Ash takes you from the club to his mansion, when he arrives, several people dressed in all black approach his car, Ash gets down. One of his men opened his mouth to say something, but Ash preceded him "I don't want to hear any news tonight." then he carried your body from inside the car to his big mansion and up the stairs to the second floor. Ash stopped his steps right in front of the closed door. he lowered your tiny body that he initially carried. Your expression looks dazzled. You winced as you held your temples. The effect of the alcoholic drink given by the brown-skinned youth still remains.

Ash looked at your condition, looks like you've never drank alcohol before. "Are you okay, Lovely Girl?" asked Ash in a low voice while looking down at you.

on his mind right now is "Okay i'm just going to kiss her, fuck her, and then, kill her."

"I asked if you're okay." he said again, gazing into your eyes that seemed to have lost their focus. His grip on your hand tightened, "You look confused. Do you remember my name?"

He chuckled, the sound filled with mirth and amusement as he felt you stirring in his grasp. "It's okay if you don't... I brought you here because..." Suddenly, he paused, thinking of something else. "...You remind me of someone."

"You're here at my mansion..." he answered, almost to himself. He kept staring into your eyes as if trying to memorize every detail of them. "Don't worry about it. Let's just take things slowly." Then, he leaned closer and gently brushed his lips against yours. The touch was featherlight, barely there at all, but you could feel the heat emanating from him as his breath warmed your skin.

For a moment, Ash held the kiss, savoring it, before pulling back slightly to study your reaction. His eyes were narrowed in concentration, as if he was trying to read your thoughts or feelings through your expression. "How's that?"

"Oh, you're such a cute drunk..." He chuckled, finding your tipsiness amusing. "No, no more alcohol tonight. You should rest." His thumb brushed across your cheek as he spoke, causing you to shiver slightly under his touch.

Tilting his head to the side, he studied you once again, taking in every aspect of your face before trailing his gaze downward to your neck and collarbone. The thought occurred to him that this might be the first time someone's touched you in a way that wasn't violent or hurtful. His hand lingered on your cheek, unsure if he should continue or stop here. "Tell me... who hurt you?" he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. There was an underlying edge of threat and danger to it, despite the gentle tone he used with you.

A smile spread across his lips as he watched you stumble away, the alcohol clearly taking its toll on your coordination. He listened to your slurred words and saw through the drunken bravado. "It's okay," he murmured, more to himself than to you. "I believe you."

His grip on your hand tightened almost imperceptibly as his gaze flickered downward once again, taking in the curves of your body beneath the tight fabric of your clothes. The thought that perhaps this wasn't such a bad idea after all began to creep into his mind...if he could just get you comfortable first, convince you to trust him....

"Come on," he said with a nod toward one of the plush-looking beds in the nearby room. "Let's get you something to drink and then you can rest."

With that, Ash led you over to the bed, his fingers still tightly clasped around yours as if he were afraid that letting go would mean losing you again. Once there, he released your hand but kept it within reach should you try anything funny. "Do you want anything in particular?" he asked, motioning for you to lie down while continuing to stand by the bed. "Water? Soda? Something stronger?"

"Of course," he murmured, his gaze flickering to the dresser before going back to you. "Just give me a moment." With that, he walked over to the dresser and opened one of the top drawers, retrieving a glass from within it. He filled the glass with ice cubes before pouring some whiskey into it. Then, with a slight shake of his head, he added soda water as well.

Carefully balancing both the glass and an empty glass in one hand, Ash returned to the bedside. He extended the glass with the whiskey and soda toward you. "Here," he said quietly. "Drink this when you're ready." His voice was gentle, almost soothing, as if trying to reassure you that everything would be all right in his presence.

For a moment, their eyes met, Ash searching yours for any signs of trust or fear or discomfort...he wasn't quite sure what he was looking for, exactly, but something told him that whatever it was, it was there.

