Page 42 of Ashes to Ash’s

Can’t feel it? He should be able to feel it, right? It should be agonisingly painful. I’d been hit in my nose, and I knew how much it hurt.

“Cal, just chill, come here, and let me hold you. We just fucking did it, and I want to hold you.”

I let him draw me close, and grimaced. “I’ll get all bloody, Ash.”

“Just fucking deal with it. It’s not the only fluid of mine you’ll end up wearing.”

And there went any romantic feelings I was having. It was Ash, after all. There was no sweetness or romance. It was all about sex for him. All about having what he wanted, even if he had to do nefarious things to get there.

The thing is though, without those nefarious things, we’d still be apart, desperate for each other, while I was trapped in the hell of my indoctrinated mind. He’d freed me. He’d rescued me from the self-imposed hell I’d been trapped in, because of my parents, their faith. Not my faith. Theirs. Nobody asked me if I wanted to live by the perceived constraints of a religious lifestyle. Nobody fucking asked me anything. Even Ash didn’t really, but at least he was giving me what I wanted, even if we had to contend with my insanity trying to destroy it.

“Ash?”

He groaned. “You’re a chatty fucker after sex, huh? Pillow talk time? I’m tired. I did all the work, remember?”

I slapped his chest and he laughed softly. “Getting me horny again, baby, remember I enjoy pain. It’s why I don’t care that you broke my nose. The pain helped me get off.”

I sat up again. “I broke it?”

He grinned, looking savage covered in blood, his eyes practically glowing as he gazed back at me. How could dark eyes look so bright and alive?

“Ash, we need to get it looked at. Come on.”

He dragged me back down, fisting his hand in my hair to keep me still.

“Just. Fucking. Chill.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ash

He did break my nose, as confirmed later when we cleaned me up, but I didn’t care. It’d bruise, and it throbbed, and it might heal a little wonky, but it was a small price to pay for having him at last. It was my war wound from our first time together, and I treasured it.

“Don’t you need to get it set or something?” Cal fussed as we got dressed, which really seemed like the opposite way to how it should be. Why couldn’t we just be naked all the time?

“It’s cute when you worry about me, Cal, but I’m fine. It’ll heal. It’s hardly the first time it’s happened.”

Cal turned to glare at me, wearing just his sweatpants, with a t-shirt in his hand.

“What? Someone did that to you before?” I shrugged, dragging my own t-shirt on to find him suddenly right in front of me with a fierce glare on his face.

“Jesus! What?”

His eyes narrowed dangerously, and he shoved me back, slamming my back against the wall, and making me horny, because I like pain, remember, and also he’s so fucking hot right now.

“Problem?”

His fingers latched around my throat, and squeezed as he leaned close. Fuck me, that’s hot. If I don’t spontaneously jizz my pants right now, it’ll be a miracle.

“Someone did what I did? While you fucked them? I thought I was your one and fucking only, Ash.”

I groaned, my cock throbbing in my pants. How the fuck did he just get sexier? His fingers tightened and he lifted his free hand to fist my hair, stepping up so fucking close I could feel him pressed against my poor trapped dick. It just wanted to be freed and touched, maybe licked and sucked too. Something he’d refused to do even after I’d showered, but I’d get it one day.

“Dammit, Ash. Answer me, unless you’d prefer me to beat it out of you, you arrogant fucker.”

I groaned again, my hips rolling as pleasure trickled down my spine.

“Fuck’s sake. You’re getting off on this, aren’t you? You twisted shit. Ash, you better not have fucked anyone else, because you’re mine, and I’m definitely not the sharing type.”