Page 22 of Ashley & the A-Listers (Sweetverse)

22. DOUBLE DARE

ASHLEY

Ashley awoke as she was softly jostled, and found herself being… carried?

“Hey,” Dylan whispered. “You fell asleep. Just taking you to the guest room.”

The support of his arms beneath her knees and shoulders was strong, and she was surrounded by his scent, and the last time she’d felt this safe and cared for, she’d been a kid.

Ashley shook her head, blinking the sleep from her eyes. “Your room.”

His gaze jerked down to her as his feet came to a stop. “Yeah? Really? You’re sure?”

Ashley nodded again.

On her own front step, it had felt wrong to imagine them driving off without her.

Maybe a small part of her was afraid, after sharing another kiss with Dylan, that he would run again.

In this moment, with him carrying her so gently, knowing he loved her—had loved her since they were teenagers—she knew he wouldn’t.

It made Ashley want to hold him tighter, now that she knew he didn’t regret it.

Dylan spun, changing direction and taking her to a room that was lit only from the light of the moon out the window. It was dark, but the bed he laid her on was soft.

As his arms began to slide from under her, Ashley gripped at his collar before he could pull away.

They both paused, eyes meeting briefly in a moment of is this happening? before Ashley tugged him down to her.

Their lips met again, yet it felt different than either of the times before.

Maybe this would be a mistake. Maybe this was too fast.

Or maybe this was the first time both of them were giving into what they wanted without letting the consequences scare them, and there was something fucking special about that, too.

His right hand slid from the mattress to cup her face, thumb stroking slowly over her cheek in a distractingly slow rhythm as their lips parted, as they met in the middle.

“I missed you,” he said a moment later, mumbling into the kiss, then pausing, leaning back to stare down at her.

With her eyes adjusted to the dark, she read the truth in his expression.

“I missed you, too,” she said, and barely stopped herself from letting the rest spill out, too. That the past two days had been something downright magical. That it’d felt like no time at all had passed, because being together was just right.

It was a lot to feel in her own chest, and also to lay at the feet of someone else.

So she kept it in, and hoped he saw even a smidge of it in her eyes.

“I’m not running this time,” he said, voice low and deep, and here in the dark there was another layer to it, one that made warmth flutter in her belly.

“Good.”

Ashley pulled him back down to her, feeling the bed dip as he joined her, knees framing her hips, scent surrounding her.

She threaded her fingers through his hair, gripped it and messed it up because she could, because she’d always wanted to.

Even if she hadn’t quite known what all those feelings meant when she was eighteen and awkward, she did now.

She knew what the warmth deep in her gut meant, and she knew who caused it, and she wanted more.

They parted for air, and Ashley dragged her hands down his neck, over his shoulders, and down those strong arms. She slid them to his sides before dipping under his shirt, searching for bare skin, hot to the touch.

His stomach was flat beneath her hands and she spread her fingers apart, wanting all of him at once. Wanting to discover every part of him.

“I want so much,” she admitted, voice quiet as they breathed together.

“Whatever it is, you have it,” he promised, and leaned up, gripping his shirt at the back of the neck with one fist and pulling it over his head.

Ashley swallowed.

She was a simple creature, okay? She saw the guy she was in love with shirtless and she went a little goo-goo, alright?

In the dim light she traced him head to knee, and brushed a hand over a ragged scar at his side, the one she’d noticed at the waterfall.

“Don’t like this,” she muttered. “What’s it from?”

Dylan’s hand covered hers, holding her palm to the shiny, healed skin. “I was doing my job,” he said. “The other guy didn’t like that so much.”

A frown tugged at her lips. “What happened?”

“Another time,” Dylan said. “It’s not great pillow talk.”

“Is he dead?” she asked. Or was he out there, where he could still hurt Dylan?

“Yeah. He is.”

Something in Ashley relaxed at the news. There was no danger to him, not here, not now, and hopefully not ever.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

His willingness to share any part of himself with her was so endearing, so relieving, that she sat up, seeking his lips again. He met her, and their lips parted and came together.

Dylan cupped her cheeks before his touch began to roam, taking stock of her shape, learning her over the barrier of her comfy shirt before she got impatient and broke the kiss to pull at the hem.

Dylan helped, and she lifted her arms so he could slide it over her head, revealing the simple sports bra she wore beneath.