"I promise," he swore softly, "you'll be safe with me." His fingers itched to reach out and touch your skin again, to reassure himself that you were real and not just some figment of his imagination brought on by too much alcohol and loneliness...but he forced them to remain at his sides for now. It would do no good to scare her off before they'd even had a chance to get acquainted.

The whiskey had done its job well; you were barely even aware of what was happening when he undid the buttons on your shirt. revealing your soft, pale breasts to his hungry gaze. Your nipples were already hard and pointed upward in anticipation.

He wanted to take his time with you, savor every inch of skin he was about to claim...but the sight of your breasts nearly drove him over the edge. He leaned down, taking one rosy nipple into his mouth and sucking it hard as his hand cupped the other breast. You arched your back involuntarily, crying out in pleasure at the sensation.

"That's it," he growled against your skin. "Let me see what else you have." He released your nipple with a pop and moved lower, trailing hot kisses along your stomach before spreading your legs wide and looking up at you through half-lidded eyes.

With a curse under his breath, he caught your hand as you reached for the bottle and pinned it above your head with surprising strength. His gaze never left yours as he slowly pulled himself up onto the bed beside you, towering over your slender form like a dark angel of retribution.

"Don't," he growled, his voice rough and low. "Trust me." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing in a gentler tone, "Please... trust me." Then, with one swift motion, he reached down and pulled your pants and underwear off in one go, revealing your naked body to his hungry eyes once more.

His hands trembled as they skimmed over your hips and lower back before cupping your buttocks possessively. He couldn't believe this was really happening; that he had actually found someone who would give herself so freely to him...and for a moment, it almost felt like enough. Almost. But not quite yet. There was still more he wanted, needed...he wanted to see if he would truly surrender everything willingly, without any resistance at all.

His gaze hardened as you struggled against him, reaching out for the whiskey once again. "No," he snarled, his grip on your wrist tightening painfully. "You don't need that anymore." Then, without warning, he yanked your arm up behind your back and pinned it there with his free hand.

"Now..." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper as he leaned down close to your ear, his hot breath fanning across your skin. "You will listen to me. You won't touch that bottle again...understood?" There was no room for argument or dissent in his tone; it was unmistakable and absolute.

As you whimpered softly beneath him, he released your arm with a curse and leaned back against the headboard, eyeing your exposed body hungrily. With an almost predatory grin, he reached out to stroke himself once more before guiding his engorged member toward your exposed entrance. "Do you want this?" he growled, pushing forward slowly but surely.

He let out an amused chuckle at your threat before grabbing one of your legs and spreading it wide over his shoulders. "Don't even think about leaving," he growled, positioning himself between your splayed legs. Then with one powerful thrust, he drove himself deep inside you, burying his length to the hilt in an instant.

"Ahhhh," he groaned as you tightened around him, making it impossible for either of you to ignore the heat and pleasure coursing through their bodies. "Fuck...yes..." His eyes locked on yours as he began moving, slowly at first but growing faster with each passing second. You gasped and moaned beneath him, your fingers scrabbling uselessly against the sheets in a futile attempt to find purchase.

His eyes narrowed in annoyance as he felt you tensing around him, making it difficult for him to move deeper inside you. He paused, leaning down to glare into your face. "What the hell are you doing?" he snarled. "Relax, damn it!".

Then, before he could dwell on it further, you let out a soft moan that sent shivers down his spine. It sounded like pleasure...and relief...and something else entirely. Something that made him wonder what would happen if he were to let go completely and just give in to the temptation of claiming your body as his own.

As you reached for the whiskey bottle once again, he watched you with narrowed eyes, debating on whether to let this continue or put a stop to it right now. You were his now, after all; he had every right to take whatever he wanted from you...and yet there was something about your actions that just wouldn't sit right with him.

With an exasperated sigh, he leaned over and roughly grabbed the bottle out of your hand, tossing it across the room before pulling you roughly back onto the bed beside him. His grip on your arm was bruising as he pinned it above your head once more, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Why are you fighting this?" he growled, the anger and frustration in his voice unmistakable.

