Ceaseless Chains Copyright © 2020 xXMopelXx All Rights Reserved.

Chapter posted - September 24, 2020

 Enjoy this chapter and the aesthetics <3 I would also like to give a huge thank you to Mita, who helped bring Teagan's character much more accuracy and authenticity. Some words in the chapters are from Farsi, a soft, beautiful sounding language. 

Playlist Song: Sabrina Claudio - Naked

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C H A P T E R 13

Teagan

            Every time I thought I figured out men, I was hit with a new curveball. Exhibit in question? Oliver Abhay Ashford.

I'd never met someone whose moods swung so haywire. I'd never met someone who set me alight with just a mere touch, then retreated away like ice cold water had splashed over our libidos.

Last night had been a revelation of sorts. I'd felt so safe and content in his car, huddled close to him and just talking. Talking about anything and everything. He'd opened up to me, but not in all the ways that mattered. We spoke about our past – certain moments – but he'd danced around the important subject of the last four years. Education. Relationships. And so on.

I was surprised at how much I wanted to know – how much I longed to unravel him.

I was not surprised to see that same need in him when it came to me.

Oliver could never resist a good challenge. Not when we were kids and certainly not now, if the heat in his eyes and the way he touched me was any thing to go by.

A good mystery? It got his blood boiling. It gave him drive. Shoot, it probably gave him a boner from all the excitement.

All I knew was that I needed to keep my cards well hidden. I wanted to mend our friendship and let him inside my world. I wished to learn everything about this new cocksure, sensual, playful, I-don't-take-your-shit version of him.

But some of the moments tainting my past were too rotten to uncover, and I feared it would alter the way he saw me forever. I couldn't allow that. Not when we'd finally found common ground.

...A common ground where we enjoyed each other's company and where Oliver thought it was okay to caress the skin of my back like I wasn't a female in my prime with raging hormones, locked in the vicinity with a male of high-caliber.

Last night, Oli left me in a fucking mess. I couldn't remember the last time someone had touched my skin in a way that wasn't platonic. His fingers hovered over my piercings and I could just imagine the feel of his rough calluses against my spine.

My vagina rose from its slumber and reminded me just how much I'd neglected it. Just how much I needed relief. How much I needed to be filled, to be pleasured, to be brought downright to earth-shattering orgasm.

And Lord knew there was only one person available to get the job done. Thanks to my vow of celibacy. Me.

So, like a self-loving, modern woman, I'd stripped off every piece of clothing and fucked myself until I came so violently that I felt transported to another realm.

Unfortunately, my hand wasn't the only one who brought me there. So had the visual of my ex-best friend – Oliver, the depiction of Himeros in my mind, my real-life God of uncontrollable desire. That's what he evoked inside of me: desire that could not be controlled. Every time my gaze clashed with his, I instantly felt needy. I felt urges inexplicable to me with just one haughty glance from him. With just one hot, squirming, I'll-feel-like-heaven-between-your-legs look. It made me want him to punish me for allowing myself to think of him this way. So raw and nasty. It made me want to punish him for doing that to me. For feeling this much desire when no man had held this much fascination in so long.

And I did punish him. In my mind. God, I'd done him dirty. When I thought of him blindfolded, I pumped my fingers deeper, circled my clit faster, and bit my lip harder. At my disposal for any thing I wished to inflict upon him. Begging me in a pleasure-roughened voice to touch him, make him feel better. I thought of that deep baritone going hoarse as I worked his lap, edging him, getting him so close but not giving him the chance to go until I did. I thought of every filthy fantasy I'd had in the past – candle wax play, role-play, orgasm denial – and Oliver was the porn star starring in all of them last night.

When I came, more intensely than ever before in my life, my shame and racing heart chose to blame my actions on the chocolate martini I drank. Not on the fact that my ex-best friend was hotter than hell and expelled enough who's-your-daddy energy to set all my silk sheets aflame.

Oliver Abhay Ashford was dangerous for my mental health and, admittedly, my pussy.

She couldn't start craving him. Not now. Not when I needed to wrench away from my strange fixation on him and make this arrangement work between us. I wanted this place more than I wanted him and that was a fact. I wasn't one to act on impulse, and I wouldn't start now.

