Forbidden Hunger (Forbidden series Book 3) Read online

  Ignoring my throbbing cock, I trace a path with my thumb from the corner of her mouth to the bridge of her cheekbone. “It’s all right,” I repeat.

  The storm in her eyes tells me what we both know: that nothing is all right. She cleans up the mess and gets out another stick of butter. It’s not softened, like the one she dropped; it’s difficult to spread across the rolls.

  It seems like a metaphor for the entire meal, which is full of awkward silences. There are too many things we can’t say, and neither of us can bridge the gap and find a safe, neutral topic of conversation.

  After dinner, I stare unseeing at the television while Tori retreats to her room. My cock wants me to follow her, to tear down the walls between us and make her mine in all the ways that matter.

  I don’t ... but I know what I’ll be doing at bedtime. It’ll be me and my hand again, dreaming of Tori, finding a release that’s less satisfying each time it happens.

  I don’t know how much longer I can stand this.

  8

  I’ve told Ashton he doesn’t need to send Hugh to pick me up after school; I enjoy the walk. But I’m not expecting the sudden squall that blows in on my way home. By the time I get to the apartment, I’m drenched to the skin.

  Ashton’s already home when I go in. “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  He hesitates, then says, “I wasn’t getting any work done anyway. But never mind that; hurry up and get changed, before you get sick.”

  I look down. “I’m dripping all over the carpet. I’ll go change in the laundry room.”

  Of course, once I peel my sodden clothes off, there’s nothing to put on. I dig through the laundry basket and find one of Ashton’s shirts. It smells like him, and I pull it on, wrapping him around me.

  His scent seems to seep into my pores, into my very being. My eyes close, and without any conscious volition, I start to touch myself. One hand cups my breast through the shirt, the thumb rubbing my nipple, while the other hand parts my folds and strokes my clit.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been standing there when I sense a presence. My eyes open to see Ashton in the doorway, staring at me. Heat rushes to my cheeks, but I don’t stop. It’s as if someone I don’t even know has taken over my body.

  He doesn’t say anything, just watches me. After a few seconds, his hand closes over his pants, and he starts to rub himself through his clothing. My breath catches at the outline of his cock – it seems so big.

  We stare at each other, our hands working, neither of us moving closer to the other. I can’t believe I’m doing this – part of me is shocked. Mostly, though, I’m getting more and more turned on by him watching me.

  Finally, I come, with a gasping moan that rends the stillness. Ashton blinks, as if he’s waking from a dream. Then he turns and walks away.

  After a moment, I follow him, still in his shirt, to find dinner on the table. He sits down and starts to serve the food as if nothing happened. I sit down too – I’m not hungry, but I’m incapable of being away from him right now.

  I have to force myself to eat. Ashton is trying to pretend that everything is normal, but his eyes keep wandering to my chest, where my nipples are poking against his shirt. Every time, he forces his gaze away, but it always comes back.

  It seems to take forever for us to eat, but at last we’re done. When Ashton clears his plate and starts to leave, I can’t take it anymore.

  “Ashton.” He freezes, but doesn’t say anything. Slowly, as if I were approaching a wild animal, I go up to him.

  When I put a hand on his arm, a muscle jumps in his jaw. “I know we shouldn’t,” I whisper. “But I want you. We have almost two weeks; isn’t that enough?”

  Part of me knows better, that it will never be enough. I’m ready for both of us to believe the lie if it will end this torment.

  He looks down at me, his eyes dark. “You won’t be able to control me.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “I might be rough,” he goes on, as if I haven’t spoken.

  “I don’t care.”

  Angry color stains his cheeks; he’s almost trembling, he’s wrestling so hard with himself. “Will you care if I turn you over my knee and spank you?”

  I suck in a breath. Heat shoots from my nipples to my clit. “I want you to.”

  “Last chance, Tori.”

  I squeeze his arm. “Please, Ashton. Take me.”

  The next instant, I’m draped over his shoulder, my head hanging down his back as he strides through the apartment. My heart is racing like a rabbit’s; it’s thrilling to feel his strength, his power.