Ashley stripped that off, too, before Dylan could ever ask.

At least they got to skip the awkward parts as teenagers, she supposed. There was no gawking or weird pause as they both internally panicked.

It was all instinct as she pulled him close with a hand at the back of his neck, seeking skin against skin.

She shivered as she found it, her beaded nipples brushing against his chest.

Warmth pooled low in her gut, demanding, and she was just about to sit up, to push Dylan to the mattress and crawl atop him to appease her selfishness, when he laid her back down.

Her head hit the pillows, and Dylan pressed his palms into the mattress on either side, laying a chaste kiss on her lips.

“I want to learn every inch of you. Am I going too fast?” he asked.

Ashley shook her head, her fingers twitching over his shoulders. “Not fast enough.”

Dylan smirked, and it was slightly devastating, that smugness on his face when it concerned her.

They were on the same page, reading from the same book of making up for lost time.

Dylan shifted lower, dragging his lips, peppering kisses across her shoulder, her collarbone, nipping at the thin skin before dipping south. The tease of his hot breath made her arch into him before he caved and took her nipple into his mouth.

Ashley sighed, combing a hand through his hair encouragingly as he mouthed at her, tongue flicking, lips pulling.

He slid a hand up her side to cup the other one, her nipple brushing against his palm.

She shivered at the contrast from the cold air to his skin as he pulled back to blow on the peak.

“Stop that,” she hissed, laughing.

“No,” he answered simply, before lowering his mouth again.

Ashley let her head drop back into the pillows and fought the sly smile at her lips, losing the fight in seconds.

His touch shifted on her other breast, taking the nipple between two fingers, rolling gently. A line of heat licked right down her spine, and she clenched around nothing.

She widened her legs, letting Dylan fall comfortably between them, and they both hummed softly in unison as she felt the bulge of him against her.

Ashley rocked her hips up into him, and he rolled into her. While it wasn’t enough to truly stimulate her, just the mimicry of what was to come made her shiver, cunt welling with arousal.

Dylan switched to her other breast, and she gasped, attempting to keep quiet as ever as the cool air chilled the one he’d left behind.

Instead of plucking at the other with his free hand, he was slipping that hand between them, laying a palm over her side and sliding it over her stomach, which fluttered beneath his touch.

His thumb caressed the skin beneath her waistband, and Ashley twitched her hips into him, a hint.

He released her nipple with a pop, the tug a direct line to her cunt, and she bit her lip to keep from making a noise.

He hooked two fingers into either side of her leggings and tugged. Ashley let go of his shoulders and pressed into her palms to lift her hips, and he dragged them down her long legs easily. They landed in a heap on the floor, and she chuckled softly at his eagerness.

At least until Dylan faced her, his mouth going slack as he stared.

Ashley felt powerful under his gaze, rendering him speechless like that. Bravely, she rocked her right knee over, baring herself to him.

A growl, a noise she’d never heard from him, rumbled low and deep before he crawled back over her. She’d never been more aware of the fact that Dylan was no longer the boy she was in love with, but a man. An alpha.

She lowered herself flat to the mattress as he loomed, slotting between her legs low enough that she could feel his breath against her.

His palms were hot against her inner thighs as he spread her wider, and Ashley felt the cool air play between her folds.

“Dylan,” she whispered, because it was either that or hurry up.

“I know, I know, I’m going,” he murmured, and nuzzled at her inner thigh, scent marking her.

The idea that Cam and River would know what they’d done just from scent alone was… titillating.

He nipped at her and she jolted, nervous and anticipatory and wishing he would?—

“Oh!” she gasped, practically a squeak, as he lapped at her.

She covered her mouth, tensing as if to listen for movement throughout the huge apartment, but Dylan didn’t pause. Like a teenager hooking up in the dark, she stifled herself and tried not to laugh at the juxtaposition.

He parted her with two fingers, and once he had the taste of her on his tongue, he wrapped his lips around her clit. The sensation was enough for her hips to lift from the mattress, to chase him, but he pinned her down with a strong hand against her hip bone.

Christ, Ashley had a thing for being pinned, and there was no way he would know that, but somehow he was ticking all of her boxes.

She melted beneath him, reaching down to thread a hand in his dark hair, but only to hold on, because he didn’t need much directing.

