Chapter 18: Chapter 18

Chapter 18

ALICIA

Definition of sexy: Interesting or appealing.

As I stare at Ash's side profile, I can't help but think he's all that and more. He's sexy in everything he wears. The suit clings to him showcasing his broad shoulders. He's not bulky, but he's undoubtedly solid, with a lean torso made more evident in the suit. He exudes a charm he doesn't even need to try to show. It comes off as powerful and wraps up every other person around.

"Keep looking at me that way and I might stop this car and fuck you on the side of the road where people will see us." He says without turning his head.

My face flames, and big bad butterflies begin to swim inside my stomach. I might hate swear words but hearing them drop from his lips is so hot.

My mind goes back to earlier as I'd watched him rip into the two men at the restaurant. It had set my blood on fire for him. Even when the man's hand he held onto had bent at an unnatural angle, I wasn't fazed. The icing on the cake was when he brought out a knife from inside his shiny black leather loafers and threw it directly into the other guy's heart.

There must be something seriously wrong with me because seeing him doing damage to those guys had me all hot and bothered, and not in a bad way. Even after everything, he still looked put together when he walked toward me. There was one lock of hair that refused to stay put on his head. It fell over one of his eyes, adding to his sex appeal. It's still there, even after he's periodically finger-combed it.

He's got so much sex appeal, it should be bottled up and put on sale for those who don't have any.

I watch as one of his hand curls around the gear, shifting it. Even the way he handles the car is sexy. Thrills run up and down my spine as I imagine how it would feel with his hands on my body. I shake my head and look out my side of the window. Overhead lights flicker as cars wheeze by. We stop at a red light and I feel his eyes on me but I refuse to look at him.

In no time, the car stops. I must have zoned out because when I look up, I realize we're not in front of my apartment. We're in front of his house. I turn to him, about to complain, but the words die on my lips when I see the look of lust and something dark and unfathomable in his eyes.

I swallow the words and turn back to stare out the window. For a few precious seconds, he does nothing, and then his voice reaches out to me. "So you're just gonna sit there?"

I shake my head and open the door. As we both come down, he opens his hand to me and I take it like we're dating, like he didn't just kill a man, like my body isn't craving for his touch. I know he'll handle me the same way he handles business. With a capability that brooks no nonsense.

I can't wait.

The house looks to be in darkness except for the security lights mounted on the fence. As we walk towards the door, I get a prickling sensation that we're being watched. Just as I turn to look at the dark surrounding trees, two men slink out from them. My eyes widen when I see they're holding long rifles.

"Relax, it's just the guards," Ash whispers into my ear. He chats a bit with them but a second later his hand presses against my back urging me towards the door. Lights spill from inside the sitting room into the dark foyer but I can see the outline of his face as he moves close to me. His eyes drop to my lips and trail back to my eyes, and then they go back up to my lips once again. I know what he's doing. He's silently asking if he can kiss me.

Instead of using words, I show him. I press my body against his, feeling his arousal against my stomach. Needing no further invitation, he tips my chin, but just before he kisses me, something annoying takes place. My stomach growls. He turns away but not before I see the silent shake of his shoulders.

He's a fine one to laugh. I haven't eaten a morsel today, unless you count the soggy popcorn Clarissa made at my place this morning. He tugs at my hand and we walk inside the sitting room.

A woman appears before us, wearing an apron over her dress. "Welcome back, sir, what can I get you to eat?"

"Nothing for me, Hilda, but please rustle something up for the lady here." He looks at me with a smirk. "I forgot to feed her on our dinner date."

"Right away, sir." The woman gives me a smile before bowing and leaving.

"I'm sorry you couldn't eat anything before the unfortunate incidence at my restaurant." He says to me when she leaves.

My mouth hangs open. "That was your restaurant?" And he says it so flippantly, so indifferently.

Must be nice to have money at one's beck and call.

He shrugs. "One of them. Now, come, let's go upstairs, I need to get out of these clothes and take a shower. Hilda will bring up the food." He tugs at my hand once again and I find myself following him up a long staircase and through a corridor. From the little I can see, the house is big. The floors are decked in gold and black marble and the walls are painted a dark golden color.

Modern art dons the wall. I can't see much more because Ash is already swinging open a door. I've got no option but to follow.

His fingers fall away from mine as he strides towards another door. I presume it's the bathroom when he disappears behind it and doesn't come out immediately. I miss the warmth of his fingers, but as I take in the expanse of the room, it's forgotten. The running color theme seems to be a rich coffee brown. The room is massive with a king-sized bed that can probably fit four people. To the left of the room is a mini parlor with three leather chairs, a sofa, and a glass table in the middle. A large screen television hangs on the wall, and the curtains are floor to ceiling and in a rich deep gold color.

I can't help it, my eyes flit back to the bed. They widen when I realize the sheets are silk. I resist the urge to glide my fingers across it. While I'm still debating on what to do, Ash comes out and I almost can't breathe. He's devoid of any clothes, save for a white towel riding low on his waist. Water drips down his hair - which is now slicked back with wetness - and onto his toned tattooed chest. I don't linger on the intricate design for long, I'm more interested in chasing the water with my eyes as it gets captured in the hairs at the v of his waist.

"My face is up here."

My face flames, yet again, when I realize those are the same words I said to him back at the restaurant.

"See, hazel eyes, unlike you, I don't mind being looked at." He shrugs and turns towards another door I presume is a walk-in closet.

