Chapter 46

Alan put his hand over hers and held them still. “Don’t talk about other men right now, Ashley. Not when you have my dick in your hand.” He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t the kind to care enough for jealousy. But her question reminded him how much he knew about other men and he didn’t fucking like it.

“Sorry,” she whispered and blushed. “I guess no one would like that, would they?”

Ashley smiled at Alan, cautiously, beautifully, despite the bruises.

My tough girl.

Ashley’s brown eyes still drew his interest, more than ever before. As he let himself take his fill, her eyes seemed to do the same. Her fingers twitched beneath his hand and against his cock. He moaned and watched her pupils dilate, deepening the depths of her stare; he wondered if his did the same.

Alan watched as her kitten tongue slid slowly across her bottom lip. Slowly, the supple flesh disappeared into her mouth and he watched as she bit down. He swallowed hard. “No,” he said, his voice hoarse, “especially when in this sort of position.” He smiled at her. “Still, I assure you, my dick is very special.”

Ashley grinned. “I can’t believe… you had this in me.”

Alan’s hips rocked forward at her words. His cock remembered fucking her in the ass, it recalled the tightness, and warmth waiting inside her. He remembered her whimpers and sighs, the way she undulated against his chest when she came apart under him.

“I can’t. We can’t.” Alan was surprised to hear the rasp in his voice. He wanted this bad and he was doing a poor job of hiding it.

Ashley stepped closer to him, until her head touched his chest. Alan’s arms went around her, as if by instinct. “I want to make you come,” she whispered against his chest. Shyly. Seductively. Her hand still held him and she slid her hand up and down his length.

Alan went up on his toes and groaned, unable to resist the delicious friction of her hand, but fought the urge to thrust against the softness of her breasts as they met with the head of his cock.

“Keep doing that,” he rasped. He placed one hand against the wall behind Ashley, his arm extended as a reminder not to crush her. His other arm held her loosely against him. He noted her injured shoulder was braced against him, her hand on his tender, scalded hip.

She stroked him. He opened his mouth and silently drew breath to keep from moaning, his stomach tightened sharply. Her touch felt inexperienced, disjointed, like heaven one second and an assault the next, but he was enjoying it. She was touching him because she wanted to, and for no other reason. What the fuck are you doing to me, Ashley?

The next minute, his mind went blank. Unable to resist, he rocked into her hand, his hips snapping forward to touch his cock against Ashley’s amazing fucking tits.

You’re ruining my life…

So soft. She was so fucking soft.

“Oh… god,” escaped his mouth, but Alan didn’t give a shit. Against his chest, Ashley panted with her arousal and exertion. The fingers against Alan’s hip tightened and pulled his hips closer and then pushed them back.

More. Oh fuck! Please, more.

“Harder Ashley, hold me harder,” he panted. Ashley complied, sending Alan into a state of nirvana. He felt like he was going to burn from the inside out. “Don’t stop. Just like that.”

“Oh, god, Alan. You’re so hard,” Ashley’s voice was pure lust. “I want you to come. I want to watch you come.” She tried to pull back, but Alan held her closer.

He shook his head. “Don’t watch me, watch my cock. Watch it come all over you.”

Ashley’s hand tightened and sped up.

Alan couldn’t hold it in any longer. With a cry, he rose up on his toes and came all over Ashley’s bountiful tits. As he panted and tried to keep from passing out, Alan listened to Ashley squeal in shock.

“Oh. My. God!” She whispered and laughed. She looked down at her body, her expression, priceless. “It’s all over the place. Eww. Alan – it’s… sticky.”

Alan laughed and watched as she poked at his semen and tried to wash it off.

He snickered. “It’s stickier when it’s wet,” he warned. He turned and reached for the soap. He stilled at the touch of her hand against his back. He sighed deeply. In the glow of his orgasm, he didn’t have the energy to argue or fight.

He tensed as she came closer. He shut his eyes while she traced the harsh white lines crisscrossing his back. His skin was red from the heat of the water and he knew the scars were more pronounced because of it. This wasn’t the first time anyone had seen his scars. He wasn’t necessarily ashamed of them and it wasn’t like he hid his body from lovers. But he never talked about it, not ever.