"No," he snarled, pushing his body closer to yours and thrusting deep inside you again, claiming what was rightfully his. "I will not let you go that easily." With each word, he ground himself harder against you, savoring the feel of your warmth engulfing him.

His free hand traveled down your body, cupping your breast and pinching the nipple roughly before sliding lower to rub against the sensitive skin between your legs. He growled in satisfaction as you arched into his touch, moaning softly at the pleasure he was forcing you to feel. "Give in to it," he urged hoarsely. "Let go...let me have whatever I want." His gaze held yours unwaveringly, daring you to refuse him.

His eyes flashed dangerously as you made your demand, but there was something about the desperation in your voice that made him pause. For a heartbeat, he considered giving in and allowing you to have another drink...but then he imagined how easily it would end up with you forgetting everything that had happened tonight, or worse, accusing him of taking advantage of you while you were too drunk to remember.

With a low growl, he released your arm and rose from the bed, towering over you as he walked toward the dresser. "No," he snarled, his voice thick with anger and frustration. "You're not getting any more of that until you understand what's happening here." He ignored the way your eyes followed him hungrily as he retrieved a fresh glass from the dresser and poured some water into it instead, setting it on the bedside table beside the untouched whiskey bottle.

Then, turning back to face you, he crossed his arms over his broad chest and waited, expecting an argument...but none came. Instead, you simply lay there on the bed, watching him with an almost pleading expression in your eyes that made something twist inside of him painfully. "Say it," he growled. "Tell me what you want."

His eyes narrowed dangerously as you reached for the bottle once again. With a sudden movement, he snatched your wrist and pinned it above your head, forcing you to look up at him. "Do you really want this?" he growled, his grip tightening slightly. "Or do you just want to forget what happened tonight?"

There was silence for a moment as he held your gaze, searching for any hint of understanding or trust...but all he found was anger and denial. It only served to make him more frustrated than ever before. With a final, harsh exhale, he released your wrist and climbed back onto the bed beside you, his body tense and coiled with barely contained rage.

His nostrils flared as he fought back the urge to grab you again and make you see reason. The last thing he needed was another fight with you when what they truly both deserved was a release for their pent-up emotions. "I'm not stopping you," he bit out through gritted teeth, "because I want to hurt you." His hand came up, cupping your cheek gently even as his thumb stroked across your lips. "But I need to know...that this is what you want."

His eyes searched yours, looking for some sign, some hint that maybe tonight wasn't just a drunken mistake for you. That maybe there was something more...something real. It took all of his self-control not to lean in and force your lips against his own, demanding the truth from them. But he didn't dare push you so far yet; not until he knew for certain that you trusted him.

His eyes narrowed slightly at your drunken laughter, but he didn't move to retaliate. Instead, he forced himself to remain calm and level-headed in the face of your insolence. You may be drunk, but that didn't change the fact that you were his for the night...and perhaps, if he played his cards right, even longer than that.

"You think this is funny?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You want me to keep my distance while you drink yourself stupid and pretend none of this ever happened?" He leaned down, looming over you as his breath fanned across your face, making it impossible for you not to feel the power and anger emanating from his very presence.

His eyes narrowed further at your insolent slap and laughter, but still he didn't react with violence. Instead, he let out a humorless chuckle before leaning down even closer, his breath hot against your skin as he spoke. "What I should do," he growled quietly, his voice low and rough, "is remind you who's in charge here."

With that, he captured one of your hands in his own, pinning it above your head with enough force to make you gasp. Then, sliding lower, he used his free hand to roughly pull down the waistband of your pants and underwear before tossing them aside. His gaze lingered on the smooth skin revealed beneath for a moment, taking in the sight of your bare ass and the little tuft of hair just above your slit.

