She traced a finger over his bicep, leaving a smudge of charcoal on him. She liked the look of the mark, one that said he was hers. The way animals marked their territory, she had marked him unwittingly. She bent her head down and kissed the center of his chest, relishing the soft crush of hair there. She kissed her way down his abdomen until she reached his firm thickness. She slipped her mouth over it, her tongue caressing the tender skin of his erection. She heard his breath hitch as she suckled him, and used the tips of her fingers to massage his balls. She felt him twitch beneath her tongue, his legs wrapping around her tightly as he reared beneath her.
His fingers tangled in her hair as she savored his taste. It was salty and sweaty and like a hard day’s work, or perhaps a hard night’s.
Releasing him from the grip of her pleasuring mouth, she lifted her head, then slithered her fingers up his side, across his chest until she landed on the smudge she’d made earlier. “I’ve painted, you,” she teased. He tipped his head forward to look at the mark.
“So you have,” he said, grinning. “I must return the favor.” He raised an eyebrow as he sat up, then pulled her into his arms, kissing her, nipping at her lip, sliding his fingers over her bare back. Ash released her briefly, long enough to slide out of the bed. Then he turned back to her, took her into his arms and carried her around to the foot of the bed, where he set her down, facing the footboard.
“You know,” Ash said. “I’m somewhat of an artist, too. I’ll paint you my way. Bend over, and hold on to the bed post.”
Ella did as she was told, a little uncertain. Her legs spread, she leaned forward, putting both hands on the railing. She felt Ash behind her. With one hand, he stroked her butt cheeks and with the other slid a finger inside her, lightly stroking the sides of each lip, exploring her moistness, dipping in and out to make her wetter. He leaned over her and kissed her neck, electrifying her body in the process. She arched her back, wanting him to go deeper.
“You ready to be my masterpiece?” he whispered in her ear.
“Yes,” she breathed out and he withdrew his slick fingers and plunged himself deep into her, hot and heavy, with determination. And it did feel like he wanted to paint her. He stroked her insides with grace like a painter, sometimes swift and sometimes slow and gentle, other times with firm pressure that made her quiver. He kissed along her back as he did so bringing his hands to her breasts, titillating her nipples. He was definitely a master at this, his deft attention to every detail of her body. Her legs trembled as he toyed with her insides, filling her completely, luxuriating in her juices, like she was his own personal sauna.
She cried out his name. “Ash,” and it was a ragged gasp, desperate for relief. She felt her legs quiver as her insides spasmed. She had reached her limit and she felt wave after wave of warm sweet release. He stroked once more, pulled out, quickly and turned her round, so she was facing him. Grabbing her ass, he lifted her gently and placed her on the bed. She lay back, exhausted, her legs dangling over the foot of the bed.
He towered over her, still erect, his organ throbbing. He leaned over her belly, and she reached out and stroked him, her hands deftly gliding over him, feeling the smooth, slick skin beneath her fingers, enthralled by the way it responded to her. And after a moment, more he removed her hand from him, and then she watched as he released on her tummy, a creamy gooey heap on her abdomen. It was warm as it oozed over her. For good measure, he dipped the head of his cock in the juice and swirled it around.
He stepped back then leaned over her. “Do you like your painting?”
She giggled, then tipped forward and kissed him. “I haven’t quite decided yet,” she said, with a wink. “I may need you to show it to me again later.”
He laughed as he walked over to a nearby table and grabbed a cloth. He walked back to her and lay down on the bed. She wiped herself and curled up next to him. She was tired, so she closed her eyes for just a moment.
She awoke a little later, exhausted, yet completely relaxed. She hadn’t felt this way in ages. She supposed she’d felt a little like this the other day. Physically, she’d felt this way, but tonight she felt mentally carefree. Which was silly, because she was anything but carefree. She still had her stepmother to worry about. It was a particularly delicate situation now that Lord Angleton was involved, yet nothing of that seemed to bother her. She felt happy, even though she shouldn’t.