I feel foolish still standing and staring but I'm caught in a weird situation here. I don't even know if I'm going to spend the night in his house. He comes out some seconds later wearing sweatpants and nothing else. I'm trying, but failing to take my eyes off the outline of his manhood through it.

"Careful there, kitten, you're going to make me think you can't wait for me to fuck you."

I've officially lost the number of times my face heats. I don't wanna shower, I just want to sate this longing for him inside me. I swallow the lump in my throat and snatch the tee he holds out to me. A knock sounds at the door and Hilda comes in. She wheels in a cart, the types used in hotels. I fleetingly wonder how she got it up the stairs. She bows slightly to Ash before leaving.

I quickly walk to the bathroom and strip out of my clothes. As I wear his tee, I realize it doesn't have any lingering smell of him, only the smell of detergent. By the time I come out, the room is filled with the sweet smell of food and Ash is dishing some into a plate. He beckons to me and I walk on jelly feet, wishing his tee was longer instead of reaching me mid-thigh. When I get to the sofa where he's seated, he pats the seat beside him and I have no option but to sink into it.

He scoops a spoonful of whatever is on the plate and turns to me. "Open!"

I oblige by opening my mouth but when he does it again, and again, I put up a hand to stop him.

"I can feed myself, you know, I'm not an invalid."

He smirks before turning to me. "Maybe I want to make sure you have enough energy before I devour you."

I scrunch my brows together. "Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"It's a promise!" He says without taking his eyes off the TV.

I'm suddenly filled with dread, but there's excitement mixed up in all of it as well. He dismisses me when his eyes continue to watch football on Tv. I think maybe he's forgotten about me. I almost miss it when he turns to me. "Have you ever been with a man?"

Huh? Is he asking if I'm a virgin?

"I'm not talking about those small boys who fondle between your legs just so they can get off."

I huff. "I'm not a virgin if that's what you're asking."

A slow smile coils his lips. Before I have the time to wrap my head around what's happening, I'm staring at his pert bum as he foists me onto his shoulders and dumps me unceremoniously in the middle of his bed. I watch as he climbs it, crawling towards me with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

I'm frozen. I can't move even if I wanted to. When he gets close to me, his eyes scan my face,

slowly, methodically, like he's studying every contour before his gaze finally settles on my lips.

He licks his, and mine part in response, releasing a shaky exhale and making him chuckle. "I won't bite."

I swallow back the lump in my throat as my eyes drift close then I feel his lips on mine. They're soft - so, so soft, like velvet. They ghost across my lips, his kiss gentle, like puffs of breaths that I eagerly inhale. And then I feel him pulling away. I open my eyes to see him hovering over me.

"Unless you want me to."

I close my eyes once again and exhale another shaky breath. It doesn't take long before I feel his lips on mine once again, coaxing them open with his tongue. It slides in and our tongues clash and fight for supremacy, but he conquers mine, sweeping away all my defenses. The kiss becomes rough, fierce as if he can't get enough of me, as if he's punishing me for a crime I committed against him. I realize his tactics when he gives me a little breather to think.

Coax, conquer, and punish.

His hands glide to the bottom of the tee and in one fluid move, rips it. My boobs spill out unhindered and I'm laid bare to him. His gaze is hot as he marks me with his eyes. Still looking at me, he removes his sweatpants and his dick springs free. I can never get over how huge it is. He strokes it and lets out a hiss. Wetness has begun to seep out from its tip. His hand glides to my pussy and he groans when he finds out I'm already soaking wet.

"You're probably gonna hate me for this, but fuck it, hazel eyes. . . I can't wait any longer."

Without any warning, he opens my legs wide and thrusts into me so hard and deep that pain stabs my stomach. It feels like I've been impaled. I gasp, clawing his back, my nails digging into his skin. He pauses when I cry out but only stills for a few seconds before thrusting again.

And again.

And again.

I lose count of the number of times, but at some point, the pain turns into pleasure, and I feel my walls clamp around his dick. It's excruciating pleasure, the type I've never experienced before. My toes curl and I moan out his name. They soon turn into cries as the pleasure builds. Every time I cry out, it seems to do something to him, rousing something inside of him. He lets out throaty groans, the sound prickling my skin and tipping me over the edge.

I cry out his name as I climax so hard, I feel it deep inside my womb. Once I do, he brings out his dick and strokes it hard, tilting his head back with his eyes closed. I stare at him, stunned at the sight of him cumming, a mixture of agony and pleasure seeming to twist his features as he grunts. He slows his strokes, stilling his hand, and just sits there with his eyes closed, his chest

rising and falling.

I notice his cum is in his hand. He didn't allow any of it to slip onto the bedsheet. The word sharpshooter flits into my mind. I watch as he gets up and pads naked to the bathroom not caring if I'm watching or not. I watch as his muscles ripple as he walks away. His back is also tattooed with the same black ink as the front. Unfortunately, I still can't make out what the drawing is about, and neither do I care.

I feel relaxed, languid, and used.

He comes back into the room in all his naked glory and I almost have a heart attack when he walks out the door butt-naked. He comes back a few seconds later and throws something onto the bed.

"What's this?" There are two medium-sized packs of protein bars lying not far from me.

Does he think I'm still hungry?

His eyes glimmer. "Eat up!"

"I don't understand, wh-"

He removes the shredded tee I covered my body with and throws it to the ground, then he looks back at me and smirks. "For round two."