Not even if Oliver's body was all sculpted muscles and gorgeous tattooed skin. Even if he fucked as good as he looked – because let's be honest, that body looked like it was honed for pleasuring a woman. For hours. Even if those cheeky smiles and mischievous eyes broke down barriers I'd spent four years building.

Nothing would deter my resolve.

I needed a roof over my head, a plan for my future, and maybe even the friendship of my ex-best friend to help me move forward in life.

Nothing more.

So I was squandering this strange bout of lust burning for Oliver. We were friends and that's that. Of course, I would never deny his sexual appeal because goddammit, I'd never seen a guy who oozed sexiness as casually as this hunk. But it didn't mean I had to act on it. I would acknowledge it (how could I not when I lived with him), but my pussy and my mind's conjured up Oliver (aka my personal Greek God Himeros) would no longer have any rendezvous.

I was going to ask Tara for a full list of vibrators and dildos – complete with her reviews – and slake my hunger this way until the end of June. Until this damn vow was over. Then I could find someone interested in engaging in casual, no holds barred, fuck-me-silly sex to quench my desires.

* * *

Oliver acted weird this morning, but I chose to ignore it. I was bringing our scale back to balance. Yet it almost felt like he knew I'd lain in bed, fingering myself to the thought of him. I chided myself because I knew that was impossible. There's no way he'd heard me. Right?

Right.

He'd avoided my eye all through breakfast the same way you'd avoid a bad ex-girlfriend. I chalked it up to last night, when he'd helped me out of my dress. Maybe he'd just felt weird undressing me. But honestly? He offered. So he could suck it.

The sound of jangling keys and the door creeping open resonated through the kitchen, where I stood by the stovetop, cooking butter chicken from Aayana's infamous recipe book. I found it endearing that Oliver kept his mother's handwritten cookbook. He'd laminated it, storing it in a separate drawer of its own.

I didn't think he'd be mad that I'd rifled through it. It was left there for a reason. I figured tonight we could have dinner in her honor. I wondered how she'd react if she were here today, seeing me and her two beloved sons eating a meal she'd prepared for us countlessly growing up. Probably beam and tell me I didn't put enough of this or that.

I was smiling when Grayson and Oliver's footsteps hit the kitchen, which was suffused with the savory smell of cream, butter, tomatoes and spices. I put my wooden spoon on a rest and turned around, seeing Oliver and his mini-me. Grayson was a carbon copy of him.

"Prem!" I opened my arms with a huge grin.

Grayson, all grown up in his lanky figure and young adolescent features, smiled wide and unrestrained, with a hint of sheepishness, before plowing into me, wrapping his arms like vines around my waist. "Hi, Teagan."

Jesus. Not only had he grown tall, but his voice had morphed completely from that small, shy boy lilt to a husky cracking one. I rocked us for a beat, my heart once again filling with more belongingness. I'd loved Grayson like a little brother, especially because he was the same exact age as my little sister Mina. They grew up together the same way Oliver and I had.

While Mina was a little spitfire and center of attention, Grayson was content being the reserved, lone wolf. I held his face in my hands, still soft and not marred with the hints of teenagehood, and smacked a loud one on his forehead. "I've missed you, my little bean."

He blushed. "I've missed you too. Thanks for coming back home."

Aw, God. I hugged him even tighter. "It's good to be back home."

My eyes met Oliver's over Grayson's head and the look he was sporting in his eyes could only be described as tenderness. There was a bouquet of purple flowers in his hands, for me I knew. It caused my own heart to swell in tenderness.

I knew without a shadow of doubt that if Aayana were alive today, she'd be filled with affection at seeing us all together once again.

Oliver's mouth quirked up as our eyes stayed locked together.

Belonging. It magnified in my chest.

* * *

I thought I'd made enough butter chicken, white rice, and salad to feed a whole football team. Or, at the very least, last us as leftovers for the upcoming days. I completely displaced the notion that Grayson was a growing teenage boy who could eat for two, and that Oliver was, in fact, a grown man who would eat for two, maybe even three.

That's exactly what they had done. Grayson had stopped after a second plate, claiming that his rectum was going to suffer tomorrow morning. And no air freshener would stop Grandma Ruth and Grandpa Brian from fainting if they got a whiff of that. I'd burst out laughing, Oliver had rolled his eyes and smacked his little brother on the back of the head, and Grayson had looked pleased with himself.

Actually, he just looked overall pleased to be around his brother. I didn't miss the way he cast him glances of unabashed hero-worship.

