travelled to the opening of my dripping pússy and he began the slow and steady act of satisfying me with his fingers once more. It didn’t take long for me to come in his hand.
Ashton pulled away, his eyes darkened with mirrored desire. “Turn around and bend,” he commanded.
I’m so going to be late for work.
I turned. And bent, palming myself against the wall.
The next thing I felt was Ashton’s hand rubbing against the slick of my pússylips and circling my other opening with the moisture. It was one of the most gratifying things I’d ever felt and I almost climaxed again from that simple touch.
Before that could happen, he slowly, tentatively stuck a finger inside me. I let out a sharp cry, of surprise more than pain, really. This was so very, very wrong. Sodomy was so very wrong. Still, it wasn’t as if he’d never put a finger in there. It was just that this time, he was more...insistent with it.
“Relax, babe,” he murmured, his other hand moving to my cúnt. He drove two fingers inside my wet heat, playing my opening like an instrument. “That’s it, Amor,” he said approvingly, when I began to buck against him. I rubbed my clít, slowly.
Ashton eased another finger inside me, massaging the slickness from my pússy into my snug arse; making it slick, making it ready. I whimpered, confused by the different sensations of this dual penetration. For long moments, Ashton simply fúcked his fingers into both my openings, coaxing me to painful orga$m after orga$m, until he was the only thing holding me up.
“Your cum is so thick, Amor,” he remarked in a low growl, running the head of his c0ck along the seam of my arse. “I need to be balls-deep inside you.”
Oh, hell.
Ashton gripped my waist with both hands and gradually eased the tip of his length into the tautness of my arse, pressing against my sphincter muscles. Slowly, he pushed his way inside and I gasped, both from the pain and the different sensations I was experiencing. If I’d thought my clít was sensitive, my rear was a whole different ball park of sensitivity.
“Bloody hell,” I wheezed when he began a slow and steady rhythm inside me.
“So tight,” he groaned painfully, sliding a finger back into the warmth of my front. I thought I’d climax right then.
He began to pump furiously into me, holding my cheeks apart as he seamlessly took his pleasure and gave me mine. The sensation of his balls smacking against my sensitive flesh, coupled with his fingers delving inside me, heightened the pleasure of it all. I wanted to feel his entire length and if I could take him even deeper, I would.
To my surprise, Ashton came first, his groans mingling with mine when I came right after, so out of breath I thought my heart had given up.
When it was over and Ashton withdrew from me, I shakily stepped out the shower and grabbed a towel, heading back into my bedroom. I was sore all over. There was no way I could look him in the eye now. Absolutely no way in hell.
Best dirty sex of your life, Amor? my conscience asked me, and I felt a smile play across my face.
You have no idea.
The sound of Ashton’s message tone brought me to my senses.
We’re not friends and we’re not dating. Just what the hell is this? Work?
Ashton loved Avicii’s music, hence the annoying buzz of Levels. Grabbing his Blackberry from my nightstand, I tapped open the message in a bid to stop the noise he called music.
Tomorrow evening: Ivanka; Classic Car Auction (black-tie); The Black Gardens; 7pm – Cheers, Monty
Perhaps it was foolish of me to think that I was the only woman Ashton was seeing. Victor had been exclusively mine but maybe that was because he wasn’t much of a looker, to be honest. Ashton, on the other hand... Of course he had other needy, wealthy women on his agenda. He was probably sleeping with this Ivanka, who was bound to be six-foot-something, blonde and exotic.
“I thought I heard my phone.” Ashton stood in all his naked glory in the doorway.
“You have a message.” I flung his phone at him and he neatly caught it in one hand, thwarting my attempt to smash it into a thousand pieces.
“And you read it?”
“I wanted your stupid fúcking phone to shut up!” I exploded. Amor, what are you doing? Stop it.
Ashton glanced at the message then back at me. “You’re mad.”
“About what?” I grabbed my bathrobe from the chair and draped it over my body. Everything was all wrong now. He had no right to see my body.
“Look, Amor... I know what you’re thinking but I –”
“Just get dressed! I don’t want to see you naked! Put some clothes on!”
He strode past me and pulled on his boxers. “Better?”
“How much do I owe you?”
“What are you talking about?”
I glared at him. “How much do I owe you for all the nights you spent here giving me 0rgasm after 0rgasm?”
It was his turn to shoot daggers at me. “Don’t insult me.”
“Don’t insult my intelligence by pretending that this was all just about pleasure. You were clearly on the job!” I spat. “So how much do I owe you?”
Ashton raised his hand and for a minute, I thought he was going to hit me. His hand hung in the air like a noose. He stared at it in confusion before letting it fall to his side.
“You bring out the worst in me,” he said darkly, turning around and looking for the rest of his clothes. “I don’t know why the fúck I even bother. You’re evidently damaged goods.”
“Bastard,” I said sharply. I grabbed the nearest thing I could find – my bedside clock – and hurled it at his back. It caught him straight on and he whirled around, murder on his face.
“You don’t want to pick a fight with me, Amor.”
“Go ahead and hit me, you...you shítface!”
“Don’t tempt me,” he said dryly, pulling on his jeans. “I swear, Amor, I am two seconds away from doing it.”
“Get out of my house!”
“Oh, shut the hell up, you drama queen.”
I felt the first sign of tears prickling at my eyes and I willed myself not to cry in front of him. Again.
But I could taste the saltiness in my mouth.
“You’re scared of feeling any kind of emotion, Amor, and I pity you,” he said in a low voice. “Maybe it’s because of what happened in your past. But it’s more likely due to the fact that you’re such a bítch.” He paused. “Fúck. Are you crying?”
“Just go!”
“Amor, I’m so –”
“Get out.”
He left.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the end of that.
***
“Don’t you hear the sound of your biological clock ticking, Amor?” said Grace, cocking an ear dramatically. “Because I do.”