19 | insatiable

[nsfw chapter ahead, you've been warned!]


SUMMER

I think I've lost my mind. Yes, as I pull my parking break up in front of the Villa's house—it's beyond clear that I've unequivocally lost my freaking mind.

I look at Ashton, and he's looking right back with that gorgeous face and those deadly honey eyes and that smirk that must have been gifted by the devil himself.

Ashton's the culprit. I can almost see him dipping into my head and luring out my mind, toying with it in those ridiculously skilled hands. Taking pleasure in my loss of sense and reason. And I welcome him.

I don't care about anything except how badly I want him. I've spent weeks burying invasive thoughts. Thoughts about what I want to do to him and what I'd let him do to me. Thoughts that have finally overpowered me and awoken something unrelenting. Something primal.

A continuous roar surrounds us as buckets of rain hit the ground, pelting down on flower beds and expanding puddles. Ashton gives me his jacket to take cover, but I'm still dripping after we've raced to the front door. We're laughing, and my heart thrums with adrenaline when he pulls me in at the waist and plants his warm lips on mine.

I grip his shirt, wanting nothing more than to tear all of this wet material between us to shreds, and I know it's only a matter of seconds before the burning in my chest spreads like wildfire.

I rip away and try to regain focus. "Ashton—"

My breath hitches when his mouth relocates to the side of my neck, face buried in my hair, hands snaking lower to cup my backside. My knees just about buckle when he presses himself against me, that burning plummeting south.

I force my eyes open and peel away. "Listen."

"I'm listening."

"Ashton." My stern tone kicks in, and he draws back.

"Okay, okay. All ears." He smiles and rakes away the wet hair that's fallen over his forehead. It flops right back.

"I'm serious about the risk, okay? I have to sneak you in, and you have to be quiet. Promise me you'll be quiet."

"Cross my heart." He makes an X with his fingers. "But I can assure you... I'm not the one who's gonna have a problem being quiet tonight, Cupcake."

My eyes roll at his smugness, secret goosebumps rushing over my heated skin.

I go in first and make sure it's clear. The house is in darkness, and the main obstacle is getting past the Villa's bedroom before we make it to the stairs. Ashton closes the door and blocks out the thundering rain. He follows through the entrance hall, and my stomach tumbles when I hear a bump.

I turn just in time to see him catching a Fabergé egg, inches from smashing. I glare at him, immediately taken back to his egg juggling and sharp reflexes in class. He lets out a breath and sets it back on its display. I grab his hand to keep him close.

No sound is coming from the Villa's bedroom, but I still make a point of showing Ashton to skip the creaky fourth step as a precaution. My feet stop dead when I see the sliver of light under Mr. Villa's study door.

I move Ashton in front of me and hastily guide him down the hall to my room, head on a swivel. My muscles relax once I've secured him inside. It feels like I've just delivered ticking cargo that could have exploded at any second.

We've barely taken a few steps when a soft knock on the door winds my muscles up again.

"Summer?"

Ashton ruts his thick brows.

"Mr. Villa," I mouth.

Keeping the light off, I shove him behind the door before I open a crack just wide enough for my head to stick through.

"Thought I heard footsteps." Mr. Villa smiles. His fitted sweatpants and loose gray sweater strike me. Guess I'm not used to seeing him out of a suit too often.

"Yeah, I tried not to wake anyone. Hope you weren't waiting up for me," I say as steadily as I can. If this were Mrs. Villa in front of me, I'd be spewing sweat like a water fountain.

"I had some work to do," he says, nodding to his study, "but yes, I also wanted to make sure you got back safe. Did you have a good night?"

"Uh-huh. Pretty typical party, though. Not too eventful." My smile wavers when Ashton pinches my butt.

I clear my throat as Mr. Villa's piercing eyes circle my floating head, realizing my position is suspicious in itself.

"I um... already started undressing." I explain.

"Oh, god, sorry." He looks away. "I won't keep you long, then. I just wanted to say that..."

It's at this moment that Ashton decides to stir the precarious situation. I feel his palms sliding up the back of my thighs, over my skirt, under my top. My jaw squeezes, and I attempt to bat him away while Mr. Villa speaks.

"I know it hasn't been a cakewalk living here, and I wish Denise wasn't so harsh because of the awful experience with Kelsey. I mean, you're back from a party and it's not like you're drunk or anything. You've proven how responsible you are in comparison..."