The suction lessened, but only so he could flick his tongue over her swollen bud, and Ashley hissed out a “fuck, yes, yes” as quietly as she could.

He kept a steady, even rhythm, despite Ashley’s hips trying to lift against him, arching for more.

It swelled within her, a balloon in her gut, and every single flick of his tongue or press of his fingers into her hip, holding her in place for him, brought her closer.

His refusal to pause, the lack of reprieve—Ashley had no choice but to let him drag her to the edge, and promptly throw her off with no warning.

Ashley covered her mouth, bit her lip, and wanted to moan, but swallowed it as she gasped raggedly against her palm, hips rocking against his hold as the pressure gave way to something better, hotter.

Dylan kept his mouth on her, but his fingers dipped lower, and he gave her something to clench around. His first digit slid in with ease, her arousal slick.

“Christ,” he finally muttered as he felt her alpha lock clench down. “So fucking tight.”

Ashley let her arm fall away, freeing her mouth. “It’s the lock. You can’t knot me,” she said.

An alpha lock, much like an omega’s sweet spot, was a biological breeding mechanism. A muscle that clamped down at the moment of orgasm and refused to release until the pleasure faded. Paired with an alpha knot, it could be painful, and Ashley wasn’t up for that… tonight.

Dylan pressed his forehead to her hip and nodded. “Fuck, okay.”

But his finger continued to press deeper, pushing up against her g spot from the inside, and she trembled, pleasure keeping her high-strung. Then he added another, and Ashley panted, taking advantage of his busy hands to fuck herself on his fingers.

There was something about the desperation that was intoxicating, her body refusing to let go until it had gotten what it wanted.

But in this moment she just wanted Dylan, plain and simple.

Ashley’s hips moved of their own accord, every press stretching out the moment of orgasm until she wasn’t sure if another began or if the same one kept going.

When she collapsed to the bed a few moments later, her lock loosening, Ashley was covered in a sheen of sweat and her legs felt like jelly.

He added a third finger when he could, and Ashley whined low, still quiet, and tugged at his hair none too gently.

“Quit exploring. I want you inside me,” she whispered.

Dylan acquiesced, sliding his fingers free before licking the taste of her from them.

Before she could comment, he slid from the bed and then the room was filled with the sound of the zipper, the hiss of clothing as it was shed.

She shivered as he climbed back on the bed, nothing but skin against skin. His thighs against hers.

As if it was a reminder, all this bare skin, he paused. “Do I need a condom?”

Ashley shook her head. “I’m on birth control, and I’ve been tested since my last…”

“Me, too,” he said. “I’m in the clear, too, I mean.”

They chuckled before melting together, and she shook under him as he leaned down to capture her lips.

Their perfumes mixed, filling the air, her spicy ginger and citrus and his fresh-cut grass, ripped right from her memories. It was stronger now, in adulthood, with their skin closer.

She never thought she’d ever see him again, let alone be this close to him, able to feel his breath against her cheek and his heartbeat thumping through his chest.

Ashley kissed him back, attempting to let him taste the emotions on her tongue. The hurt and the forgiveness, her fucking… devotion to this stupid alpha, and all the love she was too scared to confess.

As the kiss broke, their breaths heavy, Ashley searched his eyes as he did the same to her.

“If you run this time,” she panted, “I will come after you.”

It was whatever he needed it to be, a promise or a threat or a vow.

“I won’t,” he murmured. “I won’t run. Not from you. Not ever again.”

In his gaze, in that moment, under the cover of the low light and with scant inches separating them, Ashley saw that he meant it.

Her heart crawled up her throat, and as it spilled out so did, “Prove it.”

Dylan’s lips parted, then closed, and she watched as he wet them. “Bond you?”

Ashley nodded.

Between them, where his length was trapped against her belly, she felt him twitch.

“You think I won’t?” he asked.

Ashley shook her head, widening her legs so he fell between them, and swallowed as she felt the heat of him against her. “I know you will.”

She reached between them to grip him in her hand and stroked, watching his eyes drift shut before he forced them open.

“I think you love me,” she said softly, seeing the past ten years from a different perspective. “I think you always have, and it scared you because we were so young.” Ashley tightened her grip, and his hips shifted, grinding into her touch. “We’re not so young anymore.”