  I’ve never been in his bedroom. When he sets me down, I see that it’s dominated by an enormous bed. I don’t have time for more before he sits on the edge of it and tugs me down across his lap.

  I’m too turned on to be scared. His hand moves the shirt, baring my ass, then comes down. A flash of pain rockets through me, quickly turning to a tingling heat that radiates through my pussy.

  He rubs my stinging flesh, then spanks me again, and again, his hand soothing me in between each blow. The only shock is how much I like it, how wet it’s making me.

  I lose track of how many times he spanks me – fifteen? twenty? – before he stops. When his hand moves between my legs and finds my slippery folds, I moan.

  “Fuck, Tori,” he says. “You’re so wet for me.” He pushes a finger inside me. “So tight.”

  “Ashton,” I groan.

  “You want my cock in you?” He pumps his finger in and out, my inner walls gripping him.

  “Yes.”

  He adds another finger, stretching me. “I’m gonna fuck you hard, honey.”

  I shudder. “Yes, please.”

  “Fuck. You’re amazing.” Pulling his hand free, he shifts me so I’m lying on my back in the center of the bed. His nimble fingers unbutton the shirt I’m still wearing, and then his hands and his mouth are everywhere.

  He licks and strokes and nibbles and squeezes every inch of me, lingering whenever I respond. His mouth takes each breast in turn, sucking the nipples until I’m frantic, then grazing the aching tips with his teeth. My neck, my earlobes, my collarbone, my belly, my legs … nothing escapes his attention.

  His beard scrapes my inner thighs, then he sucks the tiny hurts. “Your cunt is so beautiful,” he says, staring down at it. “So pink and glistening. I’m going to drink all your cream.”

  I writhe under his gaze. “Ash, baby.”

  He’s as good as his word, eating me out like I’m an unbelievable delicacy, while his fingers pump slowly in and out of me, curling against some super-sensitive spot deep inside. When I come with a cry, arching against him, it’s the first time in my life I’ve had an orgasm that I didn’t give myself.

  Finally, he rolls off the bed and strips. I watch eagerly, propped up on my elbows, as his body is revealed. The smooth play of muscle in his biceps, his chest, his abs, is delightful. I can’t wait to kiss him and touch him everywhere like he did me.

  When he shoves down his slacks and boxer briefs, I stare unabashedly at his cock, jutting proudly out from its nest of hair. I’m pretty sure it’s going to hurt like hell when he puts it in me, and I don’t even care. I hold out my arms, and he vaults onto the bed.

  “Are you on the pill?”

  “Yes.” Even though I haven’t had any relationships, it seemed best to be prepared.

  “I’ve been tested. We’re good there.” His eyes, hot and dark, roam my face. “I don’t want anything between us.”

  I nod, and he kisses me fiercely. “I told you I was going to fuck you hard; I meant it. I don’t think I can be gentle with you.”

  “It’s all right.”

  He kisses me again, until my lips are swollen, then kneels between my thighs. Taking his cock in hand, he rubs the tip through my slick folds, up to brush my clit, down to nudge at my opening, then back again, over and over until my hips start to move, begging him for more.

  His hands grip my hips
and he pulls me up onto his thighs, draping my legs over his arms. Seating himself at my entrance, he starts to work himself inside me.

  9

  Even as wet as she is, she’s incredibly tight. I ease back and press in, my cock gradually disappearing inside her, my eyes fixed on the place where our bodies join.

  When I shift my gaze to her face, her expression is strained. I think she might be a virgin. I didn’t ask, because I didn’t want that final assault on my conscience. Things were too far gone by then for turning back.

  I’m probably hurting her, but I’ll make it up to her.

  Finally, I’m stuffed inside her as far as I can go. I start working her clit with my thumb and she clenches and releases around me, her soft moans filling the room. I circle, press, and roll her swollen point until her head goes back and she cries out, clamping down on me.

  Now I start to move, flexing my hips, using my hands to bring her up to meet me.

  “Ashton … it feels …”

  “What?”

