Ash to Steele

by Stewart, Karen-Anne

  His hand tugs harder, pulling my head back further as he pushes me against the wall, his mouth continuing to feed his fevered hunger as he moves from my lips to my neck. I quiver, and he tangles his hand further in my hair and grabs my wrist, pinning it against the wall above my head. My body writhes against his, needing to feel all of him. His mouth tortures my neck. The tip of his tongue slowly circles the soft spot between my collar bone before his teeth graze the sensitive skin behind my ear and I gasp, pushing my body against his, but his grip on my wrist tightens, holding me in place.

  Tearing his mouth from me, I can see the hunger in his eyes and on his swollen lips. “There’s something you need to know Emma. You will have to decide where we go from here once I tell you,” his voice is strained, and I can tell he’s scared of my reaction to whatever he is going to say.

  His grip on my wrist doesn’t ease as he holds nothing back, showing me his anger. I can taste his rage, his fear, as I’m held captive, unable to move, but I don’t want to move. His grip is dominating, but gentle, and my mind reels at the contradictions.

  “The name of the man who attacked you is Edwin. He lives at a rundown crack house twenty minutes from where you used to live. I went there that night, Emma. After he hurt you.”

  My heart pounds in my chest as he closes his eyes, squeezing them shut before opening them, his resolve is clear when my eyes widen, afraid to hear what he’s going to say next. “It was me who did what you saw when the police took you to identify him at the hospital before we came here.”

  Breck squeezes my wrist like he’s terrified if he lets me go I’m going to run, “The only reason he’s alive is because Gavin got to you in time.” His voice is low, raw, as he continues, “If he had raped you, I would have killed him, Emma. All of them.”

  I know I should feel something about what he just confessed. Fear, disgust, remorse…something, but I don’t. I saw the damage he did; I could barely recognize the man whose face I will never forget. At the hospital, when I saw the men who hurt James, who hurt me, I was sickened by the brutality they suffered. I wanted justice, but not that, not what happened to them. If it were anyone else telling me he savagely beat and would kill another human being, my reaction would be drastically different, but I don’t fear Breck, I can’t. What he did was wrong and I know it, but I’m just as wrong as he is for not blaming him.

  I see no guilt in Breck’s eyes, only gut wrenching sorrow as he finally lets me go. His head drops as he takes a step away from me, “Like I said, you deserve much better than someone like me.”

  I can’t find the words to say right now that would make him change his mind so I don’t say anything. Grabbing his wrist, I take his hand, slowly placing it against my cheek. My eyes never leave his as I kiss his palm. I watch the disbelief in his eyes slowly fade as I press each of his fingers to my lips, slowly kissing the tip of each of one. Kissing his wrist, I pull him towards me. “My decision is you. It has always been you, even before we met, I just didn’t know it yet.”

  “I’m poison for you,” he whispers with tears brimming his eyes, “but I can’t let you go.” Breck nearly groans, the pain from his words edged in his voice as he pulls me against his chest.

  “You don’t have to.” In his arms, he’s the more that I’ve needed, the more that I’ve waited for my entire life; there’s no doubt that this is where I belong.

  “I will do everything I can not to fuck this up,” he vows before his lips find mine again. “Emma,” he breathes into my ear, “I want to do right by you, take things slow. I don’t share your beliefs, but I respect you, and I won’t do anything to make you choose.”

  “Okay,” I whisper against his chest as he brushes a soft kiss against my forehead, closing my eyes at the heaviness in my heart at how I feel my faith slipping and at how much pain he is in.

  There’s a difference in his touch when his mouth claims me again. The intensity is just as fierce as it was before, but his kiss is soft, gentle, and tenderly passionate. His tongue sweeps across the sensitive fullness of my lips, still swollen from the kisses before, causing an eruption of emotions inside of me. I’m powerless, completely at his mercy, and I’m ambivalent about the free fall sending me spiraling into his control. He goes against everything I believe, but how I feel for him seems just as strong of a truth, making my faith in him undeniable.

