Page 15 of Blossoming Dahlia

Lips pressed against my neck, and I gasped, heat gathering between my legs as they trailed down between my breasts. Mylimbs were no longer trapped, and I opened my legs as an invitation. More kisses peppered the insides of my thighs, and I arched my back as my need grew. When his tongue dipped into my folds I moaned loudly, my hands tangling in his hair as he buried his face between my legs. He latched on to my clit and I whimpered, feeling my orgasm building as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through my body. “Ash, please,” I moaned, hips lifting to meet his tongue, desperate for my impending release.

I gasped as I woke up, disoriented, my heart pounding in my chest. Movement caught my eye, and I lunged with a yell, tumbling out of the bed as I gripped onto the intruder, my hand going around his throat. I braced myself to land hard, but they took the brunt of the fall as I crashed into their chest. My hand was still on their throat, and I squeezed, baring my teeth in a snarl as I sat up and cocked my fist to strike. I saw the mop of messy black hair and cursed, my fist dropping to my side as Asher gazed up at me, his throat bobbing under my grip. “Oh shit, not again,” I groaned, and he wheezed out an awkward laugh, his hands above his head in a sign of surrender. I was sure if he wanted to, he could have me up and off of him in a heartbeat, he was nearly three times my size. But instead, he let me take him down every time, going limp under my grasp. I loosened my hold on his throat, and he took a deep breath in, giving me a crooked smile.

“I’m sorry, you were just making a lot of sounds again, I came to see if you were okay,” he told me softly, and I blushed harder, remembering the dream I’d been having. I was still throbbing, the ache between my thighs refusing to calm down, especially not while I was pressed against Asher. His shirt had ridden up during the struggle, revealing toned abs, and I tried not to stare.

“More dreams, I’m really sorry if I woke you up,” I murmured stupidly. What noises had he heard? Screams or moans? Mybrain was still catching up with reality, and I realized that I was just straddling his lap, my hand on his throat. I withdrew my hand, and he let out a breath through his teeth, his eyes unfocused and staring at a spot behind me. Fuck, had I hurt him? I stood up quickly, stumbling back from him. “Seriously, just toss some water on me next time,” I told him, turning back to my bed, I looked down, and, of course, my nipples were standing at attention, freed from the confines of my bra last night. My face was going to melt off from the heat of my embarrassment.

I could hear Asher standing up behind me, and I busied myself with smoothing invisible wrinkles in the comforter on my bed. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about the dream?” he asked, and I jumped when his hand brushed my shoulder. I tried to stay calm, but I leaned into his touch, craving the warmth and the comfort that it brought.

“Okay, that might be a good idea,” I replied softly. I turned back to face him, backing up until I was sitting on the edge of the bed. That didn’t work well, I was still keyed up from the bad part of the dream, and having Asher looming over me made my heart race. “Sit down please, or something. Sorry.” I cringed, rubbing my hand over my face.

Asher, to his credit, obeyed without question, settling down beside me on the edge of the bed. I crawled fully on the bed and knelt, gaining the height advantage my primitive brain needed to stop freaking the fuck out for the moment. I rubbed my hands over my thighs nervously, licking my lips. “I was um… I think it was supposed to be like I was drugged. Only I wasn’t, um, unconscious,” I began, and Asher nodded quietly, remaining stock-still as he listened. “I was trapped, or I mean, I couldn’t move. I was frozen, but awake. I couldn’t scream, but my eyes were open. I saw his shadow, I felt him in the room with me,” I murmured, my hands starting to shake. “I never saw his face,but I felt his hands wrap around my neck,” I told him, bringing my hand up to the bandages around my throat.

“I heard you trying to scream, that’s what woke me up,” Asher said, and I winced, embarrassed.

“This dream was different though, at the end you… uh… you shot him. I think. I heard a noise, and then he fell away,” I continued, picking at a thread on my pajama pants.

“Oh, how did you know it was me?” he asked, his eyebrows raising. I blushed again, my face just a red beacon at this point.

“I saw your face. You said it would be okay,” I murmured, smiling.

He nodded as if this confirmed something for him. “You, uh, said my name,” he confessed ruefully. “You made some, uh, more noises for a minute, and then said my name. That’s when I tried to wake you up, I wasn’t sure if you were in pain or something.” He ran his hand through his hair. I laughed nervously, wondering just how much he was lying about thosepainnoises. I knew for a fact I was not in pain at that point.

“I swear, I’m not just baiting a trap in order to attack you every morning,” I told him earnestly, earning a laugh.

“It’s fine, it actually makes a lot of sense if you think about it. Your trauma stems from a lack of control over your own body, so your mind is seeking out a way to exert dominance and regain some of that control.” He shrugged. “It could be worse, you could be attacking me with a lamp or something.” I laughed, relieved at his clinical analysis of things, it made it less… cringy, I guessed.

“Who needs therapy, I just need to sit on people when I’m anxious and assert my dominance,” I joked. “That will be fun to explain to new people.”

“There’s whole lines of work that are basically that premise.” Asher shrugged again, and then his eyes widened and it was histurn to blush. “Not that I… I didn’t mean it like that,” he told me quickly.

“Did you… just suggest I become a dominatrix?” I asked, my eyes narrowing at him. He looked ready to sink into the floor, and it was a relief that I wasn’t the most embarrassed person in the room anymore. “Ash, I’mshocked!” I exclaimed in mock horror, lifting my hand to my chest.

