Sex, Lace and Tiaras → Lashton

Fifteen;

When I woke up, I ignored my phone, not wanting to relive what happened between me and Ashton last night. I was still shocked at what I had done, how vulgar I had been. I never thought I'd do that and I especially never thought I'd do that with someone as Godly as Ashton.

It wasn't his looks that made me like him, it was the little things. The warm feeling of security I felt when his arms folded around me like wings. His enthralling hazel eyes that captivated my thoughts every time we caught the other staring. The low whisper of him humming his own songs in my ear as a lullaby. His heart-melting smile, his taut back muscles that give me piggy-back rides whenever I ask for them, his body heat that radiated off of him like a campfire, keeping me warm on my coldest nights.

I could physically feel myself falling more and more for him, and it scared me. Did he feel the same way? Did he see me as just a young fuck? Did our kisses mean as much to him as they did to me? Our midnight meetings? Was I just another way to pass the time?

I'd always felt the need to know everything. Not in a know-it-all way, more like I was just curious. Curious about the world around me. And now I was curious about how Ashton felt. A fire started within me and the only way to put it out was to know what Ashton thought we were. My curiosity fuelled it.

I rolled out of bed, landing delicately on the balls of my feet, like a cat. Striding purposefully towards the basket full of clean washing on my dresser, I pulled together the cutest outfit I could manage on a Saturday morning; a white crop top with the phrase "treat me like a bitch and i'll slay you like one" sewn onto the breast pocket and black leggings.

I couldn't hear Jack's angry music or mum yelling at Ben so I knew the house was empty, which was strange for a Saturday. Usually I would have one of my brothers running into my room and jumping on me to wake me up by now.

Fluffing up my hair and slipping my feet into my favourite pair of grey ankle boots, I left the empty house with the sole intent on talking to Ashton. Not wanting to ruin my new boots, I took the concrete path that connected my front door to Ashton's and knocked confidently on the door.

A young girl, thirteen-looking opened. I knew I'd never met her and she didn't look familiar, but those hazel eyes were the carbon-copy of his.

"Hello?" She asked, sounding bored.

"Yeah, um, hi. Is Ashton home?"

"It's Saturday? And like, 10 am? Of course he's home? He's sleeping?"

"Oh. Do you think I could come in and talk to him?"

"If you wake him up he'll kill you?"

Was phrasing everything like a question a teenage girl thing or an Ashton's sister thing? I didn't get the time to find out before she pulled me in by the front of my shirt.

"It's your funeral? His room is up the stairs and at the end? Cute shirt by the way?"

"Um, thanks?" I hurried up the stairs, following her directions. I passed Ashton's siblings doors and saw that Ashton's sister's name is Lauren from the sign hanging from her door. Once I got to Ashton's room I didn't even hesitate before turning the handle.

The first thing my eyes instantly flashed to was the window, where the blinds were wide open, allowing sunlight to pour into the room. I wasn't sure how the vivid solar light hadn't already woken him up. With that thought, I looked to Ashton, seeing him lying peacefully on his stomach, soft snores escaping his nose.

Quickly taking my shoes off and making sure to close the door behind me in case of any snooping younger siblings, I moved to straddle Ashton's perfect back. He was shirtless and he didn't move an inch from the newly found weight on his torso.

My hands ghosted over his toned back before settling on his shoulders, gently rubbing them. I leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"Ashton. Guess who's here to see you."

"Lauren, kindly fuck the fuck off," he grumbled sleepily.

I giggled, kissing the back of his neck. "No, silly, it's me. Luke."

I couldn't quite see his face from the angle I was on but I could definitely make out the smile that took over his features as his eyes stayed closed. Damn it, I wanted to see his pretty hazel eyes.

"Hello, princess. This is a nice way to wake up."

I hummed in response, letting my long nails scratch down his back lightly before digging the palm of my hand into his back, trying to make him feel good. By the sounds of his moans, he liked it.

By this point I'd forgotten why I came here in the first place. It seemed like my only reason to exist was to be beside Ashton. Not for him to flaunt me off like a trophy-wife, but because he completed me. I no longer felt like a broken puzzle piece. I'd found my match.

"Why are you here, baby?" Ashton asked, causing my train of thought to crash and burn as I continued massaging his back.

"You try'na tell me to leave?"

"Never, not with those little hands of yours. Feels so good, Lukey."

One thing I hated about Ashton was his canny ability to make me blush at the drop of a hat. He could simply say my name and I'd turn a bright berry colour. It was especially worse now with his husky morning voice talking to me like I was something precious.

"Stop it," I whined. "Your family is going to think we're... doing stuff."

Ashton smirked. "What kind of stuff?"

"Naughty stuff," I whispered. I loved this, messing around with Ashton as we bantered. Loved having my skin on his, seeing the contrast in skin tone. Loved his moans and his messy hair and his lips when he smirked.

"You don't do naughty stuff, do you baby? You a good boy?"

I knew what he was hinting at, what he wanted to hear. I could still feel the remaining heat on my cheeks from mere minutes ago, but the blush returned. Mentally cursing myself for so easily turning into a mess at his hands, I pause in my massaging and duck my head down to right beside Ashton's ear.

"I'm a good boy. Good boy for you, daddy."

::

Long-ish chapter because I feel bad about not updating in ages hehe XD