  “Right now, I just want to hold you,” he tells me right before lifting me in his arms, “and maybe taste your lips a little more.”

  Laying me on the bed, he pulls me against him, brushing the hair off my neck as his thumb traces the line of my jaw, my bottom lip, then his mouth takes over showing me what he hasn’t said yet. I need to hear those words, but, for now, I’ll take what he is able to give.

  ͠

  It’s been ten weeks since the attack, since Breck first kissed me, since my entire world changed when Breck told me he was mine. He has held true to his word and has taken things slow, not once asking to make love to me. He hasn’t told me he loves me yet, either. Pathetically, I wait every day to hear those words, but they never come.

  The new apartment is much nicer than the last, but it’s also a lot more in rent. Breck tried to find out my financial situation, but I need to make it on my own, so I’ve lied. I still haven’t told Dad about what happened, I don’t want to. It happened; I can’t change it, but it no longer affects my life, so why should it his? Braden treats me like I’m broken since he saw the proof of that night still on my face when I returned to work. He walks me to my car and has stayed every night that I’ve worked late. It’s obvious that Breck isn’t handling that very well, especially with the way he glares at Braden when he stops by to take me to lunch and Braden touches my arm or brushes up against me when I’m showing him something.

  Justin still calls, but I’ve made it clear there will never be anything more between us than friendship. Breck doesn’t like when he calls, but Justin doesn’t seem to bother him as much as Braden does; I guess the distance plays the factor in that. I can see Breck’s struggle with his jealousy. It’s amazing that he’s jealous when it’s him who gets all the attention everywhere we go. It’s hell watching women make no qualms showing him that they are his for the taking.

  “Bye, Tammy,” I call as I head out the door of the gallery. I’ve spent too many sleepless nights painting, trying to complete the new series of works I want to show Mr. Mazers, that is, if he will allow me to have another chance. These paintings are different than any I’ve ever painted before, but I feel they are also the best I’ve ever painted before, too. Breck’s been my inspiration for the mixture of expressionism and abstraction styles I’ve chosen for the ethereal series. My favorite is the angel. His withered wings are tainted, broken, as they fall, wrapped around the damaged angel as he kneels, staring at the sky. There’s a sorrow in his eyes contradicting the light surrounding him as he struggles to stand. Jess’ favorite is the female angel, darkness engulfing her in the shadows as she fights to break free.

  Placing the key in the ignition, my car sputters, refusing to crank. “No, no, no,” I groan, stomping the floor board. Breck’s at Kylianna’s and Jess is at the bar. Trying a few more times, it refuses to start. Groaning, I hesitantly call Breck, not wanting to take him away from work.

  “Hi, Beautiful,” Breck answers.

  “Hi, yourself. You busy?”

  “Just getting ready to head to the Dark Hole to meet Gavin for a drink. You’d think on his night off he would want to go somewhere else. Why?”

  “My car won’t start, but it’s okay. I’ll take the subway; I don’t want to ruin your plans.”

  “I’m on my bike, but I will pick you up. I don’t like you being on the subway this time of night. Stay in your car, I’ll be there in a few.”

  I hear the Harley before I see it. Breck parks next to me, removing his helmet. His blue eyes shine under the pale light of the street lamp, sending decadent shivers as strong as an electric current. I miss falling asleep in his arms; we
haven’t slept in the same bed since New York. I know it’s because he’s trying to follow through on his promise to take things slow, but I ache for him. He’s done nothing more than kiss me, making me feel like the wanton one by wanting so much more, especially since his kisses leave me writhing in desire. If I hadn’t seen the proof myself, I would never have believed his reputation.

  “You can open the door now, Em,” he teases as he pulls on the handle, pulling me out of my sexual fog.

  “Sorry,” I stammer. Pointing nervously at his bike, I ask, “Don’t you think it’s still a little chilly to be riding that, even with the warm front.”

  Chuckling, he sits on the seat, crossing his feet and arms as he looks at me, his eyes gleaming sinfully when he challenges, “Scared?”

