Do no harm, p.30
Do No Harm, page 30
If they really didn’t care, why should she? What would be lost with her waves hanging down her back? Was she less of a person? Less worthy of respect? Rules, rules, rules.
Rules applied to a surgeon’s operating room until something went wrong—and then she’d bet one couldn’t care less if the person doing the saving was male, female, black, white, hair up, hair down, or none at all.
She shook her head, her thoughts spinning and getting lost. She’d been outside Asch’s bedroom for…too long. One of the doors was still ajar but she kept herself at the closed one. Waiting. For what, she had no idea.
But every time she’d tried to walk back to her…the other room, she was pulled back here by some force, something she couldn’t explain. Her mouth was dry, her heart was stuttering. Her body was hot, her head a mess.
What if she—?
“How long do you plan to stand there?” came Asch’s voice from inside the room.
Godfreakindammit.
She rolled her eyes at him. You’re rolling your eyes at yourself, don’t even start. “I was just walking.”
She heard his snort. “Walking requires movement, Evelyn.”
Her name felt like melted chocolate being poured into her ears, thick, velvety, rich, and hers. “I was admiring the woodwork, Aschere.”
“If you’re going to lie,” the ajar door was pulled open, “you’ll need to be at least somewhat convincing. That was wretched.” He stood against the doorframe, arms folded. He’d changed into a loose-fitting pair of sleeping pants and a soft-looking long-sleeved shirt on top. His hair was a bit more askew, his eyes bright. Bare feet. Interesting. “And if you’re going to drag your eyes up and down my body, at least be a bit more discreet—like I am when I do it to you.”
Evie’s mouth dropped a bit at his audacity.
He continued anyway with a smirk. “Do you need something?”
Her mouth felt like a puppet for her thoughts, her feelings. She could have put a bit more effort into trying to stop them, but it was like they had convinced her to just give up. At least her voice dropped to a whisper, for whatever that was worth. “I just wanted to be near you.”
Asch’s face and posture changed immediately. His shoulders dropped, his expression turned to one of concern, and he pushed away from the door-jamb. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” she looked away down the darkened hall, “it’s just a feeling. A…need.”
“Where do you feel it?”
She swallowed. “All over,” she whispered lower, not looking up. “Like I can’t walk away.”
“Then don’t,” he said quickly, firmly. He stepped back into his room and ushered her inside.
She checked the hallway one more time. For what? Ghosts? Boogeymen? Rigel? Arc?
And then followed him into his room.
It was bathed in a gentle glow. For some reason, Asch seemed to prefer candlelight to electricity. Possibly for someone who had lived so long, it might be a habit.
Closing the door behind him, he kept some distance as she stood in the middle of the room, taking it in. Despite having been here before, she hadn’t really looked. The beautiful, carved four-poster in the middle. A warming fireplace and wooden hearth. Doors to a closet and to a washroom and a private boudoir. Handcrafted armoires and a matching vanity table adorned the rear-facing windows. Luxurious curtains draped over the four long windows along either side. A bench sat at the end of the bed with a down blanket. The room was everything she could have ever asked for. It was almost like…she had designed it.
Asch didn’t speak from behind her at first. She felt vulnerable, embarrassed, but at the same time, as sure as she’d ever been.
Then his timbre lowered. “Are you waiting for me?”
She swallowed.
She heard him take a step forward and he continued. “Waiting for me to say something? Tell you what to do? Tell you what you want?”
“No,” she answered automatically.
But there was a subtle chuckle that told her he didn’t quite believe that. “Then you’re going to have to tell me what you want.”
Again, automatically, she looked down and shook her head, turning her fingers over and over against each other.
“Hmm,” he seemed to say as if she had answered a question somehow and he had understood it. “Then my way.”
Her head spun at that, looking behind her where he was now closer.
“I want you to go stand by the fire.”
Her eyes widened, feet rooted to the floor.
He lifted an eyebrow. “If you’re not going to tell me what you want, then you’ll do what I want.”
Heat flooded her chest, down, through her stomach, down, through her legs. She moved then, silently padding backwards towards the hearth. Asch followed, watching her closely, probably picking up the uptick of her heartbeat.
Asch lifted his chin slightly. “I’m going to undress you.” He said it as a statement, a fact he had known all his life.
Evie stopped a couple feet from the fireplace, feeling the heat on her back. Asch held up his hand and lifted a single finger. Which he then used to make a circle in the air.
She obeyed, turning in an unsteady circle until she was looking down at the flames. The warmth from the fire joined the heat already spreading through her. Her neglected backside was soon met with warmth from a different source.
Then his voice draped her over like a blanket. “I’m going to ask you questions while I work and you’re going to answer them.” She nodded, feeling him reach around her and begin unbuttoning the stays on her blouse one at a time. “Why are you shaking?”
She was shaking? I’m shaking? I’m shaking. “I don’t know.”
“Evelyn.” His hand left her blouse for a moment and lifted to her chin. He brought his finger under her neck and stroked gently against her skin. That did it. The contact. His skin to hers. He traced down her neck as she swallowed, her mouth running dry. And she was lost.