“What happened?” The whisper was so soft, Alan, might have missed it if he didn’t know it was coming.

“Fucked up childhood,” he said tonelessly.

Ashley’s breath skated across his skin. She kissed his scars.

Ashley got in the car and slammed the door. She tried to hide it, but Alan saw the way she winced and rubbed her collarbone.

“Happy? Have we taught the door a lesson?” Alan taunted through a gentle laugh.

Her eyes narrowed in his direction, her rage unmistakable. “I can’t believe what you did to those people Alan. You’re just... never mind. Can we just go please?”

Alan’s ire, dormant because of his unexpected orgasm earlier, now rose to the surface. “Which part can’t you believe?” he snapped, jamming the key in the ignition of the stolen car and turning it. “The part where I rescued you from a bunch of would-be muderers that beat you half to death? Or perhaps the part where – at great risk to myself – I kidnapped a doctor to help save you? Which part is it, because I’d like to know which of those things I should never do for you again?” He threw the vehicle in gear and took off. For a moment, he didn’t care Ashley had been jostled in her seat.

Silence.

Alan sat back, satisfied. It wasn’t like he killed them. The doctor and his wife were free to live their lives, no worse for wear. Ashley had been mortified to find the couple exactly as he had left them the night before – taped to their dining room chairs. Granted, the fact they had urinated on themselves during the course of the evening was distasteful, but they were otherwise unharmed. In a different situation, he might not have let them off so easy. He wondered how Ashley would have reacted to such a thing.

“Thank you,” Ashley muttered from the passenger seat.

“For what?” Alan was still irritated.

“For saving my life. Even if you’re just going to put it in danger again,” she whispered.

Alan had no response. It was exactly what he was going to do. Drive her to Seattle, bring her to Memphis, train her, sell her… lose her forever.

And kill Rikko. Don’t forget that part.

The thought didn’t assuage the guilt taking up residence inside him. His heart was heavy, his thoughts scrambled. Still, he couldn’t allow himself to show weakness. All the turmoil within him had to be hidden, from every one.

“You’re welcome, Kitten,” he scoffed. From the corner of his eye, he watched Kitten swipe at her eye and flick her tears toward the floor of the car. Ruining my life!

Things had been so much easier in the shower, easier when it was just the two of them and the outside world seemed irrelevant and beyond the reach of his thoughts. The world was in the car with them now and it was Kitten who seemed beyond reach.

After she’d made him feel more pleasure than he’d ever had – with a hand job, no less – he’d reveled in soaping her skin, watching intently as water sluiced over the taut peaks of her nipples, down the slopes of her tan belly and hips, and descending past the raven triangle between her thighs. He’d touched her there as well, sifted his fingers through her sparse hair until he felt her slippery flesh part under his fingers. It was like opening a flower, her petals pink and vibrant, shiny with dew and lust.

He’d knelt before her, worshipful. She’d opened for him, hungry, full of want. His every sense had been engaged and focused on her. He could smell her arousal, he could see the way her flesh darkened, and against his fingers he had felt her tremble, he had heard her soft whimpers. She had begged him to taste her. Slowly, he had licked her tiny bud.

Oh! How she had wanted him.

She’d spread wider and placed her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer.

“Beg me,” he’d whispered the words against her.

“Please, Alan. Please, lick me.”

He’d obeyed. One long, wet, lick across her open petals.

She sobbed, “Again. Please. Again.”

“Say you want me to lick your pussy.”

She gripped his hair tighter, “Alan!” she’d grated.

“Say it. I want to hear more filth from your mouth.”

She hesitated. Her hips rocked toward his mouth, but he’d do no more than kiss her with his lips.

“Please, Alan. L-lick my… pussy.”

Nothing had ever turned him on more. He’d pushed her legs wide, cradling her thighs on his shoulders and pressed his face into her pussy. Lick her? He fucking devoured her.

Pain had no longer seemed to be an issue for her as she undulated and rocked her hips against his rapacious mouth. Her hands held his head, pushing him deeper, demanding more, even as he gave and gave.