His Pretty Toy by Shanna Handel

Chapter 7

Ashe

I ride the wave of pleasure that crashes through my body. God, this man is good with his hands. He’s rubbing me just right, making me circle my hips. As I move on his lap, my ass burns, reminding me of his punishment.

It only makes me wetter.

The sun shines down, the cool breeze blows my hair back from my face. I wrap my arms tighter around his neck. His fingers move on me, making my breaths come faster, heavier. “I’m going… to come.”

“Not yet.”

My eyes fly open. “Why not?”

“Because.” He gives me a stern stare as he pulls his fingers from me.

No, don’t take them away.

“You’re in trouble.”

“What? How?” All I want in this moment is for him to make me come. He grabs my hips, lifting me from his lap.

He points down to the spot where I was sitting. “Look. You’ve ruined my pants.”

I look down. There, where I was sitting, is a damp patch of my arousal. Shame fills me, my face heating.

I can’t meet his gaze.

He cups my chin in his hands, forcing me to. “I’ll have to punish you for that.”

“Uh-oh.” Oh, his sexy little games, what they do to me. My knees go weak, my thighs pressing together as my sex clenches, threatening to spill glistening arousal down my leg. I give him a sexy pout. “Have I been bad?”

Desire flashes in his eyes. It’s fun to be the one doing the turning on for a change. I slip the tip of my finger between my lips, sucking on it. “Do you need to teach me a lesson?”

He gives a growl, grabbing my waist. He throws me down on the cushions, rolling me over onto my stomach. He pushes my jeans away from my ankles with his bare feet. His hand presses between my shoulders, pinning me down as he maneuvers his trousers with the other.

I tense until I hear the crinkle of the unwrapping of a condom. Good. I relax, letting the anticipation of having this thrum of desire in my core finally satisfied. Enough of the games. I want to be fucked. Hard.

His hands go to my thighs, spreading me wide until it’s almost uncomfortable. His hands stay there as he leans down, lining his legs up with mine. I feel his warm naked skin against mine and it makes me give a sigh of pleasure to feel his warmth.

He lies on top of me, supporting his weight on his forearms as he enters me. I’ve never done it like this, the two of us completely horizontal and the feeling of him inside of me at this angle is amazing. My clit rubs against the cushions as he moves inside me, sending delicious tingles through my whole body. He’s kissing the back of my neck, my shoulders as he moves slowly inside of me.

But his need grows. His arm scoops underneath my belly, pulling me up onto my knees. He holds me there as he fucks me hard. Harder than I’ve ever been fucked before. His arm digs into my stomach. My teeth sink into my lip, my eyes squeeze shut, my entire face contracting as he bangs against me. I grab the cushions in my hand and I try—oh, god, I try—to hold in the screams.

After all, there are staff on this boat.

The orgasm starts in my toes, making them curl. It travels up my legs, making my knees go weak. My ass muscles clench, my pussy tightening around him like a vise.

“My god,” he moans, giving my thigh a slap. “My god. Ashley.”

I like the sound of my name rolling off his tongue. My core tightens, my abs clenching. It’s no use, I can’t hold it in. “Trent! Oh, my god, yes!” I punch my fist against the cushions. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Waves of pleasure rock me, powerful, earth-shaking waves. Just when I think it can’t get any stronger, he grabs the hair at the base of my neck, pulling. “Give it to me. Give me all you’ve got.”

“Oh, my god, yes.” Pain and heady tingles travel over my scalp. Fuck. I like that. I like that way too much. Pressing one hand into the pad to steady my weight, with the other I reach back, grabbing at his shirt.

The final shudder tears through me as he comes. We’re sweaty and panting as we lie down on the cushions, trying to recover, hoping to catch our breath. Our eyes meet and the message that’s shared between them seems to be: where the hell have you been all my life?

I’ve never had a sexual connection like this one.

In lieu of a shower, we spend the next hour skinny dipping. I playfully splash him and he tugs at my hair and pinches my nipples in payback. After we dry off and dress, the staff has lunch waiting for us. The table is decorated with macramé-covered glass vases filled with cherry blossoms. There’s more food than two people could possibly eat. I hope the crew helps themselves when we’re done.

