THE ATMOSPHERE in Alex’s office couldn’t be any more suffocating.
There’s this smell in the air, something potent and thick. It’s not the scent of the coffee in front of the detective or the scotch at the minibar.
I sit on the sofa opposite Detective Daniels, my hands resting on my knees and my pulse skyrocketing.
It doesn’t help that Asher decided to join us. It’s the first time I’ve seen him come into his father’s office of his own accord.
Letting my hair camouflage my gaze, I peek at him from under my lashes. He’s still in his shorts from the workout and just threw on a T-shirt. Usually, he’d be watching me back, but he’s not now.
His entire attention is on the detective, as if he has a feud with him.
“What do you want from Reina, detective?” Alex asks from his position beside me with an edge of authority.
I can feel the detective’s gaze on me as he speaks. “We have a warrant to bring Miss Ellis in for questioning.”
“And what are the charges?” Alex presses.
“We found her bracelet at the fire site.”
“As I said before, that’s only circumstantial evidence that won’t hold up in court—”
Detective Daniels cuts Alex off. “We also have her DNA.”
Blood drains from my face, and my head snaps upright. The first thing I see is Asher’s poker face.
His unreadable expression doesn’t necessarily mean something good. I’m starting to think he’s the type who straps his emotions tight behind a controlled mask.
No. I want to tell him. I didn’t do anything.
“If you please, Miss Ellis,” the detective says, “come with us to the station for some questions.”
“Absolutely not.” Alex stands. “Bring an arrest warrant for that.”
“You’re only making it harder for her.” The detective meets my gaze, harsh and judgmental. He already thinks I had a hand in whatever happened at that cottage, and nothing will change his mind. “If you confess, we’ll think about reducing the charges.”
“I…I…” Words lodge in my throat like tiny needles, prickling the skin.
“Don’t answer that, Reina.” Alex walks to the door and opens it. “The voluntary questioning is over, detective.”
Daniels stands up and slaps his notepad against his thigh. His eyes meet mine and a shudder slides down my spine. “Kids like you are a cancer to society and should be put down.”
“That’s enough, detective.” Alex ushers him out. “Leave. Now.”
Tears blur my vision as I ball my fists in my lap. No matter how much I want to ignore his last words, I just can’t.
What if…what if I really did something?
Old Reina was bad enough to hurt people, but she wasn’t a criminal, right?
Once the detective leaves, Alex faces me with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. He has nothing that will pull you down.”
“But…” I gulp. “He said they found my DNA.”
“But they still have no victim or suspect profile yet. He’s trying to intimidate you. Do not fall for his tactics. Okay?”
I nod slowly.
“You go rest, Reina.”
I’m on autopilot as I stand up and exit his office. I don’t stop to see the way Asher watches me. I don’t want to witness the cruelty in his face or that ‘See? You’re a monster’ look.
My legs barely carry me, and my shoulders hunch as if a weight is pulling them down.
The moment I arrive at my room, I sit on the edge of the bed, my unsteady leg unable to carry me anymore.
My heart flips and thumps in my chest so hard it’s impossible to hear anything else. Pressure builds behind my eyes and my nose tingles with unshed tears.
God…what have I done?
I lift my head, and my blurry gaze collides with Asher’s.
What…?
Did he follow me out of his father’s office?
The need to stand up and hug him burns inside me, and I can’t think of anything past that.
I don’t know when he became this important, but he…did.
This is some sort of syndrome. It must’ve started after he saved my life.
He stalks toward me until he’s standing above me. I look up, no idea what he sees on my face—sadness, chaos, or something else. I just hope he sees how lost I am right now.
How much I need him to not dig the knife in deeper.
He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off with a trembling voice.
“Stop.”
If he slices me with his words right now, I’ll just bleed to death.
His hand wraps around my throat. It’s tight, as if he wants to suffocate the life out of me.
My lungs burn with the need for air.
My nails claw at his hands, trying to shake him off, to get some oxygen into my lungs.
“You don’t deserve the life you’ve been given.” He’s angry—no, he’s enraged, but strangely, it doesn’t feel directed at me. It seems to be more about him.
“Ash…ugh…” No more words come out.
He’s stealing my breath and my air supply.
“Give back what you owe,” he snarls in my face.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him so furious.
So manic.
So out of control.
He’s shed his deadly calm exterior and is coming at me full force.
Tears stream down my cheeks, into my mouth, and onto his hands until all I taste is salt. I couldn’t stop them even if I wanted to, because not only am I crying for myself, I’m crying for everyone whose life I made hell in the past.