She turned to look at Ash, who had fallen asleep. She laughed and thought that she was the novice who should be tuckered out by such activity. But he was the one sound asleep. He looked so peaceful while he slept.
And it struck her then, that this was how she would like to draw him. She went to the easel, grabbed the canvas, then came over to the bed with her charcoal and began to sketch.
* * *
Ashton rolled over, intending to slide his arm around Cinders and pull her closer, but when he reached out, he felt only air. He opened his eyes to find he was the only occupant of the bed. The good humor he’d been in during slumber faded as he realized she had left him. He looked around the room and saw a rolled up sheet of paper in his chair and another smaller scrap of paper next to it. He walked over and unrolled a sheet. It was a chalk drawing of him, sleeping. He marveled at the detail, the perfect rendering of his hair, his closed eyes, the line of his nose, the curve of his lips. She had done it. It was a drawing of him.
A wave of grief hit him as it occurred to him that, having completed her task, she might not come back. And he had no way to find her. He reached down and picked up the smaller scrap of paper. It was a note, written in the loveliest script he had ever laid eyes upon.
Ash,
I had to go. My mistress would kill me if she found out I’d snuck out. I’m leaving this drawing for you because I want you to know that I can do it. I won’t freeze again. I think I just got nervous this time and spent too much time thinking on how to do it, when I really just needed to do it.
I will come back in five days, on Thursday, if that’s alright and I will do a proper portrait of you.
-Cinders
Chapter 20
Ella had managed to sneak out again on Thursday night. She was still exhausted from their last meeting. The effects of losing a few hours of sleep in one night tended to linger with Ella for days. She wanted to see Ash, and she felt it worth the risk. But, being worth the risk didn’t make her body need sleep any less. She ignored her fatigue as she trudged to the castle. She’d brought spare drawing paper again and charcoals like before, even though she knew Ash had provided them last time. She liked her own coals, rather than someone else’s. Hers seemed to fit right in her hands, and the pictures flowed better.
When she arrived, Heinrich greeted her kindly again. This time, though, he said, “Cinders, next time, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t leave while he was sleeping. He came out in quite a foul humor, knowing I’d let you go without him knowing.”
Ella felt bad. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know he’d be upset with you. He just looked so peaceful sleeping. I didn’t want to wake him.”
Heinrich nodded.
“Next time, I won’t go unless he’s awake. I promise.”
“Thank you, milady,” he said. They had arrived at the door. Heinrich opened it for Ella and she went inside.
Ash was sitting in his chair, as usual. She smiled at the thought of that. As usual. She liked that this was something usual for them. It was nice to have a routine she enjoyed, even if it was one that would have to end soon. Once Marigold was betrothed, she planned to leave. And yes, she believed Marigold would be the sister betrothed, rather than Bathilda. Her stepmother had left her alone with Uncle Bart, so Ella had pointed out Marigold’s fine qualities and even managed to sneak him a drawing she’d done that featured only Marigold. She’d told Uncle Bart she thought Charles might like it. Bathilda was vapid and narcissistic, while Marigold seemed to have genuinely taken an interest in Charles and liked him. Her hope was that everyone would get what the
y wanted. Uncle Bart would have a bride for his son. Lady Kenna would have one daughter betrothed. Marigold would have Charles’ heart. And Ella… well, she wouldn’t win a heart. But with what Ash was paying her, she’d have enough to leave.
She was optimistic it would be far enough away, especially with Mari betrothed. Surely, Lady Kenna would not pursue Ella with Lord Angleton watching her every move. She wouldn’t risk Marigold’s marriage prospects to chase after Ella.
“Cinders,” Ash called, pulling Ella from her thoughts. She turned to him, a smile on her face. Only, he wasn’t smiling. “You left without saying goodbye.”
Ella frowned. “I didn’t realize it would bother you,” she said, walking over to him. She reached a hand out and stroked his cheek. “You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you.”
