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He gave me a small smile as he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “That’s okay, Doe. You let me know when you figure it out, though, all right? No matter how long it takes.”
His lips left a tender kiss on my forehead before he released me and took several steps back. His movements seemed tense and forced. I instantly felt cold and hollow without his touch.
“You can keep my hoodie on if that’s what you want,” he continued softly. “Just put some shorts on for me, okay? It’s going to be hot today.”
He didn’t wait for me to respond, which was good because I wasn’t sure if I was capable of it at that moment. Instead, he spun me in the direction of my closet and gently pushed me forward.
“I’ll meet you downstairs so I can have breakfast with you and your family.”
I nodded. “O-okay.” My voice came out so weak and small.
I paused to watch him climb through my window, leaving me alone in a daze of confusion and dejection.
About a week had passed, and Ace was honoring his promise to keep his hands to himself.
And I was pretty sure I was about to lose my mind.
Yeah, I know, I know, I was the one who demanded he stop touching me in a sexual way. But I never believed he would be quite so capable of it.
But, oh no, he was more than capable; he was a fucking expert at keeping his hands to himself.
In fact, not only was he succeeding at not touching me sexually, but he was avoiding making any physical contact with me altogether.
I’m not kidding; it was as if I’d contracted the goddamn plague or something. He started to stand at least a foot away from me and kept his hands safely stowed in his pockets.
For the first time since we’d met at six years old, he didn’t hold my waist as he walked me through the school hallway, or grip my thigh while driving, or wrap his arms around me while we slept.
Even the hickeys on my neck were starting to fade. I couldn’t remember the last time I didn’t have giant bruises all over my neck.
And I hated it. I hated it so freaking much.
I wished I had never said anything. I wished I hadn’t threatened to make him sleep on his own if he didn’t start behaving. Confusing touches from Ace were better than no touches.
Because of this, I had started to depend on our time sleeping next to each other to touch him instead.
Throughout the week, he would start each night on the other side of the mattress, putting space between us. Then, once he fell asleep, I’d shift closer until I could nuzzle his chest.
Something instinctive in him made him instantly wrap his arms around me in his sleep, and my relief was instantaneous.
Tonight was no different, except that I didn’t fall asleep the moment his arms came around me. Instead, I spent several minutes studying him, watching him while he slept.
I wasn’t sure why I did this. A big part of me just missed him. We spent nearly every hour of every day together, and yet, without physical contact, I felt lost.
Carefully, I maneuvered my body so I was lying partially on my stomach, my upper half spread over his chest. One of his arms remained tightly around me.
I studied his calm expression. He had to be the most beautiful man alive: all sharp lines, an angular jaw, and chiseled cheekbones. He was beauty personified, my own personal Adonis.
I reached up and gently ran a finger over the scruff of his chin. The dark shadow of his beard was always at its most prominent at night, and I secretly loved it.
Especially when he rubbed it against the spot on my neck that he liked to suck on.
I moved my hand higher to touch his smooth, full lips, then shifted as I tried to get the throbbing between my legs under control.
What would his lips feel like against mine? Will I ever get to feel that? Will he ever want me in that way?
Gently, I pulled his bottom lip down, suddenly curious to see his teeth. Straight and white, just like normal teeth, except for his long, pointed canines.
They were almost animal-like—intimidating and menacing.
The throbbing in my core increased. The ache for release was getting worse with every passing day. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could take it.
Why couldn’t he be the one to admit his feelings for ~me~? Why did I have to be the one who was head-over-heels in love with her best friend?
Without thinking, I touched one of his pearly-white canines.
I didn’t consider how weird it was to put my finger in another person’s mouth while they were sleeping, just that I wanted a closer look at this strange tooth.
Something compelled me to press my thumb against it, pushing until it drew blood.
My body exploded in delicious flames. Liquid fire traveled from my thumb and through the rest of me, making my brain short-circuit.
I automatically pressed my thumb deeper, desperate for more of the sensation.
The wave of pleasure ended much too soon, just as fast as it had started.
I gasped, tugged my hand away, and immediately sat up. I studied the small nick on my thumb with interest. Why did that feel so good? And why do I want to do it again?
“You trying to mark yourself, sweet girl?”
I squeaked and whirled around to see Ace was watching me with a smirk on his face.
“I-I, um,” I stammered, hugging my still-tingling hand to my chest.
Ace sat up, his muscles rippling with the movement. I licked my lips.
“It’s okay,” he said, his voice husky and deep with sleep, adding to the hot wetness between my legs. “Let me see.”
He pulled my hand to him and examined the nick on my thumb and the blood dripping down my wrist.
He hummed in amusement. “You pressed in deep, baby. Did it feel good?”
I nearly stopped breathing. “Good?”
He nodded, his sensual smile growing bigger. “I bet it felt real good, huh?”
Before I could respond, he dipped his head and dragged his tongue from my wrist all the way up to my thumb, cleaning the blood from my skin.
Then he swirled his tongue around the tip before sucking the entire thing into his mouth with a deep groan.
He sucked on it for several seconds, paying extra close attention to the small wound at the top, running his tongue over it several times.
All I could do was sit there and stare like an idiot, my heart doing flip-flops in my chest, and my core clenching and releasing.
After another moment, Ace released my thumb from his mouth with a satisfying pop and then leaned back to admire his handiwork. “There we go,” he drawled. “All better.”
He licked it one final time before allowing me to pull my hand back to me. My eyes widened. The small wound was now nothing more than a white scar on the tip of my thumb, completely healed.
“How did you—?”
“Now, as much as I enjoyed that,” he said, “no more marking yourself, okay? It’s not safe if I’m not the one biting you. We’ll do that when you’re ready.”
“I-I…” I shook my head, certain I wasn’t comprehending what was happening.
“What?”
He laid back in the bed. “What?” he asked as his eyes drifted shut.
How the hell was he acting so nonchalant after he just sucked my bloody thumb in his mouth like a damn porn star?