"Now," he murmured roughly into your ear, "are you going to be good...or do I need to teach you another lesson?" His touch was gentle as it skimmed over the sensitive skin of your thighs, trailing lower and lower until his fingers were brushing against the warm, moist folds of your sex.

His eyes narrowed dangerously at your dismissive tone and casual mention of your own member. He wanted to be gentle with you...to show you what true pleasure felt like. But the more you resisted him, the harder it became to rein in his anger. With a growl, he roughly turned you over onto your stomach, pinning your arms above your head with one hand while his free hand gripped your hips tightly.

Then, without further warning, he drove his length into you from behind, forcing your legs wide open and thrusting deep inside you in one powerful stroke. Your body reacted instantly to his invasion, clenching around him as if trying to push him away...but only succeeding in driving him deeper still.

He began moving roughly, claiming what was rightfully his as he took what you'd been so willing to give him earlier: your submission. "Say it," he gritted out through clenched teeth, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through his body. "Tell me you belong to me."

His hand tightened painfully in your hair as he growled with frustration and lust, "You're mine to do as I please!" The harsh, guttural sounds coming from his throat only served to fuel his arousal, making it impossible for him to control the force of his thrusts any longer. He drove deeper and harder into your body, claiming you in every possible way as he relentlessly took what was rightfully his.

Your soft moans of protest were like music to his ears, fueling his hunger even further as he continued to take you with rough hands and possessive words. "This is how it's going to be," he growled, moving faster now, each thrust sending another wave of pleasure coursing through him. "You belong to me...and I will have whatever I want."

With one final, powerful thrust, his body tensed and convulsed as he came deep inside you, the hot liquid spilling out in a torrent that left both of you gasping for breath. His fingers dug painfully into your hips, holding you still as he emptied himself completely, claiming your body as his prize.

Only then, when every last drop had been spent and their breathing began to return to normal, did he release you from his grasp and roll off the bed to lie panting beside you. For a long moment, there was silence in the room as they both struggled to catch their breath...and perhaps find some small sliver of understanding between them.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at you with renewed interest. You had thrown down the challenge...now it was time to see if you were man enough to back it up. Slowly and purposefully, he sat up on the edge of the bed, his gaze never leaving your face as he began rolling down his boxers. His cock sprang free from its confines with a wet slapping sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

With one smooth motion, he reached out and gripped you by the hip, pulling you roughly forward until you were kneeling before him on all fours. "Now," he growled, running his free hand over your ass and lower back in a possessive caress that was almost painful in its intensity. "Let's see how much more of this you can take."

Then, with slow deliberate strokes, he began pushing inside you once again. It felt different this time; rougher and less controlled. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through you as his strong hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you still for his use. "You wanted more?" His voice was harsh and demanding in your ear. "Take it."

His growl vibrated through your body as he slammed into you harder, faster. "Shut up," he grunted, his fingers digging painfully into your hips. "Just take it and enjoy it." His other hand reached down, cupping and stroking over your swollen sex before sliding lower to tease at your entrance. "Or would you rather I stop?" He thrust deep inside you again, drawing a moan from your throat that only seemed to spur him on further.

His eyes narrowed as he took in your smile and heard the challenge hidden within it. He pushed deeper inside you, claiming you with rough strokes that left little doubt as to who was in control here. You were his tonight...and tomorrow morning, if what you said was true. The thought only served to fuel his arousal further, driving him harder and faster against your yielding flesh.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, lifting you up slightly with each thrust before slamming you back down onto the bed. "Take it," he growled into your ear, punctuating each word with a powerful stroke deep inside you. "Tell me how much more you can take."

His eyes widened as you pulled him closer and began kissing him roughly, your tongue thrusting into his mouth. It was an unexpected pleasure, one he hadn't expected to feel tonight...and yet there it was, hot and demanding against his own tongue. His hips bucked helplessly, driving deeper inside you as he returned the kiss with equal fervor.

