Chapter 37: Chapter 37

Chapter 37

ALICIA

After taking a shower, I lay down, but I'm not able to sleep.

The one thought running rampant through my mind is what Ash told me. Donald works for the Russian mafia, and now Ash is going to kill him. He may already even be dead now. I change positions, trying to get comfortable as my mind continues to replay what Ash said to me.

Donald is a paid personnel of the Russian mafia.

After recalling those words, I shift positions so many times I lose count.

I sit up abruptly, anger fueling my veins and making adrenaline pump into my system. I remove the pillow from behind my head and throw it as far as I can, which isn't very far at all. It lands at the foot of the bed.

"You don't get to rule my life, Donald asshole." I shout into the air.

Damn! That felt good.

Suddenly, the anger seeps out of me when I realize I'm here, safe and sound and without a single scratch on my body, all because of Ash.

I would have made a horrible prostitute. I can't even suck dick well. They'd probably have killed me from lack of a good performance. It's suddenly clear to me now what I need to do.

I need to thank Ash.

You're a monster.

I wince as I recall the words I threw at him in a rage.

I guess I owe him an apology as well.

Coming to a conclusion, I get up from the bed and pad to the door that leads to his wardrobe. I need to put on some clothes. Ash likes me sleeping naked, but I concede to wearing only his tee.

I step inside the room, shaking my head wonderingly when I see the range of clothes and shoes he has. It never seizes to amuse me, that Ash has a whole room dedicated to just his clothes and shoes alone. There's a whole array of suits in different shades he doesn't wear, as well as ties.

I once asked him why he doesn't like to dress up. He replied by telling me it's easier to slip on casuals and go on his merry way.

Speaking of casuals. He's got a ton of them. A load of designer jeans in black, the same as tees. A few jeans in blue and tons of sweatpants he hardly wears but doesn't know he looks delicious in them. Dress shirts and dress pants in deep shades line the rack as well, fighting for attention. There are loads of sneakers and boots and a few designer shoes as well.

I walk over to the section where he keeps his underwear and pull out a pair of boxers. He doesn't wear them so I've decided to make use of them whenever I come over. He prefers to use briefs, which I totally agree with because he looks yummy in them. I remove my underwear and slip on a pair of boxers and a tee before I step out.

Once I'm in the corridor, I head towards his office, because that's where I believe he'll be. I've had the opportunity of going there on several occasions with Ash. Heat crawls up my neck when I remember how he had bent me over his desk and dig into me from behind. How I'd screamed with pleasure till my throat was sore, when he plopped me on top of it and ate me out till I was dry, and then proceeded to thrust into me thereafter.

I stride determinedly towards his office, knowing full well he would be in a frosty mood and hoping I can thaw him out with my hands. I paste a coy smile on my face as I push open the door and -

"Hi!"

I take one sweep at the office but it's empty. He's not here. I sag against the door, feeling upset and irritated. If he's not in the bedroom and he's not in the office either, where else could he be? I perk up when I realize he's probably in the recreation room. As I make to leave, I spy a big binder on the table with words scrawled across it. Curiosity gets the better of me and I walk forward.

The word codex is written in big letters with a circle around it. Around it are different words formed from it.

Seems Ash likes word games.

Surely, I can join in on the fun as well.

I close my eyes, trying to pull up a memory of where I saw the word before.

"Aha!"

I pick up the pen in between the binder and scribble some words below his, then I straighten, and smiling, leave his office, quickening my steps towards the recreation room. On my way there, I encounter Hilda who tells me Ash is in the gym which is in the basement.

Guess I still have a lot to find out about this place.

I follow her lead until we get to a lift. There she presses a button and tells me to enter. It opens and I do, expecting her to follow, but her smile is the last thing I see before the door slides close. Three seconds. That's all it takes for the lift to slide open. I walk out into a moderately-sized room packed full of gym equipment. It takes me just one sweep of the place with my eyes and I know it's empty.

Disappointment sweeps through me and I turn round, ready to go back into the lift when I hear a noise.

Thwack! Thwack!

Then it stops. I cock my head and listen. I don't have to wait long.

Thwack! Thwack!

I turn back around and follow the sound. It leads me into another room that is bare, save for a boxing ring in the middle of it. Two men wearing black shorts stand in fight-mode postures, facing each other. One lifts his hand and hits the other square in the face, and blood spurts. His movement seems slow, and tired like he's been at it for a while. Meanwhile, the other man does nothing to stop the punch, all he does is bare his blood-soaked teeth. Something tells me he's smiling, although it looks more like a grimace, one filled with pain.

It takes all five seconds of staring in horror at them for me to realize the man backing me is Ash. The other man sights me and leans close to Ash, then whispers something in his ear. The man's features contort as he jumps down from the ring and walks toward me. When he gets close, all I do is stare, mouth open, at his face. One of his eyes is swollen shut, and his bottom lip is busted open and bleeding. He bares his teeth like a rabid dog, making me blink and take a hesitant step back.