  He knows I’ve never been on a bike in my entire unadventurous life. “No. I’ve always wanted to ride a Harley,” I answer honestly. I’ve been anxiously waiting until Spring to ask him to take me out for a ride. I guess I’ll get my chance a few days early.

  “Think you can handle it?” he smirks, laughing at me.

  Wanting to bury my fingers in his sexy, disheveled brown locks and pull his cocky mouth to my lips, his laugh does wicked things to me and my body shivers involuntarily.

  “Here, take my jacket, the wind is much colder on the bike,” Breck offers, mistaking the reason for my reaction. Tossing me his helmet, he pats the seat, “C’mon, Em, I’m getting ready to give you the ride of your life.” His eyes sparkle as his lips curve into a sensual smile, torturing me.

  “Where’s your helmet?”

  “Only have one.”

  I hand it back, “I’m just going to take the subway, I-”

  Breck’s fingers cover my mouth, cutting me off, effectively stripping the air from my lungs as he brushes them lightly against my lips. “Shut up, put the helmet on, and get on the back of my bike, stubborn ass woman,” he teases.

  When his finger leaves my lips, I can still feel the lingering warmth as I climb on the bike behind him.

  “You are going to have to hold onto me tight, Em,” he tells me, grabbing my wrists and pulling them around his waist, locking my hands against his firm muscles.

  A sharp intake of breath fills my lungs with the cool night air. The feel of Breck’s strong back against my breasts makes me want to feel him skin to skin.

  “Hang on,” Breck warns, revving the bike before pulling out into the heavy traffic.

  The wind is cold, but the warmth of his body makes it bearable. When he accelerates, a feeling of pure exhilaration sizzles through me and I hold him tighter, yelling for him to go faster.

  “Anything you want, baby,” he laughs, revving the bike faster.

  “Where are you going?” I yell in his ear when he passes the street to my apartment.

  “I called Gavin, told him about my change of plans. There’s somewhere I want to show you if you aren’t too cold,” he calls over his shoulder.

  “I’m fine,” I assure him, loving the excitement being with him always gives me, especially with the added thrill and freedom holding on to him on the back of his Harley provides. The cool, crisp air only adds to the elation.

  A few minutes later, Breck pulls into an old harbor port, letting the bike idle for a few seconds before turning the key. My heart pounds as I slide off the bike and he does the same before patting the seat as he throws his leg back over the side and sits backwards on the seat in front of me, a carnal gleam blazing in his eyes as he removes my helmet. “So, how was your first time?” he whispers, his voice low, deep.

  I can tell he’s going somewhere with this and my mouth goes dry. Running my tongue slowly across my lips, I can’t suppress my grin, “It was amazing.”

  Breck places his hands on the outside of my thighs and leans his mouth close to mine, “Have you ever came before, Emma?”

  “Came here?” I ask, confused, looking at the beauty of the moonlight spilling across the water in front of the abandoned dock, “I’ve never been here before; it’s beautiful.”

  Breck softly shakes his head, chuckling, “That’s not what I meant, Emma. Have you ever had an orgasm?”

  My gaze falls as my cheeks flame, “No. I told you that I’ve never had sex before.”

  Another laugh leaves his tempting lips, “My sweet, innocent, Emma. You don’t have to have sex to experience a release.” Lowering his head even closer to my lips, he brushes them against mine, “Let me prove it to you.”

  I feel the rapid beat of my heart in my throat as he traces his fingers slowly down my cheek, grinning when he hears me inhale sharply.

  “I won’t even remove a shred of clothing from you other than my jacket.” He wraps his fingers in my windblown hair as he lowers his mouth to my neck. His breath warms my skin as his lips skim against my collarbone.

  Closing my eyes, the sensations are almost too much to take when his tongue leaves a heated trail just below my ear. Leaning my head to the side, I give him easy access. His grip tightens on my hair, tugging lightly as he uses his other hand to slide his jacket off my shoulders before running his hand down my side, sliding it behind my waist and resting it against my bottom. With one swift move, he pulls me closer to him, pressing my knees against the inside of his thighs as he spreads his legs wider, scooting me even closer.