He kissed the hand on his face. “It was considerate of you to think of my sleep, but I don’t like waking up alone, after I fall asleep with you in my arms,” he said, as he pulled her down onto his lap, and then kissed her lips. “I’m glad you came back.”
She smiled at him. “Of course I came back,” she said. “What kind of artist would I be if I didn’t fulfill my end of the bargain? And if I were that kind of artist, I’d never work again. You’d bad-mouth me to the King.”
Ash shook his head. “I’d never bad-mouth you to anyone,” he said, as he kissed her ear. “And what makes you think I’m close to the King?”
“My friend says you’re a cousin of the royal family. I bet you’re the best friend of the hidden prince.”
Ash pulled back from her. “Is that what they call m—” he started, then paused, “my cousin. They call him the ‘hidden prince’?”
Ella laughed. “Gosh, it sounds so awful when you say it,” she admitted. “But, yes, that’s what they call him. It shouldn’t bother you or your family. It’s not an insult. The mystery of the prince’s appearance is quite the allure. People revere him all the more for remaining sequestered. They suspect it means that he will be humble and wise like his father.”
Ash nodded, the hint of a smile on his lips. He ran his fingers along the side of her dress, his fingers slowly creeping up her back, toward the fasteners that held it together. She relished the feel of his fingers through the thin layer of cotton.
She leaned forward, her forehead touching his and pressed her lips to his. Ash’s lips were soft and supple, firmly pushing against hers, his tongue exploring her mouth. He was hot and fervent in his kisses, and she felt him tugging the dress loose from her.
It was clear what he wanted, and she wanted it too. It was the one luxury she’d had since she’d been living with her stepmother. A warm, loving embrace. His arms were passion and safety and warmth and kindness, something she had been systemically denied for the past nine years.
Her hands found his body and began pulling at his clothes, tugging them away. Fingers moved deftly to defrock him. She’d removed his shirt, but with him sitting in the chair, he was still half clothed. Ella slid from his lap and kneeled in front of him on the floor. She grabbed his pants waist and began pulling off his trousers. He smiled at her as she pulled the pants off his legs and beyond his feet.
She pulled off his knickers next, revealing his cock, firm and rigid. She glided her hand along his thigh, the hair tickling the pads of her fingers as she slowly traced towards his balls. When she reached them, she massaged them with her fingers, and heard him breathe out a hearty moan of pleasure as he tipped his head back.
She leaned forward and licked his erection, feeling it stiffen even more as she did so. His skin was soft and warm. She placed her mouth over the tip, suckling him, and feeling him tense beneath her. Her tongue licked the rim of the tip and Ash’s breath hitched. She used her fingers to nuzzle his sack as she took more of him in her mouth. She enjoyed the taste of him, the feel of him under her tongue as she bobbed her head. An occasional rasp escaped his lips as she suckled him. He slid his fingers into her hair, pulling her closer to him as she sucked, taking in more of him. His hands tightened in her hair as his ecstasy increased. She heard him moan out, “Cinders,” and a moment later, he spurted into her mouth, a warm, sticky goo. It was a bit of shock, but unsure what else to do, she just swallowed it down and released his cock from her mouth.
He smiled down at her, then leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. “Let’s not forget about you,” he said. He stood and walked her over to the bed. He motioned for her to lay down, which she did. “Close your eyes,” he said.
She looked up at him, curious. “Why?”
“Must you always question what you’re told to do?”
She chuckled. Only with him. “You’re the only person who ever answers my questions, so sometimes my desire for answers outweighs my obedience.”
Ash smiled at her. “I must admit, I do like your questions. But, this once, I shall say it is a surprise.”
She closed her eyes and relaxed, in anticipation of his surprise, though she had some idea of what he was up to. She planned to enjoy his treat. Only, he didn’t come to her immediately. He came only after she heard the rustling of fabric, and perhaps papers. She was curious as to what he could be doing, but she didn’t know.
“Do you trust me?” Ash asked.