I swallow hard. Ashton's tongue has found the small of my back, and I suppress a shiver as he drags over the track of my spine, fingertips pressed on my ribs.

While only a handful of Mr. Villa's words make it through the fog, I get the gist of what he's saying. And yes, I recognize the brutal irony of being praised for my responsibility while a rogue boy's mouth claims my skin.

"She was worried that even letting you go out with your friends was too much, but once I tell her how you came back at a reasonable time and just went to bed, I swear she'll loosen up. You won't have to walk on eggshells for long."

Ashton yanks my skirt to my ankles, and I suddenly realize Mr. Villa has stopped talking.

"Great," I stammer. "That's great, Mr. Villa. Thank you."

His mouth softly curves. "Sleep well, Summer."

"Y-You too."

I shut the door and push Ashton away, straining to listen for the creak on the staircase. I turn the lock once I've heard it, zeroing in on his snickering face.

"That was not funny!" I whisper-shout.

"Beg to differ." He tugs his shirt over his head, and every particle of anger dissolves.

I'd like to claim I'm the type of person who doesn't get flustered over shirtless guys with killer bodies, but I'm not above basic human instinct. A pang spirals through my core, my throat dries, and a clear thought cracks over my head as I drink him in—boys shouldn't be allowed to be this beautiful.

They're the ones who can get away with murder. The ones who have throngs of manic girls falling at their feet. The ones who are forgiven with nothing more than a slap on the wrist, because anyone who looks like this couldn't possibly have a bad bone in their body, could they?

The desperate urge to touch him drives me to close the space between us like a hammer dropping. Our lips collide, my hands finding their place on his chest, feeling every muscle, every ridge, every contour. I leave his mouth, kissing my way down until I settle on his collarbone. He tastes like rain and salt. A sharp breath escapes his nose when I reach a spot at the base of his neck.

My fingers are at his zipper and his are at my top, and we're sucked into a whirlwind of stripping down like our clothes are threatening to suffocate us. It takes Ashton two seconds to unhook my bra, standing back once I've let it fall to the floor. We catch our breath, wild eyes wandering over each other in the pale moonlight.

He's not overly bulky like a bodybuilder, but trim and lean. And he has less ink than I thought. Just a clear, olive-toned canvas that ends with v-lines dipping beneath his boxers. It quickly hits me that I'm standing in nothing but my panties in front of Ashton Banks, and he's staring at me like he's realized this too.

I shift, my arms heavy and out of place at my sides. "Ashton."

"Wow. Sorry, I'm just..." He blows air through his cheeks, fingers running over his hair, gaze burning my chest like lasers. "I'm just mentally capturing this for later use."

I slap his arm and he laughs, smoothly hoisting me up so my legs wrap around him. His lips are on my neck, then my shoulders, the friction of our skin about to start a fire. I can feel him growing through his boxers, and my blood is pumping so hard I'm worried my heart is going to give out before we even make it to the bed.

And now I can't help picturing a scenario where that happens and a half-naked Ashton has to run downstairs to alert the Villas. Talk about an anticlimactic end to this night.

I snap out of it when I feel something abnormal on the back of his head. Tracing over a raised line under his hair, my other hand discovers similar patterns on his shoulder blade at the same time.

I frown. "What's this?"

"Wha—? Oh." He gives a loose shrug. "Fight Club shit."

The gush of giggles can't be reeled in as he throws me on the bed. Ashton hovers over me, and he's kissing me, and I'm kissing him back, and I don't think I'll ever get tired of this. It's like I've been deprived since that first kiss in the walk-in fridge. Starved for this feeling.

I savor every second. His soft lips in sync with mine, his tongue whirling tingles around the walls of my mouth, his addictive taste and the way he's able to be so rough and gentle at the same time.

His weight on top of me is so tangible, but I'm floating. Drifting higher with him. Right now it's just us and the rain as our soundtrack.

He palms my breast, kisses a trail down the valley before his tongue glides across my nipple. A moan hums through my throat as the warmth of his mouth covers me. I don't know how long he stays there until he works his way to my stomach, stopping at the line of my underwear. He hooks his fingers under the lace, and I take a moment to thank myself for choosing nice lingerie and not the everyday boring panties.

Maybe it was a subconscious choice in case something happened tonight. Maybe I manifested this happening by making that choice in the first place. Or maybe I always knew there was never a chance of going to a party and not ending up in bed with Ashton.