“I’m nervous.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He finished with the last button on her blouse and pulled it from her shoulders and down her arms, letting it fall to the floor. He then began pulling at the ties on her corset cover. “How many men have you kissed?”
She took a shallow breath. “Three.”
“Including me?”
“Including you.”
“How many have you seen naked?”
Another little breath. “I…”
“Renault does not count in any of these answers. He does not count as a human. And don’t count patients.”
Her heart stuttered and it was suddenly like that man never existed at all. “Only in the brothel.”
“But none personally.”
“No.”
Her corset cover shrugged over her shoulders and to the floor.
“Do you touch yourself?”
The hint of a whimper formed in her throat at the question. “I…have.”
The hint of a growl formed in his. “What—?”
“Do you?” she interrupted, as he continued releasing the ties on her corset, although her breathing didn’t become easier.
She felt the huff of a laugh as much as she heard it. “Frequently.”
She closed her eyes as the binding fell away from her body. “What do you think about?”
This time no laughter left his throat. “You don’t need me to answer that question.” She opened her mouth in protest of his protest. But he didn’t care. “I’m going to touch you. Everywhere. And you’re going to tell me to stop if you want me to stop.” He didn’t wait for a response or agreement. Or even objection. In only her chemise, the fabric suddenly light as air, he pressed his chest against her back and laid his hands on her stomach.
Evie could not have stopped the exhale of breath at the contact if she’d wanted to. His hands were hot, even with the light fabric in between. His fingers found the knots that tied her drawers around her hips and he slipped them off deftly, leaving one sheet of fabric between them. To her body, it felt like a continent of distance. Seeing his bare arm, she realized that at some point when her back was turned, he’d shed himself of his clothes. At least some of them. But something told her it was quite possibly all of them.
His hands returned to her stomach. “Do you regret what we did the other night?”
She knew immediately what he was referring to. Her eyes slid closed. “No.”
“Did you want to regret it?”
Her lips kicked up on one side. “Yes.”
He trailed his hands up, forming them around her breasts, a light gasp issuing from her mouth. “Did you feel guilty?”
She frowned despite the instant response of her nipples peaking under his touch. “Yes. I don’t know you.”
His lips lowered to the top of her ear. “Your body does. And you will never feel guilty for what we do.” She let her head rest back against his chest. “There is no shame in what you say, no fault in what you do. Tell me how it feels and what you want. Your body is the only thing you listen to. Not those whirling thoughts in your head. Not the voices of the people who told you what to do. Or what you can’t do. Just this,” he whispered and pushed his hands down her body, across her stomach, to the tops of her legs where he formed his hands around her hips. He pulled her back against him harder, the clear feeling of his erection pressing against her lower back. It ignited her, made her insides clench as if searching, needing.
Evie almost turned to touch him, to look at him, but he knelt behind her, his hands firm on her hips. He nestled his face into the small of her back, breathing her in.
His hands fell to her knees, pushing up her thighs to her ass, her legs shaking under his touch.
Asch pushed up the fabric of her chemise. “Take this off,” he said with his lips against her bare back. She shuddered at the contact of his skin.
After she pulled the fabric over her head, her heart pounding in her chest at the vulnerability, she tried to turn around again. But his hands kept her firmly in place above him. He spoke again. Another question. “Has anyone ever been inside you?”
Her mouth felt dry as she stared in the fire, his hands kneading her ass. “No,” she whispered. And then the familiar feeling of the ancient desire, ancient words and want reached from within her—except this time, it was a shorter distance. “I want to touch you.”
“I know,” he hummed back, but didn’t move. His hand slipped down one cheek and dipped between her legs. She gasped, the feeling delicious and sensual, but foreign. Asch gripped her other leg to keep her standing. His fingers traced along her wettened skin, through her legs until she could look down and see them.
Evie sucked her lips in and squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
“Sit back,” he commanded just as her legs became jelly. He perched her on his naked shoulder, holding her in place. The heat of the fire on one side and the heat of his presence at her back was intoxicating.
“Talk to me,” he said, his voice rough.
Evie wound her arm around his head until she could thread her fingers through his hair. He reached around her hip, stroked her, dipped his fingers inside her, moved her wetness around her heated skin. He had asked her to talk to him but she had no words.
“Evelyn,” he seemed to warn, as if she was not fulfilling her part of a deal.
“Yes,” she said simply, which made him chuckle.
“I need you to tell me—”
“You said ‘Evelyn,’” she breathed.
Asch slowed his ministrations, his muscles bracing under her. But he said nothing.
Evie lifted herself from his grasp and he let her. She turned, bare before him, wrapping her arms around his neck. His steely gaze locked with hers, trepidation and apprehension spiraling there.
Her eyes watched his lips until he parted them. “What do you want me to call you?”
She couldn’t help but smile at the gesture; after overhearing their conversation, she couldn’t imagine how painful it was for him to be holding only part of the love of his long life. Having all of the memories they had made together vanish in one sunny afternoon.