“No, I just… sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not saying you’re a Dom, or you should become one. Unless you enjoy that, in which case by all means.” He was stumbling over the words, his brain working faster than his tongue could. I was overcome with a fit of giggles, the stress leaving my body as I shook with laughter.

“I don’t even know much about that sort of thing, honestly. We had a case years back, and it involved some people at this club. We interviewed a few people there, and then I had to do some background research, and it was all about the club lifestyle and then, well the research was actually very illuminating. There’s a lot of psychology involved with the whole thing, as there is with most sexual deviancies or kinks. It’s really very interesting. But I would never suggest—I’m not implying anything about you or anything. Therapy is always the best option.” He groaned, and dropped his head in his hands. Tears of laughter were streaming down my cheeks, and I patted his shoulder, unable to get the words out to console him, my laughter stealing the air from my lungs.

“Thank you,” I finally gasped out, wiping my eyes as my chest heaved. “You just cheered me up.” I grinned at him, and he finally met my eyes, smiling back. His gaze sparked the ember of heat in my core, reminding me of the rest of the dream. He didn’t need to know that part, he saved me and that was where the dream ended as far as he was concerned. A stray lock of hair had fallen across his eyes, and my fingers itched to brush it away.He was right, something in me craved to put him on his back and use him to address the ache between my legs. I looked away quickly, my gaze shooting to the clock on my side table. “I guess it’s too late to try and get some more sleep,” I mused.

“Want some coffee?” Asher offered, and I nodded, shifting to the side of the bed until my feet hit the ground.

“Sure, that would be great. I think I’ll just have a quick shower,” I told him, and he stood quickly, nodding as he retreated out of the room, closing the door behind him.

I’d just had a shower last night, but I had to calm down a bit before I did something stupid. I grabbed some clothes and headed to the bathroom. I didn’t need to wash my hair, but I still stayed under the water longer than I needed to, trying to ease the tension in my stomach that seemed to be growing every time Asher looked at me. I hadn’t felt aneedlike this in months, fear of death had a hand in that I was sure. And I wasn’t a sexual deviant or anything, even before being kidnapped. I had enjoyed sex though, and now that Josh was out of the picture, it was something that I wasn’t sure how to find again. How would I go to a bar and meet someone new, if the entire time I’d been wondering if he’d drug me and lock me in a basement? What will someone say the first time they see all the scars on my back? Or fuck, what if they recognized me? The laughter from earlier was gone, replaced by a despair so overwhelming I had to brace myself on the wall.

I took several deep breaths, grounding myself as the water began to cool on my back.One day at a time. Just get through today.I turned off the water and got dressed, focusing on the feel of my own clothes on my skin. As per the doctor’s instructions, I kept things loose and soft. I had a long flowy skirt that went to my mid-thigh, and I paired that with a loose blouse, one of my favorites. It was blue with little white flowers along the neckline, dipping just a bit to offer a hint of cleavage whilestill being appropriate for most settings. It made me feel very light, and I liked to think the flowers looked a little like Dahlias. The humidity from the shower had my hair curling a bit, but looking at it in the mirror brought me none of the joy that it used to. I loved my hair, it was just like my mother’s. But the way Curing had always put so much effort into my blond hair made my stomach twist. I wanted to ruin that image for him, take that back for myself. The first chance I got, I was cutting it all over. Hell, maybe I’d dye it too, a new color for a new me. For theAfter.

Creeping back out into my room, I poked my head out to see if Asher was still up and about. I could smell the coffee as soon as I opened the door, and I followed it into the main room, finding him leaning against the counter, a mug already in his hands. “Is it any good?” I asked, his eyes scanning me in a quick assessment. His tongue poked out as he licked his lips, and I looked down and smoothed my skirt nervously, trying not to blush.

“It’s not bad. Hunter is a coffee snob, so he’d hate it, but I know how to wrangle a decent cup out of hotel coffee makers,” he told me matter-of-factly, and I smiled. He grabbed the second mug from the little tray on the counter and rinsed it out in the sink, drying it off before filling it with coffee. The whole process was so automatic, I wondered how many days a year he spent in a hotel, living day to day out of a suitcase in places that weren’t home.

I took the mug he handed to me, smiling gratefully and heading over to the couch, opting for the comfort of the cushions over the hard plastic of the chairs by the table. I tucked my legs up so I could sit sideways on the couch, and Asher followed me, sitting down on the opposite side. “Where do you live?” I asked, lifting the mug to my face so I could inhale the smell as it cooled.

“Here,” Asher replied, mimicking my movements with his own mug. “Oh, I mean, not here like the hotel. But here, in the city,” he amended, and I smiled. “I’ve got an apartment downtown. Actually not too far from here.”

“Oh that’s convenient. Will Hunter come and take a shift so you get to go home for a bit?” I asked, and I thought I saw his lip turn down a bit, but it was quickly hidden by his coffee mug.

“Maybe,” he replied. “He’s still leading the manhunt for Curing and dealing with the media, so he’s going to be pretty busy for the next little while.” He shrugged. “I don’t mind anyway, I don’t have any plants that need watering or anything.” I smirked, that somehow fit him perfectly. I wondered if his apartment consisted of only the necessities, like a more permanent hotel room, or if it was chaotic, a mess of half-finished thoughts and crappy pens. I felt a pang of loss, remembering I was currently homeless and my life was in a suitcase and a storage unit somewhere.