  Her head tosses on the mattress. “Don’t stop.”

  “I won’t stop.” I come down over her, stretching out, one forearm holding me up. My hand tangles in her hair and I tighten my grip just a little, until she gasps and vises around me. “Spread your legs, honey.”

  With another moan, she obeys, her dancer’s body lithe and flexible. I start to fuck her hard and slow and deep, just the way I promised. Her nails dig into my back, then my ass, spurring me on.

  “Fuck, Tori. You’re perfect.” I don’t ever want to stop, don’t ever want to be anywhere but deep inside her, her exquisite cunt swallowing my cock.

  “Ashton … please …”

  I look into her eyes and see the pleading there. “More?”

  “Yes. More.”

  I fuck her harder, the sound of our bodies meeting echoing off the walls. She’s crying out with every stroke now, but not in pain. “Touch yourself,” I order her. “I want you to come on my cock before I lose control.”

  She slides her hand between us. I can’t hold on much longer. “Hurry, Tori.”

  “Ash … oh fuck … Ash!” Her pussy spasms frantically around me as she goes over the edge, and the frayed rope that’s what’s left of my self-control snaps.

  I start pounding into her, her screams filling my ears as I fuck her like a jackhammer. Hard and fast and frantic, until the climax shoots from the base of my spine into my balls, and I pour myself out, her cunt milking me for every last drop.

  My body goes limp, collapsing on hers. As soon as I’m able, I roll us onto our sides, holding her close. “Are you all right?”

  She opens her eyes and studies me for a moment before her lips curve softly up. Her smile is exquisite, lighting up the room. “Yeah.”

  I tuck her against me, savoring the afterglow. If Tori comes to her senses and decides she doesn’t want to do this again, I’ll have to try to change her mind.

  Once is definitely not enough.

  I don’t have to persuade her. The week flies by, our evenings spent in a blissful haze of sex. During the day, I try not to go to work with a “just got laid” spring in my step, but the change in my mood is too obvious to miss.

  “You’re chipper these days,” Shane remarks.

  I don’t look up from the contract I’m studying. “New workout routine.”

  “Mm.” I’m certain if I make eye contact he’ll be smirking at me, so I don’t look. If I do, then I’ll have to deal with him and his too-astute questions, and that’s best avoided.

  On Saturday, Tori and I go for a walk in Central Park. It rained last night; the air is chilly. We stroll together, but don’t hold hands, or otherwise act like lovers. There’s an ache in my heart that I can’t give her that.

  We’re in Strawberry Fields, near the mosaic, when we hear what sounds like a heated argument. Tori shoots me a worried glance, and we go in the direction of the voices. Just off the path, under a tree, we find a man looming threateningly over a woman.

  His hands are clenched in fists, while she’s cowering, her arms wrapped protectively around her torso. “I told you,” he snarls. “Why don’t you ever listen, you stupid bitch?”

  I start toward them, but before I can intervene, he backhands her. The woman staggers back, slipping on wet leaves and falling to the ground.

  “Hey!” I snap, marching forward.

  The man turns to me with a sneer. “Stay out of it, pretty boy.”

  “Fuck you.” I can’t stand to see women mistreated. No way is this asshole getting away with it.

  His fists come up when it’s obvious I’m not going to stop. I deflect his haymaker swing with one arm, wincing, and land a roundhouse on his jaw that knocks him flat on his ass.

  Flipping him onto his stomach, I sit on him to pin him down. The jerk still tries to wriggle away, but I’m bigger than he is.

  Tori rushes up to me, her phone in hand. “Are you all right? I called 911. The police are on the way.”

  “Good.” I give her a smile. “I’m okay.” I almost wish the guy would fight back so I could pop him again, but I’m better off not giving the police a reason to haul me in too. Self defense only goes so far.

  Fortunately, it doesn’t take the cops long to show up and figure out the situation. After they question all of us, they arrest the man and take him away. The woman is pale, shaken, and I wish I could offer her a hug, but I know better.

  “Could we buy you a coffee?” I ask instead.

