He nodded his understanding. “I will do better. And when I start to be a domineering asshole – outside of the bedroom…” He canted a grin at me. “Then I want you to call me on it. I’ll listen.”
“Will you?” I wanted to believe him.
He stood in front of me, his expression serious. “I will.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. This time, the kiss was deeper and...different. Hotter, sweeter, more intimate. It was almost like he was kissing me for the first time.
When he lifted his head, I was shaking, my body swirling with myriad emotions. My knees were weak, but his hands were on my hips, holding me up, giving me strength.
He pressed his mouth to my ear. “I want you naked.”
The words were soft, more like a question than an order. With a start, I realized he was waiting for permission.
“Since when do you wait for anything?” I asked him.
“Since I'm trying to prove to you that I can be different.”
My stomach clenched. He was serious.
“I never said I wanted anything different in the bedroom.”
His eyes darkened and, for a moment, he didn't do anything at all. Then he moved with a speed that left me breathless. He scooped me up into his arms and headed straight for the stairs. I had a feeling that if the sitting room had a door, he wouldn't have even bothered taking me upstairs.
He went into the first door he came to and kicked the door closed behind him. I looked around, surprised that we weren't in a bedroom, but what must've been some sort of small sitting room or reading room. He carried me over to a fat, over-stuffed love seat, and put me down on the heavily padded top before fumbling with my jeans.
Precariously perched there, I swayed a little as he dealt with my shoes, and then tugged me down so he could get me out of my jeans.
“One of these days,” he said against my lips. “I'm going to make love to you slow and easy.”
I could have told him that I didn't want slow and easy, but then he was lifting me onto the top of the love seat again. A moment later, he buried himself inside me, and I cried out his name. His fingers bit into the soft skin of my ass as his cock stretched me wide. I whimpered at the conflicting sensations of pain and pleasure. It happened so fast, my body wasn't prepared, no matter how much I wanted it.
He rested his forehead against mine as he held himself still inside me. “I love you, baby. Please, don't leave me.”
I strained against him, gasping when I felt his body rub against my clitoris. He shoved his hand under my shirt, cupping my breast through the material of my bra. He teased first one nipple, and then the other into hard, demanding points. I writhed against him, desperate for him to move.
“I love you,” he said again, the words fiercer this time. With his free hand, he yanked on my hair, forcing my head back so that we were staring at each other. Staring into his eyes, I realized he was serious. He meant it.
I let go of his shoulders and reached up to cup his face. Drawing him down, I brushed my lips against his. Only then did he begin to move, harsh, demanding strokes that drove deep inside me. I squeezed my eyes closed and pressed my face against his neck. Every thrust sent a shudder through me as he reached places inside me that no one else had ever been. And it wasn't just physical I forced myself to admit. I could feel the difference. He wanted my pleasure, but not for him. He wanted it for me.
As if sensing some of what I had inside me, the demanding pace of his strokes slowed and Ash eased his grip on my hair.
I kissed his neck, tasting the faint tang of salt. My lips brushed over his skin as I spoke, “I love you.”
His entire body went rigid.
And then he surged upright against me, hard and fast three times. He said my name as we came, clutching me against him. As he pulsed inside me, I came too. I clung to him, riding out my orgasm as I listened to him whispering over and over again.
“I love you. Please, don't leave me.”
I loved him too, but the words in my head weren't me asking him not to leave me, so I didn't say them out loud. That didn't stop them from repeating in my mind though.
I love you. Please, don't hurt me.
Chapter 11
Ash
Isadora wisely kept up a running banter in the room. She almost sounded like her old self, but I could tell the difference. And I hated it. It made it that much more important that we find Trask and stop him. Personally, I wanted to be the one to find him. Find him and beat him to death with his own spine, but that wasn’t looking very likely.
Marcum had called with an update while Toni and I had still been...occupied upstairs. We'd moved from the reading room to my bedroom and I'd finally been able to take my time with her.
It still hadn't been enough time. I knew as soon as I'd brought her to climax again and again, felt her writhing in pleasure beneath me, that all the time in the world wouldn't be enough.
And then Isadora had been at my door, saying Marcum was on the phone and trying not to sound smug.
It had been only three hours since she'd left, and I hadn't been expecting a call any time before next week, especially after she'd told us to be patient. But then she’d called and sounded excited, said her partner had something. She’d be in touch.
I didn't know what that meant. He had something? What was it? What were they going to do about it? Would it lead them to Trask?
“You’re brooding.”
Toni’s soft voice, spoken directly into my ear, went straight to my cock. I had to fight the urge to turn to her and pull her closer. Kiss her. Lose myself in her. This wasn’t the time or the place, but I had too much tension built up inside me and I could think of only one way to burn it off.
Hell, I would've wanted her even if I hadn't been tense.
I still kept seeing her walking down the stairs with her suitcase in hand.
Nothing would erase that memory from my mind, but maybe if I had her wrapped around my cock for a good two or three hours a day for a couple weeks, a month, a year, the impact of what almost happened would lessen.
“Not going to talk to me?” Toni teased quietly.
“Too busy brooding.” I tried to smile, but didn’t do a very good job of it. Shooting a look at the clock, I muttered, “Why didn't she just tell us what the hell she had?”
Toni squeezed my hand. “If you keep staring at the clock, it’s going to make time go very, very slow.”
I brought her hand to my lips and kissed it before letting go. I leaned towards the table, glaring at my laptop as it sat open in front of me. Toni had sent me everything she'd gotten from her brother, but I didn't know why I bothered staring at it. I wouldn't find anything.
Trask had left the country after he'd gotten out of jail. If he wanted revenge, why hadn't he gotten it then? Had he only come back now because he was broke? Had he kidnapped Isadora to get money?
“He gets arrested fifteen years ago.” I was barely aware I was speaking out loud. “Gets out of jail ten years ago and moves. Comes back just as Isadora gets taken.” I ran my hand through my hair. I was overdue for a cut. “There's a record of him coming into the country, but nothing since.”
“Your mumbling is going to drive me crazy.” Toni ran her hand along my arm, and, for a moment, I let myself enjoy her touch, but then I focused back on the keyboard, trying to jog my brain into working.
Why couldn't we find him?
It hit me.
They hadn't been able to find the money he'd taken either.
“Son of a bitch.” I did a search of Trask's name, and pulled up everything I could find about the trial. I'd been a teenager when it first happened, but there was something I just remembered. “He had a partner. Or, at least, everyone had assumed he did. Reuben Stefanos. They never found him. Search warrants are still active.”