Asher is one of them.
He’s just one of them.
Second chance? I don’t deserve that. People who are monsters like me simply don’t deserve it.
“Fuck!” He jerks away from me as if he’s been burned. “Stop crying.”
A sob tears from my throat as I catch my breath, sucking as much air as possible into my starved lungs.
His fingers find my cheek and he wipes the tears away, a pained expression covering his face. “Why are you crying? Do you think you’re a victim?”
I shake my head frantically. “I’m crying because I recognize I’ve been the villain all along.”
His expression tightens and so does his jaw. “Why do you keep saying shit like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you care. Like you feel.”
“I do feel. So much, it’s suffocating.”
Something inside unlocks. A deep longing for him, his forgiveness, and his…everything.
I might not be able to fix all I’ve done in the past, but I don’t want Asher mad at me. He’s been mad for so long.
I hurt him for so long, and I want to fix that.
His T-shirt sticks to his stiff chest and shoulder muscles like a second skin. I want to relieve that stiffness.
To loosen him up.
I don’t allow myself to think twice as I fall to my knees in front of him. I taste his sandalwood scent on my tongue and feel it seep into every pore of my skin.
With a deep breath, I reach for the band of his shorts.
He grabs both my wrists in one of his hands. “What the fuck are you doing?”
I stare up at him with pleading eyes. “Let me.”
His grip tightens around my wrists as he watches me with narrowed eyes.
“You’re on your knees,” he says with some sort of awe.
While he’s still in his contemplative mode, watching me intently, I release my hand from his and pull down on his shorts.
My breath catches in my throat.
Oh, God.
He’s gone commando, and he’s already semi-hard.
A tingle crawls down my spine and to my core.
In all honesty, I don’t remember how to do this, but I’m hoping my memory will kick in like with my studies and jumping.
I let the shorts fall around his ankles and grip the base of his cock.
A grunt spills from the back of his throat, and I love how his dick jumps to attention at my mere touch.
I affect him as much as he affects me.
Scooting closer, I raise myself up as I give him one long stroke from top to bottom. He doesn’t even make an attempt to hide his groan this time.
“Fuck, Reina.” His hooded eyes focus down on me.
My heart is on my sleeve as I give him a tentative smile and lick the pre-cum dripping from the crown.
He’s throbbing and veiny. I want all of that. I want all of him.
I want him to take me and devour me, but first, I want him to loosen up. I want to change this fucked-up relationship.
If it doesn’t change, we’ll always be stuck in the middle of nowhere.
I lick him one more time and relish his low groan. The sound is so masculine and rough, it tightens my stomach.
With one last lick, I take him in my mouth, all the way inside.
“Fuuuck.” His fingers thread into my hair, and my eyes close, enjoying the feel of him in my mouth.
Even though I don’t remember doing this, apparently I have a knack for it. I don’t have to think before I lick the side of his cock. Then I suck on the crown, lapping my tongue over the tip until I taste his pre-cum.
His hips thrust forward and his dick hits the back of my throat. My gag reflex kicks in and I choke on him. Instead of pulling out, Asher keeps it right there. My eyes snap open and I place both hands on his thighs, trying to push him away.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t freaking breathe.
The look on Asher’s face is one of pure contempt. It’s like he’s planning to choke me to death.
“Did you think you could manipulate me with this?”
I shake my head frantically. The lack of air and the pressure cause tears to blur my vision.
But he’s not letting me go.
“That’s what you do best, don’t you, Reina? You think you can drag me into your web and finish me?”
I shake my head, feeling dizzy and on the verge of fainting.
He pulls back. I cough and sputter, clutching the floor for balance. Drool forms on the side of my face and my chin.
I wheeze for breath like a dying woman with one last wish, like someone who doesn’t have anything left.
He wraps my hair around his fist, yanking me up, and I stumble to my feet. I expect him to leave, but he carries me in his strong arms and lays me on the bed on my side.
“W-what?” I ask, confused. My mouth feels dry and empty without his cock.
He kicks his shorts off, tears his T-shirt over his head, and removes his shoes so he’s naked.
Fully, absolutely naked.
I stare at his defined abs and a little scar below his ribs. Such a small imperfection makes him even more perfect. The tendrils of his tattoos ripple over his right shoulder and bicep. In the middle of tendrils, there seems to be a sentence in a foreign font. Is that Arabic?
My fingers twitch, yearning to touch those tattoos and ask him what they mean, but before I can think about that, he’s on top of me.
