Page 31 of Ashes to Ash’s

A surge of anger followed his words, as I realised that arrogance in him was ingrained, trained into him by those twisted parents of his, bandied about like truth, when it was pure depravity.

I drew my hand back and slapped him harder, and this time his response was a ragged gasp.

“Yes… hurt me, baby.” The fucking twisted little psycho. I grabbed his hair and dragged him closer to me.

“Show me to the fucking bed, freak.”

A wide grin stretched across his face, as he turned and started leading me up some stairs, while my grip on his hair didn’t loosen for a moment. When we reached the bedroom, and I released him, he turned to face me, lifting his t-shirt off and dropping it on the carpet beside him. His chest was painted with tattoos, and I saw my name several times, among many dark and jagged designs, with everything surrounded and linked with barbed wire inked into his flesh. It was stunning, and just made him look more beautiful, more deadly, and more damaged. Ash nodded at me.

“Your turn, babe. We both get naked.” I reached for the buttons on my shirt, and my hands suddenly froze. I couldn’t move, and I couldn’t bare my skin for him. My mind was suddenly filled with so many conflicting thoughts that I was struggling to even breathe.

“Cal? Don’t bogart my view, baby. I need to see you too.” Ash’s hands settled on mine, and he pushed them aside. “Breathe, Cal. This is a good thing. This is what was always supposed to happen. Just keep moving. Bare that beautiful body for me. Let me worship it. Let me-”

“W-worship?”

“Fuck. Bad choice of word for a former godbotherer, huh? I just meant that I want to touch you, kiss you, lick you, but I need you naked first.”

“I…”

“Cal, don’t back out now, please.”

“We’ve never even kissed properly, and suddenly you want sex? I’m… Jesus… this is… I can’t.”

Ash gently cupped my chin and lifted my face, which apparently I’d lowered as shame started to overwhelm me.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, as his lips touched mine in the softest kiss I could imagine. Barely there. Barely touching. It was perfect, and it wasn’t enough. I wanted, no, I needed more. It couldn’t be gentle. It couldn’t be sweet. This wasn’t love. It wasn’t, right? It was about sex. It was about body parts, and combustible pleasure. It was about fucking, not making love.

My fingers tangled in his dark hair, and I pressed in deeper, flinching when his tongue brushed against my lips.

“Open,” Ash whispered, and for once, I obeyed him, my lips parting and welcoming his tongue as it suddenly surged into my mouth, and I crashed against the wall as he took over.

Chapter Twenty

Ash

It wasn’t really our first kiss, but it felt like it. It felt like the first moment of the rest of my life, and I knew that sounded sappy, but it was Cal. It was always, and would only ever be, Cal. Even the one time I’d kissed another man, I’d been thinking of him, picturing him. Finally he was opening up to me, finally he was willingly touching me, and kissing me. His fingers locked around my throat again, and a ripple of delicious fear-pleasure travelled down my spine. He could hurt me, he could really hurt me, and I wouldn’t love him less. I wanted it.

He turned us, slamming me against the same wall he’d been leaning against, and kissed me harder, a low groan leaving his throat as his tongue surged violently against mine.

He wanted me, and I’d let him have me however he wanted to take me. He wanted to fuck my ass? Yes, god yes. He wanted to hurt me while he fucked my ass? Even better. Choke me with his dick? Hell yeah, I’d saved all of these firsts for him, but I was starting to think they’d never happen. If I’d had to kill him tonight, I’d have died a virgin myself, because it was him or nobody for me. What she did was irrelevant. My firsts were all for him.

“Ash, if you want me-”

“I do, Cal, just fucking use me for your pleasure. I’m yours, my hole is yours, both holes, fuck me however you want. Just don’t stop.”

Cal swallowed hard, gripping my face with his free hand, and rubbing his thumb along my cheek.

“I’m going to hell for this, but then I just killed someone, so why shouldn’t I get to enjoy you? If I’m already doomed, what do I have to lose?” Yeah… that’s the spirit… I fought the urge to snap at him, because that would stop him, and I wanted him deep inside me before he backed out.

If I gave him a split second to think, he’d change his mind. He was riding on adrenaline, and confusion, and god only knows what else. Actually, fuck that, god doesn’t have a clue. God doesn’t exist, except to people who want to use his name to try and control others, or enforce certain behaviours. Case in point; being gay is wrong? How can being what you are be wrong?

“Get on the bed, Ash. I want you naked now.” I didn’t argue, dragging the rest of my clothes off as fast as I could, watching as he started undoing the prissy trousers he was wearing. He was really getting naked for me. Would this finally fucking happen?

He dropped his trousers and stepped out of them, and his hands settled on his simple white boxers, but he didn’t push them down. He was hard, I could fucking see it, and I wanted it, damn near got up and went to grab it, but I could see his brain starting to tick over again. If I didn’t do something, he’d back off, it was so fucking clear he was losing his nerve.

“Cal? What’s up? Not got the balls to fuck me like I deserve? Am I naked for no fucking reason?”

Cal clenched his fists, lifting his eyes to drag his gaze obscenely over my naked body, almost creating a literal sensation of being touched. If just his eyes could make me feel this way, what would his hands feel like, or his mouth, or his fucking cock. Just do me already.