“Are you okay?” I can’t help asking.
“I’m fine, but are you?” He stares at me, and even in the dark, I feel his gaze swallowing me whole. Being in the center of Asher’s attention is like that, overwhelming and uncut.
He reaches a hand to my face but stops midway, clenching it into a fist and letting it drop to his lap. “I should’ve killed that fucker slower.”
It should scare me that he’s thinking about murder and ending lives, but I hated Ivan too much to care. Besides, Asher always had this side to him, ever since high school, the side that needs to hurt and maim, the side that was once unleashed on me.
But he stopped himself; he always stopped himself when it came to me. A part of him might have wanted to kill me because of the grudge Arianna left between us, but the other part couldn’t stop wanting to be close to me.
“Reina or Rai or whoever you want to be.” His hold on my hand tightens as he straightens and lowers his voice. “I fucked up. I know I did and it was bad. I can lie to you and say I never wanted to hurt you, but that would be a lie and I promised myself I’d never lie to you again. So here’s the uncensored version, prom queen. I wanted to hurt you. I thought if I hurt you, if I erased you from this world, then it would stop the fucking urge that’s been gripping me for three years. But the closer I got to my goal, the emptier it felt. It was even more fucking pathetic than in high school when I was beating people up for talking to you. When I watched you hanging from the roof that day, I wanted to keep you, and since then, with everything I did, you stood back up, and that made me want to have you more.
“That’s what I want to do with you all the time, Reina. I want to dominate you, hurt you, but only so I can hear you scream in pleasure. I want to keep you, to have you, to play games with you, not against you. If you want nothing to do with me, it’d be the smarter choice. No one would blame you.”
I stare at him after he finishes talking. His words hit a deep place inside me that’s been yearning for something like that, for something true and raw from him.
He’s still a psycho in some ways and I can’t completely forgive what he did to me, how he tormented me, but I can see why he was compelled to do it. I can also see how he stopped every time.
I can also see the boy I used to sit with because his presence tuned down the chaos from the outside world. He made it safe and pleasant and then I had to screw him over and act cold because I was scared of him, of what he was offering, of what I’ve been feeling.
Yes, I could make him grovel for what he did, I could delay this and hold on and make him fall to his knees. But when Ivan was beating me up, I had an epiphany: life is too short to delay things. You never know what will happen tomorrow, so the present is all you get to make a difference.
Besides, he can grovel while he’s glued to my side.
“Just so you know,” he says when I remain silent, “if you do want to stay away, I can’t promise I will. I’ll keep trying until you’ll have me again.”
“What if I don’t?” I keep my voice nonchalant.
“I’ll keep trying until you take me.”
“I love you, Ash. I always have.” The words slip out of me so easily, it’s baffling that I never said them out loud before.
He pauses, his breathing turning harsh, almost animalistic. “Always?”
“Always.”
“Even when you were cold and standoffish?”
I laugh. “Especially when I was cold and standoffish. It was a façade, Ash. The deeper my feelings ran for you, the harder I tried to kill them.”
He’s quiet for a second as if mulling my words over. When he speaks, my heart stops beating. “I love you, too, Reina. You’re my first and last.”
“You’re my first and last too.” I retrieve the ring Reina gave me. “Now, give me a decent proposal, because I don’t remember the last one.”
Five years later
“Ash…Ash…”
“What is it, prom queen?” He slows down, his hips rolling in an unhurried rhythm as he pins my throat to the ground.
He’s fucking me from the side at the entrance. The moment I walked into our apartment, he grabbed me by the throat and wrapped his other hand around my eyes, making the world black and more…thrilling.
Then he threw me to the ground, tore my clothes off like a caveman, and made me lie on my side so he could fuck me deep and fast.
It’s a game we sometimes play, the unknown. It always makes me so wanton and I come harder than ever before.
Asher’s intense side is my heaven. With each touch and stroke, I fall deeper and harder for him.
In public, I’m his queen; in bed, I’m his most obedient slut, the one he pleasures every night and in the morning before we go to work.
His hand never leaves my throat as he rams into me. His arm crushes my breast, making my nipples throb with the need to be bitten, touched, and tortured by him.
Now, of all times, he slows his pace. He can’t just leave me hanging after all that build-up; I’m about to explode.
“Harder, you fucking asshole.”
He laughs, the sound harsh and dark. “That’s not how it works. Say the words.”
Usually, all I have to do is say ‘please’, but today, I’m aching for a strong release, so I say, “I’m yours, only yours, Ash.”
“Yes, you are,” he grunts as he thickens inside me until I can feel him stretch me all over again. He slides out almost entirely then slams back in again.
Once.
Twice.
The third time, my nails dig into his arm as my lips part in a wordless cry.
The release crashes into me as he captures my mouth in a ravenous kiss and pounds into me harder and faster. My pulse heightens and my whimpers are shaky with the strength of it.
I can’t breathe. No, I don’t want to breathe.
I want to take him in at his rawest form, all uncut and mine. My best friend, my husband, and my number one supporter.
His kiss turns breathless and out of control as his cum fills me. We both sigh into each other’s mouth at the same time, but we don’t stop kissing.
His hand strokes my throat as he opens my mouth and fucks my tongue with his. I don’t know how long we remain on the carpet as he kisses the ever-loving daylights out of me.
All I know is that I become too sleepy and exhausted; he always has that effect on me. Every time he thoroughly fucks me, I sleep like a baby afterward—that is if he doesn’t wake me up in the middle of the night for another round.
He slips out of me and I moan at the emptiness as his cum streaks between my thighs. I love this feeling a bit too much.
As always, Asher carries me in his arms toward our bedroom. I lean over and suck on the skin of his neck, kissing along it with everything I have.
“Careful there, prom queen—you’re asking for it again.” He smirks down at me.
I hit his chest. “Stop it.”
He has aged like a fine wine, still as attractive as sin, if not a bit more lethal. Now, women don’t leave him alone. I’m always tempted to shove the wedding ring in their faces.
I don’t need to, though. Asher has never looked at another woman. Hell, he barely has time to take care of work and meet up with his friends due to his fixation on me. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve found him watching me intently, as if he doesn’t believe we’re actually together.