Dylan shook his head and cupped the side of her face, tilting her up to him. The light from the moon cut across their faces in a dim blue slash.

Ashley led him to her core, and sucked in a breath as she felt him nudge against her.

“I do love you,” he said, and pressed inside.

Ashley felt the words as much as she heard them, her heart seizing, because as brave as she liked to play, she was also scared.

Scared that he’d leave again, because she didn’t know if she’d survive it this time.

“I love you, too,” she said. “Maybe ten years ago wasn’t the right time for us.”

“But now is,” he breathed, and their hips met as he nestled inside her.

Ashley nodded, eyes fluttering shut before she opened them as his hand tightened in her hair, scratching through her undercut.

“Now,” she agreed, and he lowered his head to her throat, inhaling before sliding a little to the right, to her shoulder.

It put his own skin right before her, and she pressed her lips against him.

“At the same time,” he said suddenly, and she paused with her mouth against his skin.

Ashley nodded. Her heart was racing, and she gripped at him, hands flat on his back as she held him close.

She was never letting him go again.

They’d make sure of it.

Together they parted their lips and inhaled, and she felt his teeth in her shoulder at the same time she bit down on his.

It hurt. It was blunt teeth biting through skin.

It was euphoric. A bond formed through love and pain and time and distance made real, permanent.

His emotions flooded her. Love. Adoration. Disbelief. Arousal. Something darker, more delicious.

Obsession.

And Ashley wondered if he felt the same things from her.

The bond curled around them and through them, snapped like a vise and sank into them.

Ashley withdrew her teeth from his skin, then lapped at his wound and tasted the metallic promise as it welled.

Dylan moved, finally, drawing back his hips and thrusting while he tended her bite.

Ashley’s moan was muffled in his skin, and she peppered kisses around his new mark, tending it until her neck hurt from straining. When she was certain it was sealed, she let her head thump into the pillows.

Dylan hummed against her, nuzzling her throat, his arms wrapping around her as his hips unhinged and swung into her again and again.

The slap of their skin filled the room and why was Ashley worried about being quiet when that was the noisiest thing of the night?

What they’d spent the night doing would be more than obvious the next day, when they both appeared scented like each other and permanently connected.

Bonded.

With Dylan.

Ashley grinned, stroking Dylan’s back and sides, and urged him on as he fucked her.

Each thrust shifted her on the bed, and she couldn’t help but chuckle, happy and delirious over her bond—her mate.

The press of him inside her, above her, around her, within her was intoxicating in ways she didn’t know were possible.

Her legs were still shaky from the first two orgasms, and Ashley could do little else than curve a leg around his back, arching into him.

He mouthed at her shoulder and held her close as he drove into her, his breaths ragged and hot against her skin.

“Dylan,” she panted, the syllables of his name broken by a thrust. She felt it, the knot of him swelling at his base, the nudge of it against her.

She tensed, but he made no moves to press harder against her. His pace stayed the same, but he shifted, adjusting his angle. He paused for a moment, laying the gentlest of kisses to her skin, her new mark.

Then he unthreaded his arms from around her and planted them on either side of her head.

His gaze was dark, lips curled. “Happy now?”

Ashley nodded, and felt the same burst of satisfaction from him. There was no hiding from each other any longer. There was no more bare one could be before another person than through their bond.

“I am, too,” he said softly, and kissed her as if they’d kissed a million times, and not as if Ashley could still count them on one hand.

Dylan began to move again, and with his new leverage he drove his hips into her, grinding low and deep so his knot brushed against her clit on every thrust.

Her nails bit into his shoulder blades as she hung on, sucking her lower lip between her teeth to muffle herself.

She was floating on the high of the bond, and each surge of him inside her only took her higher.

It was heat and pressure and a promise turned corporeal as it swelled and threaded through her until the only thing she could feel was Dylan.

She rocked into him, chasing his knot against her if she couldn’t have it inside of her. Pleasure flared through her, settling low, the warmth expanding, pressing like it needed out .

“Dylan,” she warned, holding onto him as if he were the only thing anchoring her here.

“Yes,” he breathed, hips stuttering for a split second before his rhythm returned. “Come on, come with me.”

As if it were his permission she sought— in his dreams —that was all she needed. He thrust into her, ground his hips as if he knew, brushing his knot against her in just the right way to set her off.

She came, and it was everything it always should’ve been.