“Where are we going?” she asks without a trace of fear in her voice.
“Home, sweet Jasmine. I’m taking you home.”
7
Jasmine
Ash takes my bag from me with his free hand, the other still holding my hand, as we exit the building. It’s no longer my home, though it never really felt that way to begin with. A weight lifts from my shoulders as the night air hits my face. I should be freaking out, but I’m not. Maybe now I can try to start over again. I no longer have to worry about my father stealing from me. Maybe I can even get a job.
Ash pulls me toward the street, and a man wearing a dark suit jumps out of the driver’s side of a limo. He’s almost as big as Ash. He comes around and opens the back door. I pull on my hand, but Ash only tightens his hold.
“In,” he orders me.
I take a death breath. “Maybe we can take the bus. One comes every thirty minutes or so.” I nod down toward the bus stop.
“Why would we take the bus when we have a car?” he questions, shaking his head as if I’m making a joke. He pulls me into the limo and I reluctantly follow him. The car door shuts behind me making me jump, but Ash’s hand comes to rest on my leg. Surprisingly, it offers me comfort. Everything about this man feels comforting. That must be why I’m finding it so easy to go with him. He’s yours, a voice whispers in my mind.
“What’s wrong?” he queries, concern on his face. His eyebrows pull together, and it’s like he’s unaccustomed to feeling like this. Something about him seems a little dark, but for some crazy reason I don’t feel like that darkness can touch me. I somehow know he would never allow that.
“I don’t like cars,” I admit. “Buses aren’t so bad. They’re big and lined with windows. I don’t feel so closed in.”
“Hmm.” His hand on my thigh strokes back and forth. The tips of his fingers hit below the hem of my school uniform skirt. “You should relax, sweetheart. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He leans in as his hand slides up higher under my skirt, and I gasp.
His mouth falls on mine, his tongue sliding between my parted lips. He tastes warm and sweet, and I find myself leaning into him, enjoying the closeness and connection he’s giving me. I push back, wanting more, deepening the kiss. But he remains soft and lazy as I become urgent. Having never felt something like this, I want to take it all. It’s like someone flipped a switch and my body is alive with excitement.
I wrap my arms around his neck, wanting to get even closer to him. He moves his hand from my thigh to my hips, and in one tug I’m in his lap, straddling him. But I don’t break the connection with his lips. I keep kissing him and he lets me. His hands softly roam my body as he allows me to take what I need. I feel myself start to rock against him, and it causes a moan to pour from me.
A rumble leaves his body, a noise that sounds a lot like a growl. His grip on me grows firmer as tension rises in his body. He wants something, but I don’t know what it is. I can’t bring myself to try to figure it out with all the wonderful, new sensations cascading through my body. As I’m further pressed against him, the world falls away.
“More,” I plead, pulling away from his mouth for a moment before latching back on to his lips. My hands go to his hair, wanting to hold on to him so I don’t ever have to let go.
“Not here, sweetheart,” he murmurs, breaking away from my mouth. I don’t let that stop me as I go for his neck, kissing him anywhere I can find exposed skin. Wanting his warmth. Wanting his taste. I keep rocking against him, and something builds deep inside me. His hands go to my hips, locking me in place.
“Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” I hear him mutter. “Sweetheart, I don’t want the first time you cum for me to be in the back of a car.”
Pulling back, I look at him and around the inside of the limo. I forgot we were in a car. My heart starts to race.
“It’s okay.” He softly cups my cheek. “We’re here.”
“You distracted me.” I smile at him.
“I know the feeling. You’ve been distracting me for a while.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I lean into his hand. I didn’t know how much I was missing physical comfort and affection.
“No, it’s a distraction I need.” I smile at his words. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
We exit the limo and enter the building. As we walk toward the elevator my pulse picks up. Suddenly I’m in Ash’s arms. He passes the elevators and opens a nearby door marked ‘Stairs.’
“What are you doing?” I ask, knowing his home is on the fifth floor. That’s a lot of stairs.