She looked down, raking her eyes over him. He sat back on his heels and pulled her down, her legs straddling his lap. The skin of her thighs met his and the moan that shuddered through Asch was indescribable. His muscles tightened again, his grip on her fierce, almost painful.
Asch’s hands moved from her ass, his fingers curling underneath her, finding her wet and exposed. She wanted to just get lost in the feeling but her eyes wouldn’t let her. Asch was in front of her, on his knees, and naked. She bit her lip at his spread knees, his cock proportional to his six-foot-five frame. The muscles in his thighs. She’d seen naked men at the brothel and she’d seen them through medical practice. But this was a completely different experience. She knew he liked to stay in shape, to work outside, to keep busy. And it showed. It wasn’t like those bodybuilders she’d seen in magazines. No, it was better. He seemed real.
He used his grip to pull her closer until their bodies were fully touching, his achingly hard cock settled between her legs. She gave a whimper.
“What do you want me to call you?” he repeated.
“You’re going to call me Evelyn,” she said, stating it like it was a fact from a medical encyclopedia, the urge to move her hips against him increasing.
He gave a rough squeeze with his large hands. “I’m going to call you whatever you want me to call you.”
“Why?” she whispered, not understanding. She thought back to all the times since she’d gotten here that he looked at her—the realization she now had that the sadness in his eyes was because she was not, and would probably never be, the person he loved.
But as if knowing her response, his expression shifted to one of painful lust. “Because I care for you; not the memories of a name.”
A shock of desire rocked down her body and she moved in response. Her clit slid against his cock in one smooth motion. Asch growled at her, like an animal getting frustrated with its prey. The silver in his eyes peeled away, leaving solid gray orbs that were slowly getting darker.
“This is what I want,” she said, inches away from his mouth.
“Don’t…”
But she moved again, flexing her hips out and dipping them back up. And that was a sensation she’d never felt before. Chest to chest, she slid against him—the velvety feel of his hardness against her most sensitive skin. She didn’t know if it was just them or if he was using magic, but either way, she couldn’t get enough.
Evie bit her lip and made to make the movement again, but he was faster. He lifted her and turned, laying her back on the carpet in front of the fireplace.
Asch braced himself over her, his hair dangling in his face, his eyes brewing storms. Her legs fell open wantonly and he settled himself between her hips. The sound she let out was ungodly and she closed her eyes in shame.
“Look at me,” he said as he shifted his weight and laid a hand on her breast, circling. Her eyes fluttered open and a sense of realization, recognition bloomed in her. It wasn’t a direct memory, not something she could picture. But her body felt aware of him, as if she’d been here before and yet for the first time. “I’m going to relearn every inch of you. And you’re going to tell me what you want.”
It came out of her mouth again like a prayer. “I want to touch you.”
Asch huffed a laugh. “Now that is something you never have to ask for.”
Her expression must have looked puzzled. “I…I don’t know how.”
His laugh again. “There is no way you could touch me that would be wrong.”
This time her expression must have been increasingly puzzled.
“Truly,” he urged, nodding down his body, “just look at the state you put me in.”
Evie went to open her mouth again, but he was faster.
“Stop thinking, Evelyn,” he said, and didn’t give her time for a response before his tongue was in her mouth. It was not a sensual kiss but a consuming one. It felt wholly indecent and decadent at the same time. It kicked desire down her spine and she reached for him, starting at his chest. Evie dragged the pads of her fingers down his stomach, tense above her own, down to his hips. His legs kept her own spread as she reached between them. His breathing stuttered immediately as her fingers touched his erection. She withdrew with a jump but his hand was instantly around her wrist. His voice had changed. It was darker, huskier, a hint of violence behind it. “Don’t stop.”
“But I don’t…”
“You do. You know. You know me. Stop thinking. Stop judging. You want to touch me? Touch me. You want me on my knees begging for you? Just ask.”
“Asch,” she breathed, not knowing what else to say. So she did as he instructed. She stopped thinking, stopped reading from a textbook. In fact the next thing that popped into her mind was a memory.
“What do you think?” Cat purred with a raised eyebrow.
The words tumbled out of Evie’s mouth without thought. “He’s lost to her.”
That’s what he means. That’s what she wants. To be lost.
Asch was her escape. And she was his. They could be lost together.
She reached down and wrapped her hand around his cock, her timid fingers meeting the soft skin. Slowly, she dragged her hand up towards the tip, squeezing a bit more firmly.
“God, Evelyn,” he groaned, his head dropping into her shoulder. Their height difference caused her to have to reach farther to find the base. Her confidence increased with every whimper from his lips. Again, she grasped near his balls, applying pressure as she stroked upwards. It was then that she realized this was supposed to fit inside her? That’s not possible.
“Fuck,” Asch’s hips bucked down in response. It made her want to do the same, aware of the wetness between her legs. She felt empty, needy, wanting to be filled by him—a feeling that she’d never felt before.
Suddenly her wrist was snatched and held next to her head. Asch stared down at her, his eyes dark as night. “Quick fucking learner. You’re gonna get me off way too fast if you keep going.”