He pauses, having exposed the hidden rose tattoo on my hip. My only tattoo. He doesn't say anything, but I spot a small smile as he discards the lace over his shoulder, moving between my legs. I inhale when his breath tickles my inner thigh, his tongue sweeping over the sensitive skin. I'm already full of heat from what he started in the car and I know this isn't going to last long if I watch him, so I lie flat and close my eyes.

But he doesn't do anything. He just lingers while I ache for more, keeping me suspended in waiting. I sit up and immediately meet his glinting eyes. He's teasing me.

"Quit it." I push my thigh against his cheek and he chuckles, teeth nipping my skin. "See? I told you that none of this changes the fact that you annoy me, and now you're just proving me ri—"

My words die in my throat when his head dips to my center, tongue parting me. I fall, my back arching, body washed with relief at the feel of his mouth on me. My calves strain as I twist against the sheets. His velvet tongue circles, flattens, laps, devours, everything catapulting into overdrive when his fingers slip inside me.

I clap a hand over my mouth, stifling the moans that will surely cut through the storm and wake the house. My other hand reaches down, knots my fingers in his hair, pulls so hard it has to be hurting him, but he keeps going. I eventually tear my eyes open and absorb the sight of him between my legs. He senses me, locks his luring eyes on mine, tipping me over in a flash.

I try to warn him but it's too late. My muscles tighten, a head rush overriding my words. His fingers leave me and grip at my hips to keep me in place. The ripple starts at his mouth, courses through the bundle of nerves and crashes to every edge of my body. I'm only sure gravity hasn't completely disappeared because of the mattress beneath me. And I'm pretty sure I'd be soaring away if Ashton wasn't holding me down.

I bask in the utter warmth, my shaking legs starting to relax, aftershocks strong as ever. Ashton gives my thigh a peck before he emerges, tongue skimming across his lip.

"Sweetest cupcake I ever tasted." He grimaces as soon as he says it. "Too corny?"

"Yes!" I laugh, throwing a pillow at his face. "But you're the only one who can pull it off."

He grins a stupid grin that I mentally capture for myself.

I sit up on my knees and slip my fingers into his waistband. "My turn."

"No." His voice is low, no humor left on his face. "I don't wanna wait any longer."

He slides off the bed before I can respond. I've never been with a guy who refused a blowjob, even before sex, and Charlie's description about Ashton not being gifted comes to mind. Is he embarrassed? At this point, it's clear he knows what he's doing. Size wouldn't even matter. I smooth my hair down, attempting to tidy myself up before he can unravel me again.

"Shit," he mutters. "Shit, shit, shit."

"What?"

He's rummaging through his wallet, moving to all the pockets of his crumpled clothes. "Shit."

"What, Ashton?"

"I thought I had condoms, but I must've used—"

My eyebrows lift. He coughs.

"I... don't have any."

I'm going through the mechanics of what sneaking out and driving back to the party for that fishbowl would entail when the last person I'd like to be thinking about pops into my head. I crawl to my nightstand drawer and dig around for the box of condoms my mom bought me.

Goddamnit. I hate that she knew I'd need these. Thank you, Mom.

I toss the box to Ashton and he kisses it like a trophy, his body exhaling.

"Always prepared. Shouldn't have expected anything less."

"No you shouldn't have."

He smiles to himself as he plucks out a condom, pulls his boxers off and subsequently causes me to go into paralyses.

I don't know if Charlie has wildly unreal expectations or if she was just plain lying, but Ashton's raging ego has never made more sense.

He rips open the foil packet with his teeth.

"Wait." I hear myself say. "Can I?"

The corner of his mouth lifts, and I'm trying not to seem totally entranced by the sight of him fully unclothed, but it's proving frustratingly difficult. Ashton pads over to the foot of the bed and hands me the packet. I stroke him first, and he lets out a ragged breath at my touch. The feel of him sends a swarm of butterflies to my stomach. I'm suddenly nervous. The same nerves I had when I lost my virginity, and I hope he can't tell.

He tucks my hair behind my ear as I roll the condom down his length, his thumb gliding over my bottom lip.

"Back," he murmurs. His eyes are dark. Hungry.

I do as he says and lie on my back. He stays standing, pulls me closer and spreads my legs on either side of him. He's lifting my hips, and it happens so fast I think I blackout for a few seconds, and it hurts. But the good kind of hurt that makes my chest swell and my eyes prick with tears and all those butterflies explode and flutter throughout my blood.