She opened her eyes now, too intrigued by the question to keep them closed. He was staring at her, holding slips of long rectangular fabric in his hands. Did she trust Ash, the man whose real name she didn’t know? As she stared into his hazel eyes, earnest and kind, the candlelight of the room reflecting in them, she knew she trusted him. She nodded. He walked over to her, grabbed the hem of her dress and helped Ella slide out of it. He pulled off her knickers, so she was naked, and then he said. “Spread your arms, and I’m going to tie them to the bed post.”
Ella raised an eyebrow.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said. “But I want to be the one in control of your pleasure. Just for right now.”
She still wasn’t entirely sure.
“I let you be in control of what happened over there,” he said. “Let me take the reins for the moment right here. As you like to say, it’s only fair.”
She laughed. “Done in by my own words,” she said. “Fine, have your way with me,”
With a raised brow, he said. “Oh, I intend to.”
Ella spread her arms and Ash tied one to each of the bedposts at the head of the bed. The ties restrained her movement, but were still soft and fairly comfortable.
She nestled her backside into the mattress to get comfortable, and soon she saw Ash spreading her legs, a smile on his lips as he looked at the blond tuft of hair between her legs.” Close your eyes, Cinders,” he whispered. “And relax.”
She did as she was told, enjoying the soft comfort of the bed, so much more comfortable than the accommodations she usually slept upon. Ash’s soft fingers slid up her leg, starting at each ankle, gliding up the inner calf, to the bend of the kneed, then the inner thigh. The soft tingling sensation on her legs awakened her insides. She could feel herself moistening with his ginger touch. One hand continued to glide across her hairy lips and straight inside her moistness. She quaked at his touch, two long thick fingers pushing inside her, drawing out more wetness.
Gasping, she opened her thighs wider and felt a hand push under ass, squeezing her cheek as the other hand thrust further inside her. Greedy for deeper pleasure, she arched her back and tried to lean into it. Her arms, tied to the bedposts, made it harder for her to slide further down. And part of her wanted to touch Ash, to feel his skin close to hers, to run her fingers through his silky hair. Only, Ash had tied her up and she couldn't move her arms. Still, her legs were hers. Or were they? She felt Ash's fingers leave her and his hands, one still slick from being inside her, grabbed hold of her thighs and his tongue plummeted into her opening.
She melted into his tongue, her body convulsing beneath its prowess, as he touched her in ways she didn't know imaginable. He lapped at her insides, causing her nectar to flow even more now, an
d she shuddered as he brought her to ecstasy.
He pulled back and for a moment, he was away from her. Then she felt something sliding inside her. Only it wasn't him, and it wasn't his finger. It felt long and hard and thick and cool. She opened her eyes to see what it was and he was looking right at her when she did. He shook his head.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
“What is it?”
“A maulstick,” he said. “Enjoy it.”
A maulstick. She almost laughed, thinking of the small thick pole artists sometimes used when they worked. It generally was used as an armrest or support. While the rod was long and straight, many (this one included) had a slightly rounded tip, sort of like a man. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation. It was thick and hard and Ash seemed to know how to position it perfectly.
She felt herself clenching around it, taking it in the way she might take Ash in. His fingers grazed her thigh as he thrust inside her, a steady, controlled pace. Her mouth opened, shoving out a breath.
“You’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” Ash said, and she felt him plunge deeper into her. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to make him feel as good as he was making her feel. She reached an arm toward him, only to feel it pulled back by the ties.
She took a breath and relaxed her arms, deciding to only focus on Ashton, on what his touch did to her, to enjoying every ounce of his giving, in accepting it for the moment. Her body shivered as he worked the maulstick inside of her, while at the same time, licking her breasts. Oh. It felt. So. Good. Her labored breathing filled her own ears as she felt him suckle her nipples and pick up his pace with his rod. Soon, she fell apart beneath his touch, finally writhing beneath him, as she came.
Cinders & Ash: A Cinderella Story (Passion-Filled Fairy Tales Book 3) Page 11