  She doesn’t look at either of us. “I’m all right. Thanks, though.”

  Tori goes near, but doesn’t touch her either. “Just until you feel better,” she says, her voice very gentle. “And then we can make sure you get home safely.”

  The woman glances at Tori, then away. There’s a bruise already forming on her face. I think she wants to say yes, but – from what little I know about battered women – years of fear and isolation have probably made it difficult to trust.

  “Okay,” she says at last, and we walk to a nearby diner. Once we’re in a booth, Tori coaxes the woman into having some soup along with her coffee. We both get something to eat too, so she’ll feel more comfortable.

  Gradually, the woman’s story emerges. Her name is Lisa Hopper, and the man who was beating her is her husband, James.

  “We’ve been married five years. At first, he was sweet to me, but once we got married he changed. I can’t do anything right; every little thing is another reason for him to go off on me.

  “I wanted to leave him, but I never went to college, so the only jobs I can get don’t pay worth beans. I can’t afford rent in this town on what I can earn.”

  “Do you have children?” Tori asks softly.

  “No. James wanted kids, but I managed to hide my birth control pills from him. I couldn’t bring a child into a situation like that.”

  “You’d leave him if you could?” I say.

  She hunches into herself. “I don’t see how.”

  Carefully, I pull out one of my business cards and slide it across the table. “I’m a lawyer. If you’re ready to leave James, divorce him, I’ll represent you at no charge.”

  Lisa studies the card like it’s filled with hieroglyphics. “I’m not sure what to do – I mean, how to go about it. Where would I go? He’ll be out by tonight.”

  “We can help you find a shelter – now, while he’s locked up. Once you’re safely away from him, I can file the paperwork for the divorce.”

  “You make it sound so simple.” She looks ready to say no, but I can’t stand the thought of her going back to that man. Odds are he’ll kill her one day.

  “It won’t be easy,” I say, trying to be as honest as possible. “You’ll have to work hard to build a life away from him. But if you’re willing to do that, I’ll help you. Every step of the way.”

  Lisa scrutinizes me for long moments. It’s clear enough that she’s trying to see inside me, to decide if she really can believe what I’m saying.

  Finally, the faint
est hint of a smile crosses her face. “If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s work hard. It’d be nice to put the effort toward something that’ll actually make my life better.”

  10

  Three hours later, Ashton and I are back home, and Lisa is safely away from her husband. I’m quiet while we eat dinner, preoccupied with the day’s events.

  “You okay?” Ashton asks when we’re finished.

  I smile at him. “Just thinking. About Lisa.” Picking up our plates, I carry them to the sink. “You really came through for her.”

  He gives a diffident half-shrug. “I was in the right place at the right time.”

  “You weren’t just there.” I come back to him and slide my hands up his chest to his shoulders. “You’re her knight in shining armor now. And I have to say, when you hit her jerk of a husband, it was … kinda hot.”

  “Is that right?”

  “I think you deserve a reward.” Sinking slowly to my knees before him, I reach for the snap of his jeans. He watches me, a by-now familiar heat smoldering in his eyes.

  He’s still very bossy in bed, but sometimes he lets me explore, and I’ve taken every chance I can to learn his body like he’s learning mine. Unzipping him, I free his cock, already half-erect from the promise of my attentions.

  Before Ashton, I’d never given a blowjob, but he’s discovered that I’m a very diligent student when something engages my passions. Leaning forward, I lick around the flared rim of his head, making him suck in his breath.

  His hands tangle gently in my hair as I lick him from tip to root, then back again, swirling my tongue over the tip to capture the liquid that’s gathering in his slit. “Ah, Tori,” he groans.

  I can’t deep-throat him yet, but I’m determined that soon I’ll be able to. For now, I close my mouth over him and suck, softly at first, then harder, my head bobbing, my hand doing its best to contain his girth.

  By the time he’s ready to explode, my panties are soaking wet. Easing back from him, I peel off all my clothing from the waist down while he watches me with half-lidded eyes. He doesn’t object when I straddle him, lowering myself slowly onto his cock.