FORMERLY

Chapter 6

The trip to the hotel was hazy. It was all a jumble of drunken limbs and sweaty hormones on Asher's car seat. I could hardly remember how I even got to the penthouse suite bed, and even less so of how I ended up here on Asher's bed with my dress down to my waist.

The silk of his bed hugged my naked front as his hands cupped my equally naked behind. His hands were grazing my skin one second, and then roughly holding me the next—I turned into a pile of moaning and willing mess.

However, Asher sure did not lie when he said that he would not be gentle. He had not once looked at me or uttered my name from the moment we left the club. It was all, 'get down' and 'stop moving'. He pushed me and kept my back to him, just like now. He held me by my hair and had me bent over the bed. My face was pressed tight onto the covers, and I could smell Asher on it.

Suddenly, I felt Asher enter me without any without warning or hesitation, like he was intentionally trying to drill right through me. I felt the burn initially but he kept going faster and faster.

The burn never went away. Instead, I welcomed the creeping of pleasure that stemmed from where Asher was pushing in and out.

My eyes rolled back and my mouth left gaping as I could feel every single inch, vein, and atom inside of me. I moved my hands above my head and clenched onto the sheets, trying to get a grip of earth.

"Oh god..." I muttered continuously. Then in a softer voice, more gentle, and one that I had not used in years, I whispered, "Asher".

He suddenly stopped, only to turn me around gently, just like my voice had been. I could now look at his face and see the dripping sweat that fell from his forehead, to his smooth chest, and down to his waist. My eyes moved up again and locked onto his and I could see the shadows of lust, but more clearly, I saw that there was a vulnerability in him I had never imagined him capable of feeling.

My surprise caused me to feel uncomfortable, so I looked away, and back onto his chest. There was a fading scar on his left side. It was still pale from the healing flesh and shaped beautifully like a crescent—that is, if scars can be beautiful.

He continued to thrust into me, this time more rhythmic and melodic and gentler.

His hands caressed the area between the pinch of my waist and the swell of my hips. Our new rhythm seemed to pleasure the both of us more, since in the next minute, the decibel of moans shot up.

I felt the growing pleasure with my entire body, and I knew that I was almost over the edge. Judging from Asher's pinched brows and increased thrusts, he was too.

My increasing urgency caused me to push against Asher's thrust, and I fell apart in the next second in an orgasm that brought me up to the heavens. My head was light and my body shuddered.

Asher followed right after. He pulled his head back and closed his eyes. I felt a warm and thick fluid enter me.

However, what took me aback was what he yelled out when he came.

In a heart wrenching voice, he said ,"Elle".

And just like that, with a one syllable, four letter word, I was yanked from my heaven and slammed down onto cold, hard concrete. I felt the alcohol clear away from my mind, and I felt the stark low against my recent high.

My eyes flied onto his left chest where his scar was carved onto him, and I almost slapped myself for not putting the pieces together soon enough.

His name was also Asher.

He called me Elle.

He had a scar, the same scar in the same place.

The same scar that I had given him when I pushed him into a glass table when we were 10.

There was no chance that this was a coincidence, and even if it was, one night with him had brought back years of locked up memories and feelings.

His body fell beside me, and he rested his head on my shoulder. His proximity brought a sense of dread to me.

I needed to get out of here. He couldn't find out who I was.

Waiting for Asher to fall asleep, I laid on the bed stiff and sore. Asher, the boy who had been more important to me than my parents growing up, was laying on me right now. But instead of feeling happiness, I wanted to run out of the room, as far away from him as possible. Before I knew it, tears were flowing down my cheeks. I had promised myself that I would never think of him when he left, but just seeing him tonight caused my heart to pound and my ears ring.

When I finally heard his breathing slow down, I moved his head off of my shoulder. I moved quickly to put on my clothes. My hands shook in fear of waking him up. However, I managed to dress myself and I bolted to the door.

Unknowingly though, I stopped and turned around. I wanted one last look at him, to say a good bye. To maybe congratulate him on his success, tell him he turned out well, and perhaps even tell him what happened to me. 

But all that I got was a last look at his face—his closed eyes, long lashes.

I sighed and turned around, getting out of his penthouse. Trying my best to forget about this night that would become the final ruination of our childhood past.

Goodbye Asher.