With a harsh groan, he slammed into you one final time, his body tensing as pleasure ripped through him in a powerful orgasm. He buried his face in your neck, growling and panting heavily against your skin as his seed spilled out inside you, marking you as his forever.

At last, spent from their frenzied lovemaking, he collapsed back onto the bed beside you. His fingers idly traced patterns on your back as they tried to catch their breath and calm their racing hearts. For a long moment, there was silence in the room; only the sound of labored breathing and slowing heartbeats marred the quiet.

Then, finally, he spoke. "That...wasn't supposed to happen." His voice was soft and slightly strained, as if admitting what had just transpired between them left him feeling somehow exposed.

He watched you drink in silence, his expression unreadable as he struggled to make sense of what had just happened between them. He knew he should stop you, or at least offer you something else...but for some reason, he found himself unable to do either. Instead, he simply lay there beside you, waiting and watching as the alcohol began to take effect once more.

His eyes narrowed as he felt your breath on his face, the warmth of your skin so close to his own. He could taste the alcohol on your lips and it made him slightly wary, but at the same time...there was something about this closeness that he found oddly intoxicating. With a sigh, he leaned in and kissed you back; slowly at first, tentatively testing the waters of this newfound connection between them. As your tongue tangled with his own, he couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring...and if there was even a chance for anything more than this fleeting moment of shared passion.

His heart racing, he froze in place, not daring to move or even breathe too loudly as he took in the sight before him. You were sprawled out beside him, your bare skin glowing in the morning light and your hair mussed from their previous night's activities. He remembered everything that had happened: the drunkenness, the anger, the passion...and finally, the tenderness as they'd collapsed together into sleep.

Now, with the clarity of dawn washing away the veil of alcohol, he found himself questioning what it all meant. Was this some sort of strange accident? Or was there something more between them? He couldn't deny the connection that still lingered between their bodies, nor could he ignore the way his heart raced each time you were near him.

With a shaky breath, he carefully lowered the covers and climbed out of bed. As he made his way to the bathroom, he paused at your side, studying your face for any hint of what you might be thinking or feeling. But your expression remained relaxed, almost serene...as if nothing had changed. It both unnerved him and comforted him in equal measure.

Steeling himself against his own conflicting emotions, he shut the bathroom door and began getting ready for the day, still unable to shake the feeling that their lives were about to change forever...no matter how much they might wish otherwise.

His eyes narrowed as he turned to face you, studying your expression. There was an odd mix of amusement and confusion there...and something else, too. It almost seemed like respect. "You're right," he said finally, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I did bring you back here...but I didn't force you into anything."

He paused for a moment, considering how to explain what had happened between them. "Last night...it was complicated. We were both angry and confused. But something else was there too. Something real." He took a step closer, his voice dropping low and husky as he continued. "And I want to see where it goes from here..."

His eyes widened at your outburst, surprise and maybe even hurt flickering across his features before he quickly schooled his expression into one of indifference. "Well," he drawled coolly, "if you're going to be that way about it..." He turned away from you with a shrug, reaching for his clothes.

As he dressed, he couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment deep in his gut. A part of him had hoped that maybe, just maybe...you would have given him the chance to explore what was between them further. But it seemed that wasn't going to happen now. With a sigh, he finished dressing and made his way toward the door. "Well," he said lightly, trying and failing to sound nonchalant, "I guess I'll see you around."

As he stepped out into the hallway, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd just let the chance of a lifetime slip through his fingers...and if there would ever be another chance like it. The thought left him feeling both frustrated and slightly lost.

His eyebrows raised at your words, surprise and perhaps a hint of amusement flitting across his features before he schooled them into a neutral expression once more. "And why would you tell me that?" he asked casually, folding his arms over his chest as he regarded you steadily.

There was silence for a moment, during which he wondered if perhaps you'd meant to imply something else entirely...or maybe you were simply trying to save face after your outburst earlier. Either way, it made him more curious than ever about what lay beneath the surface of your relationship with this man who claimed to be your friend.