Page 59 of Cut Me Down

I feel my pull run back and hit me like a freight train as it flies off the railing into bliss. My body tightens as much as it physically can, and it begins to shake as I feel our combining juices run down from my pussy, over my ass, and fall onto the bed. I'm tired of washing sheets every day, but I suppose it’s a good price to pay. I feel him shake beneath me as he comes, and that might be hotter than anything else. The fact that I pleasure this man so well intensifies the warmth already returning to my core. Almost preparing me for another round. He may command me during sex, but I feel I could bring this man to his knees if I needed to.

He gently removes himself, a gush of his cum running down after the motion, and puts me down before he crawls up to see me, face to face. As he pulls the cloth out of my mouth, I can finally catch my breath. The heavy pants predominant through his kiss as he releases the ropes, freeing my hands. I lay there for a moment, trying to gather the stars in my vision to see him clearly.

“I need to tell you something.” He says, almost hesitantly. “I probably should have already, but I didn’t want you to worry.” He says with heavy breaths as he sits up and pulls my hands with him, helping me up as well.

“Okay? What’s up?” I sit up, straightening my legs out on the bed to loosen the muscles.

“The night I killed that man from the bar, I found out Cooper was working for Dust.” I feel my heart sink, but I try to school my features.

Of course he was, I’m not surprised. Just like I thought, evil never changes. Cooper was a very small time ‘pot’ dealer during our time together. Or at least he insisted that’s all he sold. I was never completely convinced, but of course, I wasn’t allowed to ask questions. It only makes sense he kept up his bullshit after our hearing and he moved away.

“Now they’re looking for him. That’s the main reason he came back after leaving Seattle. He was supposed to take over the territory and run it. I'm not sure what all of that means yet, but I wanted to let you know. Also, we don’t think the guy from the other night was Dust. Probably just cracked out of his mind.” He forcefully chuckles, trying to lighten the mood, and I nod my head at him. Drug dealers will do whatever they want, I know that. I know that all too well. Just like I know how addicts act. When they’re high, nothing makes sense or matters more than what they’re thinking of in that exact moment in time.

“Okay.” I say as emotionlessly as I can, even though this new information terrifies me. I feel the shiver run down my spine, like an old friend greeting me, and I try my best to conceal it from Damien. However, the slight shift in his gaze alerts me to the fact that he noticed. He always notices my slightest movements, and I should’ve known better than to try.

“Why do you say it like that?”

“Drug dealers are hard to read. It depends on how high they are. I imagine fifty percent of the time they don’t even remember Cooper, so it’s probably not a big deal.” Of course it is, I know it is, but I meant what I said. All too well. I remember those years with my parents. They forgot they had a child; I imagine it’s not much different for acquaintances. Sometimes it’d be days before I saw my parents again. Always wondering where they were, if they were alive, or if they had finally been arrested for more than a day.

“I'm sure it’s going to be fine.” He says gently, trying to console me.

“Yeah I'm sure it is.” I look down at the bed.

“What’s wrong, Ashia?” I don’t know what’s wrong. I just have this feeling in my gut that things are about to get very bad. It could be from the sex and newfound discoveries, but this is more of a pull from my sense of danger.

All of this has brought back a lot of thoughts, and a lot of feelings. Not even so much of Cooper, but of my parents. All of the times they abandoned me or abused me were shoved in the back of my mind somewhere. I just thought I buried them deeper than this, and I'm angry with myself for allowing them to resurface so easily. I haven’t talked about my parents in a very long time, and I’m not about to start now.

Why does he keep asking me that? And I might just be a little sensitive, but why so formally to? It makes me feel like I’m in trouble, or I’ve done something wrong. I hate the feeling in my chest and limbs when my full name is used.

“Why do you do that?” I shoot him an aggravated look.

“Do what?” He shoots back with confusion.

“You either call me pet names, like little wolf, baby, baby girl, or you call me by my full name when everyone else calls me ‘Ash’. Why?” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Why would I shorten something so beautiful?” He thinks it’s beautiful now, but I'm sure in a short few months he'll hiss through his teeth when he says it. It’s not beautiful, it’s a lie. I don’t miss how easy my name is to say with malice, or how lips would curl as it was spoken from peoples’ mouths.

“Well, I'm glad you like it.” I say, being sure my attitude is still present.

“You don’t?” He asks surprised.

“Does anyone like their name?”

“I like mine.” He says with a smirk.

“Of course you do, it’s sexy, and well thought out.”

“You don’t think Ashia is? I’ve never heard of anyone else with that name.”

“No, actually I hate it.” I snap at him, and he looks at me with worry in his eyes as he puts his hand on my thigh.

I take a deep breath, preparing myself to unveil even more to this striking man. I can’t believe I'm about to tell him this, the only other people that know are Serena and her parents, but that’s only because they were present when this story spewed out of my mother’s mouth. I shouldn’t feel this anxious about sharing with Damien anymore. He never seems to ask because he wants to judge me or think less of me because of it. He’s genuinely curious and seems to want to know so he understands me better. My inner turmoil just doesn’t allow me to see that clearly.

“My name was supposed to be Ashley, but my mom was so cracked out when she filled out the paperwork, she misspelled it and wrote Ashia. She left me in the nursery the whole time she was there after giving birth to me. They found her cracked out in the parking lot and made her fill out the forms. She never cared to fix it.” His face falters, and his brows crease. I look back down at the bed, unable to meet his sympathetic gaze. “I only know that because my mother showed up to one of the Anderson’s cookouts high as a kite and told the story. It may not even be true, but it sounded convincing enough.” He moves his hand from my leg and up to my face. Lightly grazing my jaw before he grasps my chin in his hand and pulls my face to him. His lips graze my own in a light, caressing kiss, and then he pulls back.

“I told you I was going to make you love yourself again, and we’ll start with that.” He bites the sensitive area under my jaw as he stands up. “Get on your knees.” My eyes widen.

“What?” He flashes those bright blues at me with that devilish grin, and my gaze shifts to his enormous cock standing at attention and staring right at me. “I don’t see how this is supposed to help me feel better about myself. How the hell is that supposed to fit in my tiny ass mouth?”

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