"Ma'am!" He nods at me, before walking away.

I wait for a full ten seconds, waiting for Ash to turn around but he doesn't, so I walk closer, watching in fascination as the muscles in his back strain and bunch up, as he flexes them. I don't stop walking until I'm right in front of him.

Blood. . .

So much blood covers his chest as well as the floor. His face looks okay apart from the left side of his jaw which is swollen.

His eyes are closed but I know he can sense I'm looking at him. I clear my throat, but still, he doesn't acknowledge my presence. My throat feels like a beach ball is stuck in it, so I force myself to swallow and open my mouth and say something. "Ash!"

His eyes fly open immediately and land on me, like a radar homing on its target. They're blank and empty. There's no expression in them. It looks like no one's home.

Fear slams inside me.

What if the punches he got to his head made him not recognize me?

I take a tentative step forward. "Ash. . . are you okay?"

He blinks. The blank expression disappears, and recognition sweeps into his eyes. "Hazel eyes?"

I nod and almost sag forward. Tears of relief sweep through me, threatening to fall, but I blink them away and smile tremulously.

"Come here, kitten." He lifts his hand and beckons to me.

I hesitate before swinging myself up and into the ring. He watches as I come to a stand, a short distance away from him. Something in his eyes flash.

"Closer!"

I look down at the puddle of blood in front of him, but I walk forward anyway until I'm close enough to him, but not so close to the puddle of blood.

"Ash, I'm so-"

He places a finger on his mouth. I sigh in relief when I realize his fingers are clean and not coated in blood. The brown boxing gloves lay to the side, sleek with a red color I know is blood.

Ash looks at me as if he's seeing into my soul.

"I want to mark you, Alicia."

Oh, shit!

"I want to paint you in my blood. Make you mine."

"Y. . . you're c. . . crazy," I stutter.

He shrugs. "That's not news to me."

He opens his hands wide and beckons to me with his fingers. I must be going rack raving mad because I can't stop my feet from moving as I walk straight through the puddle of blood and into his waiting arms. He removes the tee I'm wearing and drops it to the side of the ring. He digs his hand inside the boxers and slides them down. When I'm standing naked before him, he scoops his fingers around my ass and holds me tight against him, while his other hand touches me everywhere, doing exactly as he craves and touching me with his blood.

My body burns hotter than I've ever known and I feel the sudden wetness between my thighs.

There's a cut on the upper side of his chest I hadn't initially seen. It's seeping blood. He lifts two fingers and runs them along the length of it, caging the blood onto his fingers. He looks at me, then flicks out his tongue before dipping his fingers into his mouth and lacing his tongue with them. He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pushes his tongue into my mouth, letting me taste his blood.

"Oh, God." I whimper.

This shouldn't be so good.

I should be disgusted, I should be appalled, but all I want is more of him. I lick deep into his mouth, my hands caressing his face before dragging my nails down his abs, making him growl into the kiss.

He tears his mouth from mine and I can see the frenzied lust in his eyes.

"Get on your knees!"

He pushes me down and I gasp as I hit the floor beneath me and come to a stop directly in front of the massive tent in his shorts. He pulls them down and I come face to face with his angry-looking dick. It's engorged and already seeping water from its tip.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?" He barks, dragging me closer and forcing me to rub my nose up the length of him. "If you've been dreaming of having a sweet guy who will give you the world and treat you like you're made of glass, then you're about to be disappointed."

"N. . . no, I don't-"

My words are cut off as he fists his hand inside my hair and without warning, slams his dick inside my mouth.

It's forceful.

Ruthless.

Relentless.

He goes all the way to the back of my throat, and just when I feel like I'm going to gag, he draws out and then repeats the cycle.

Again, and again, and again.

My eyes water, but I don't use the safe word. He needs this. I know he needs it, and so help me God, so do I. The taste of him is fast becoming an acquired one. Suddenly, he stops and removes himself from my mouth. I watch as my slob coats his dick in a sheen.

"Need you, kitten. Need you now."

So I stand, and without another word, he hoists me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he backs me up against the ropes of the ring. His hands dig into my ass cheeks, leaving me without a doubt that I'll have his marks there as well as on my neck for days to come.

He slams inside me, and I gasp.

"Fuck!" He grunts. "Your cunt just flooded. What were you thinking about?"

I hesitate, not because I don't have an answer, but because I don't want him to stop. He doesn't. He continues pounding me as his fingers flick my clit in lazy circles, making me moan and almost sending me over the edge.

"Cum for me, kitten. I want to feel you milking my cum right out of me."

"Yes, yes." I chant. As if that's all I needed, I scream his name as I cum so hard, I feel it all over my body. Not long after, he grunts and cums as well.

"Oh, God," I pant, barely able to drag in the air I need as my head falls back.

"Fucking perfect!" He mutters, his eyes taking in every inch of me as he lowers me to my feet and takes a step back.

His attention on my body makes me look down, and I gasp at the sight.

It looks like I was dipped in blood. It's smeared all over my breasts and abdomen.