“Your eyes look darker with your pupils that wide, and your cheeks get flushed, and your body…” His wicked hand brushes over my crown, swollen and dusky in the dark. “I love it when you first wake up,” Ash tells me, his voice no longer sleepy but still graveled and rough. My dick is hard now, hard and pulsing against the cool air. “I just woke up.”Īsh makes a noise in the back of his throat, and his hand moves on my stomach again. “She’s in the bathroom,” I say, trying to suppress this new awareness of how hard our future is going to be. Once again, I feel the hollow space in the bed where she should be, and I have a brief moment of amused anxiety, because if I can’t stand to be apart from her when she’s in the restroom, how on earth are the three of us going to survive the next two and a half years? Or shit-six and a half years if Ash gets re-elected? It’s always a little rough around the edges, like someone took sandpaper to his words, but right after sleep, his voice is pure gravel, masculine and hungry. My cock jumps again at the sound of his voice. I reach out and trace his jaw, predictably already rough with stubble, and then run the pads of my fingers over his sleepy smile. Seeing it, if only for a few minutes, feels like some kind of gift, an unearned blessing. After Carpathia, after Morgan, after me, after Jenny-I never could have believed that I would see Ash breathe and smile without all that torment suffocating him. It’s such an unfamiliar look on him, both the openness of it and the happiness, and I stare into his face, drinking it in like a man dying of thirst. Ash opens his eyes and gives me a sleepy smile.
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