That night we drink wine underneath the stars. The swimming, the sun, the sex leave me feeling satiated, a pleasant, warm tiredness overtaking my body. I must have dozed off because I wake to him carrying me to the bed. He helps me undress then tucks me in, pulling the covers up to my chin.

The sound of moans wakes me. Early sunlight filters into the room. At first, I don’t know where I am. Then I see him and I remember. He twists and turns, the sheets tangled around his naked body.

He’s so beautiful it’s almost tragic. His dark brow furrows as he murmurs in his sleep.

I can’t help myself. I lean down, kissing his lips.

At first, he sighs, kissing me back. It’s a tender kiss, so unlike the man that ravished my body in the dark of the night. The kiss stops.

He freezes.

His eyes snap open. “What are you doing?” I’m taken aback by the ferocity of his gaze, the harshness in his tone.

“Sorry, I was just…” What do I say? Just kissing you because you looked so damn beautiful? Stupid.

His voice is ice, his eyes fire. “You can go.”

“Wh-what?” I can’t help it, he’s so… mean, tears instantly spring to my eyes. “But… I’m supposed to be here till tonight.”

He glares at me so hard it burns. “Did you not hear me the first time?”

“Fine.” I jump from the bed, gathering my dress, my shoes from the other night. They’re the closest thing to me and I want out of here. Fast. “Whatever.”

I run for the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I press the backs of my hands to my eyes, trying to stop the tears that threaten to fall.

After that amazing day together, this is how he treats me? Over one kiss?

Quickly, I dress, fumbling as my hands shake. I don’t even bother with the zipper, reaching behind me and pinning the dress together in my clasped hand. I carry the shoes with me.

I’ll never, ever wear them again.

I’ll never wear anything for this man again.

I have to get out of here. Now. I burst from the bathroom in a full-on sprint.

I don’t know where he is, I don’t know if he’s seen me; my vision stays directly ahead of me as I run from the yacht.

I’m flying, barefoot in an unzipped gown that must cost more than my rent, tears streaming down my face. Luckily, it’s early and the streets are quiet except for a few morning joggers. Some stare openly at me, others glance away, giving me privacy in my distress.

I find an alleyway, dodging into it. I’m usually strong and not one to cry, but now, the humiliation eats at me. I slide down the dirty brick wall, crouching in the alley, and sob.

Why did I kiss him?

Why did he get so angry?

Why do I care?

Did I really think he’d have a soul—a man with more money than God who paid for it? Why am I crying so fucking hard—did I actually get the feels for this man after two nights of being his paid company?

What’s wrong with me?

After sending a nosy Tabby away from my door by promising everything went fine and telling her the evening just ended a little earlier than I expected, I spend the rest of the day humiliated, dejected, and alone. I binge eat, binge watch, and binge sigh the rest of my time away. When the clock strikes eight, I can’t help but feel another wave of sadness rack through my chest.

It really is over. Whatever sick, twisted… amazing… thing it was, it’s over now.

Thank goodness I have tomorrow off from work because I need another day to wallow. I’m sitting on my tattered old sofa, just about to dive into my depression breakfast of cookies and ice cream when the first gift arrives.

First, it’s a bouquet of flowers. But not pretentious, perfect roses. It’s a wild, beautiful bouquet made of peonies and rosemary and other gorgeous weedy things I find stunning. I love it.

The next item that comes is a small chocolate cake with chocolate buttercream frosting. Real roses and violets candied with sugar decorate the top of the little cake. Chocolate has always been my favorite.

A late lunch arrives—a delicate pasta with cream sauce accompanied by warm, crusty bread. I find I’m starving, having forgotten about the depression breakfast and not eaten. It’s delicious.

Finally, the last gift comes. It’s a note. I unfold the creamy white cardstock.

I’m an asshole.

It’s not an apology but I get the feeling he apologizes to no one. Certainly not to me. There’s a car waiting outside. His driver has told me that Trent’s requested five of the unfulfilled hours of his contract.

With the dollars already transferred to my account, how can I say no?

I tell myself I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart, that at the end of the day I don’t want to feel like I cheated him. I want to have earned the full amount. But I’ve always been a terrible liar.

The thought of seeing him again has my stomach flip-flopping and my heart racing.

I want to see him again.

But I don’t want to hurt like I did today.

So I deny him.