"Jesus Christ, Summer." Ashton breathes, strains, curses, taking a moment before he notices my silence. "You okay?"

I'm still adjusting to him, but I blink the burn in my eyes away and give in to my impatience. "God, yes, just fuck me already."

He laughs and quickly falls into a powerful rhythm as if he's lost all restraint, telling me how good I feel, going harder and deeper with every thrust. So deep that it's impossible not to scream, not to moan or cry or make every visceral sound my body is pleading to release. My hand won't be enough this time.

I reach up, drag a pillow down and shove it over my face. And still with my vision blocked, I'm outside of myself, and I can see everything. I can see Ashton. I can see his muscles tensing, his skin glistening. I can see myself sprawled out, moving with him, melting into a bed made of lava. I can see it all. Until I can't.

I thought I could hold out longer, but I know I'm a goner when I forget to breathe. When my mind fades into bliss and I can't stop my hips from bucking or my depths from boiling over.

My name leaves his lips when I clench around him, holding me tighter, encouraging me through whispers and groans. The thunder outside rumbles with my inner storm, rips through me with rain and hail and every elemental force at once.

I slide the pillow away when the hurricane has calmed, and he's looking at me in fixed captivation, a sheen of sweat on his brow. I know he's going to follow me at any second. But then he doesn't. He keeps his pace, and I realize the heat in my stomach that I've already felt twice is building again.

There's no way. I didn't even know my body was capable of this, that I wouldn't need more time. I thought this kind of thing only happened in movies or porn. Maybe I've simply never been with a guy who lasts long enough to make it happen. But it's happening.

He slows, a sinful smile playing on his lips. "That's it, Cupcake, give me another one."

I'd usually want to slap that cockiness right off his face, but he's earned it this time. God has he earned it.

I grab the pillow just as my legs shudder, my brain flooding down to my curling toes. He hooks his arm under me as I writhe against him, his other hand traveling over my stomach, my breasts, every bit of flesh he can grasp. I moan his name into the pillow, disbelief mixed with exhilaration. He holds me up when I go limp, his hands returning to my hips.

I push the pillow off and watch him. It doesn't take long for his strokes to falter. I whisper my encouragement now, hands running through my hair and over my fiery skin. I want him to remember this view.

Ashton's fingers dig down, and he tells me he's coming. Growls it more than says it. After one final thrust, he stills and lets out a low groan, muscles rippling, eyes screwed shut. He looks like he's straining to hold back, and I wonder if he would've been louder had he not bragged about being quiet tonight.

My skin throbs when he finally releases his vice-like grip. I already miss it. He collapses next to me, only the sound of persistent rain and our heaving lungs filling the room.

"Fuck," he pants, voice raspy. "We're so fucking stupid."

My gut plummets. No, no, no. He can't regret this.

Ashton props up on his elbow. "Like, why didn't we do this sooner again?"

I smile in relief. "A certain jerk comes to mind."

"Yeah? Well you're the one who spilled soup on me, Cupcake."

"Only after you spilled it on me! Also, one word: contest."

"All right, all right." His head drops to the crook of my neck. "We probably would've been here sooner if I wasn't such an idiot."

Ashton calling himself an idiot. Never thought I'd see the day.

His lips move along my jaw, to my chin, to my mouth, then he pulls back and leans over me. "I really am sorry for that contest shit, though. You know that, right?"

He has the same sincerity he did in the closet earlier. It's eerie.

I gaze over his glass-cut cheekbones, my fingertip tapping at the soft dimple on his chin. "I know."

"Good." His mouth brushes against mine before he adds, "And maybe it was less about winning and more about just wanting to kiss you, anyway."

I laugh and close the gap, allowing his tongue access as my fingers settle on his jawline. The kiss soon gets deeper, heavier. His hand slides over the curve of my body before he hooks my leg around him. Stoking the embers.

I should be tired. I should want to pass out and dream the night away, but this is better than any dream I could conjure up. The chemical reaction that happens when we collide is almost too much to bear. I'm insatiable for him.

Just as I feel hardness pressing into me, he breaks away and rolls off the bed.

"What are you doing?"

A quick condom change and he's climbing up again.

"We should've been here weeks ago, right?" He flips me onto my stomach like a rag doll. "So we better start making up for lost time."

I smile and reach for the pillow.


a/n: okay so for real I was verrrryy nervous about this chapter and I just hope it met expectations!


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