His fingers dig into my hips as he pulls my shorts and panties down in one brutal go.
I gasp, the sensation lighting my skin on fire.
No, it’s not fire. It’s like the air is only filled with him and his presence.
After I woke up in the hospital that day, I struggled with the feeling of belonging and having something—or someone—completely belong to me.
Now, I admit to wanting Asher to be that someone. I want him to belong to me. Talk to me. Touch me.
Maybe that’s why his rejection hurts the most.
It hurts to have him hate me so much.
He kneels in front of my face, grasping his hard cock with both hands. “You’ll finish what you started.”
I gulp, eyeing him carefully. “I thought you said I was manipulating you—why would you want me to finish?”
“Because you’ll be doing it on my terms.” He pushes the crown against my lips; it’s dripping with pre-cum. “Open.”
I don’t.
If I do, this moment will be over.
Everything will be.
For a second, I just watch him: his perfect abs, the tattoos snaking along his shoulders, and the somber shadow covering his features. It’s lust and something else I can’t recognize.
He lies down on his side so his cock is in my face and his naked, hard body is glued to my front.
“Open. That. Mouth.” There’s so much authority in his tone, so much…masculinity.
Sure, I can resist him, but it’s completely useless at this point. It’s the same as resisting myself, and the meeting with the detective, I can’t deal with that.
I part my lips and take him inside, using my hand to direct the pace.
Small sounds slip out from the back of my throat when he lets me bring him to pleasure. This time, he doesn’t interfere. He lets me control the pace, sucking him as I see fit.
If possible, he hardens further in my mouth. I can’t get enough of having him like this.
I can’t get enough of having him all to myself.
Just when I’m about to pick up the pace, a hot wet tongue licks me from the base to the top of my clit.
I gasp around his cock, a full-body shudder going through me.
Holy shit. That feels so good.
He does it again, and I clench, thinking I’ll come from that sensation alone.
“Who told you to stop?” He speaks against my sensitive folds as his finger teases my entrance.
He thrusts his tongue into my opening, going in and out of me.
My eyes roll to the back of my head. Pleasure hums underneath the surface, threatening to sweep me under.
I battle against the sensation building inside me while trying to suck him as hard and deep as he’s doing to me.
His tongue thrusts in and out of me with relentless urgency that turns me boneless. He teases my clit with his thumb, sending jolts of pleasure through me.
“Fuck,” he grunts against my hypersensitive skin. “You taste like sweet torture.”
My only answer is a moan around his dick. Tingles take over my limbs and I know I’m close…so freaking close.
So I lick and nibble and suck on his cock as hard as I can.
I want to bring him what he brings me.
I want him to be swept away, too.
But most of all, I want him to forgive me.
The wave hits me so suddenly. One moment, I’m getting lost in him, and the next, I’m right in the middle of a storm.
I cry out against his cock, my skin prickling and stiffening. Arousal coats my thighs, and I know he can feel it against his tongue.
The intimacy nearly kills me.
“Break for me,” he murmurs against my folds. “Soak me.”
His words magnify the force of my orgasm. It goes on and on until I think it won’t ever stop.
“Open that mouth wider.” He thrusts his hips against my lips, and I do as I’m told.
He pounds a few times before he tenses inside me, and then his cum covers my tongue, my lips, and drips on either side of my mouth and down my neck.
I’m panting, too spent to think or do anything.
Asher isn’t done, though.
His cock glides out of my mouth as he pulls me up to face him. We’re kneeling on the bed, facing one another.
My eyes are droopy, but I can almost see the change on his face, the slip, the…affection.
Before I can analyze it further, his lips collide with mine in a harsh, punishing kiss.
They’re firm and rough, his lips, all-powerful like the rest of him. A rush of desire grips me when I meet his tongue with mine.
He tastes like me.
And I taste just like him.
My fingers thread in his thick strands as I kiss him back with a ferocity that matches mine.
Asher wrenches our lips apart, breathing harshly against my mouth.
“Why the fuck are you kissing me back, Reina?” he breathes against my mouth.
“I’m not supposed to?” I ask, confusion forming a cloud over my head.
“You never do, and you never get on your knees or suck me off.” He briefly closes his eyes. “I don’t know what the fuck to do with you anymore.”
And with that, he grabs his clothes and walks out of the room.
The bitter taste of rejection explodes in my throat, but I don’t give in to it. There’s still hope.
He’ll forgive me.
I will make him.