  His mouth never leaves my skin as my body goes weak. His hands hold me steady, firmly, as he releases my hair, sliding his fingers down my neck, over my shirt, stopping at my chest.

  I gasp when his mouth moves to the soft, sensitive spot between my collarbone while his thumb slowly circles over my right nipple. My body moves on its own, pulled magnetically towards him, as I press my knees tighter against his thighs while his thumb teases my nipple in the sweetest torture, causing my lower belly to constrict.

  A low moan escapes as his other hand slides lower. When his fingers slide between my legs, rubbing against the dark denim of my jeans, I press myself against his hand, throwing my head back further. I grip the edges of the seat behind me when Breck shifts my hips forward, his fingers sliding down my covered throbbing heat.

  Pushing against my shirt, he slides my bra down, until he feels the hard tip of my nipple. He lowers his mouth against the thin cotton and I jump at the touch. “Do you want me to stop?” he whispers, his fingers never relenting from their rubbing and circling against the heat radiating between my legs.

  “I-I don’t know,” I admit, breathlessly.

  “You don’t know, huh? That’s a pretty gray area, Emma,” he tells me huskily while his lips brush across my cotton covered nipple, sending electric tingles from my chest straight to the moist area I’m spreading wider. “I can do gray. I can do the hell out of gray.”

  Breck’s thumb pushes harder against my sex, intensifying the sensations that are already pushing me rapidly towards the edge. He quickens his movements, pressing firmly against me as he alternates between rubbing his thumb up and down and softly circling. I tighten my grip on the leather seat of the Harley. My hair blows in the wind, the ends softly brushing against the seat and sides of the bike as I lean by head back more, biting my lip when his touch elicits more moans that I can’t control. I feel my lower belly tighten, and I push harder against Breck’s hand while his thumb works its wicked magic, submitting me to his control.

  “I want to hear you, Emma. I want to hear you when you come.” Breck gently grazes his teeth against my shirt, pulling my covered nipple into his mouth as he suckles.

  My back arches, and he presses his hand against my back, pushing my chest further into his mouth. The tension building inside of me drives me insane, and I squirm against him, against the seat, not knowing if I should try to stop him or beg him to never stop.

  His hand presses firmly against my back, holding me in place. “Let me hear what you’re feeling, Emma,” he growls and I obey, releasing my lip, allowing the moan to fill the night air.

  The tension builds higher and I feel so unbelievably good right now, like I’m on the sw
eetest hedonic high, and I feel as if I’m going to burst. “Ahhh,” I gasp, squirming again.

  I feel his fingers pressing into my back, “That’s it, baby, come on, let go for me.”

  With three quick, hard thrusts of his thumb between my thighs, the tension builds violently, and I arch my hips, pushing myself against Breck, completely at his mercy as he drives me insane, making me feel like I’m going to explode. My body stiffens and begins to tremble.

  “You’re close, Emma,” he breathes against my breast before suckling harder. His hand slips under my shirt as he presses it against my back, holding me firmly in place. “Hold on, baby,” he whispers, twirling his tongue over my nipple and grazing it between his teeth as his fingers join his thumb, rubbing, circling, teasing, until I feel the heat burning through my jeans.

  A purely intoxicating shudder runs from my toes to the top of my head as I feel myself shattering into a million exquisite pieces and my loud cry pierces the air. The magnificent intensity of my release weakens me, draining me of every bit of strength I have as I collapse against Breck, my body trembling from the after effects.

  He tangles his hand in my hair, holding me tightly against him as I lay my head on his shoulder, my heart pounding furiously, gloriously, as the pulsating between my legs leaves me breathless. Breck keeps his hand underneath my shirt as he slides it higher up my back, his fingers teasing my skin as he brushes his lips against my hair.

  Finally finding the strength to raise my head, I feel the blush spread across my cheeks. Surprisingly, I don’t feel shame, just freer than ever before and, maybe, a little shy. Something about Breck takes away the guilt and I’m bewildered at how something I know is wrong can feel so amazingly wonderful. I know what I should feel will come later.