None of the previous mentioned sadness was prevalent in Grayson's demeanor. It's like being around his brother siphoned all of that out. If truth be told, he smiled so much tonight that his cheeks seemed carved permanently that way.

After dessert, we grabbed beers (but juice exclusively for Grayson) and migrated to the living room. Some murder show was playing on Netflix in the background and Oli was paying half-assed attention to it as he completed a puzzle. A three-hundred piece puzzle that he was freakishly close to finishing. I guessed Oliver was still a puzzle and Rubik's cube fanatic.

A mystery solving one too. His gaze kept wandering to the TV and we all placed bets on who killed the rich banker. I thought it was the ex-girlfriend. Grayson said was the baby-sitter. Oliver said it was the elder couple living in the servants quarter – the banker's great aunt and uncle – who were responsible of the estate's upkeep. By the season finale, Grayson and I were both shockingly baffled that he'd been right, along with his theory of how they'd killed the banker.

"How did you guess that?" I asked him, playing speed with Grayson on the coffee table. We flipped and threw cards quickly onto the piles, trying to one up each other.

Oliver barely shrugged, his tongue poking out as he finished the puzzle from his position on the floor. "It was easy. The clues were there."

"Um. No, they weren't. All evidence pointed at the ex-girlfriend." She was a hysterical mess after her rich banker boyfriend had broken up with her, harboring a collection of fancy but scary knives in her basement. It was clear that she'd been the one who wanted to stab her boyfriend for breaking her heart.

"Or the babysitter," Grayson quipped. "She was brought in for questioning."

She was a decent suspect. She came in everyday to babysit the Banker's illegitimate baby daughter and she had a fixation with her boss. It was clear she wanted to fuck him, and she was jealous of his ex-girlfriend. Grayson thought she'd killed him for not fucking her.

Didn't know where the logic was at with that one.

Oliver tsked at us. "But if you looked closely between the lines, it was obvious. The couple cleaned his mansion everyday; they knew of his habits and schedule. They were his family but were treated like shit. They were greedy and falsely led to believe they held a place in his will. They were eager to collect the money. And, even if there was no money involved, killing him would have satisfied their violent tendencies because he was an ass to them," he said, adding, "They had every nook and cranny of that mansion memorized. They could kill him, and hide the evidence, just as they'd done. Dug a hole in the lawn, shoved his body parts in a trunk, covered the grave, then decorated it with potted plants. Unsuspected. Lying dead under a bed of flowers. At the end of the day, no one would have suspected two frail sixty-five-year olds of such a heinous crime."

Grayson and I gawked at Oliver because that's exactly what had happened.

"You figured all of that out before it was revealed?" Grayson demanded, mouth hanging open.

It's worth mentioning that the authorities in the show hadn't been able to solve it. The great aunt and uncle got away with the murder and the audience got flashback scenes of how the crime was committed.

"Yep." Oliver popped the word, emphasizing the P. He seemed so unfazed by our amazement. The worst part was, I wasn't surprised. Oliver's mind had always been wired this way – a step above others and extremely cunning.

There was a reason why no one ever wanted to watch mystery movies and thrillers with Oliver growing up, because he'd always solved them before we got to the climax. As teens, it had been annoying. As adults? It was fascinating.

"It always worried me how you were so good at solving murders." I chuckled. "You'd probably be amazing at committing them too."

"Yes, Teagan," Oliver said drily. "I'm plotting the demise of every person who's done me dirty. I lay awake every night fantasizing the numerous ways I could stab someone and get away with it."

"Wonderful," I threw back in the same tone. "Ever considered becoming a detective?"

Oliver didn't say anything, just shifted uncomfortably on the floor. His eyebrows knitted together as he placed the final puzzle piece. I checked the clock – under an hour and thirty minutes. PS: the puzzle was an abstract of blue, black and pink colors. Nothing simple at all. What a fucking psycho.

"Or any career in law enforcement?" I prodded further. Grayson was about to win this round of speed and I wasn't above going easy on a kid because he was younger. Fuck it, I wanted to win. Oliver bested me at the show's plot twist. I wasn't about to lose against both Ashford boys in one night.

"I dunno," he murmured.

"There's got to be something you want to do with your life," I returned. I knew Oliver hadn't been in school for awhile, but I figured it was because he needed a push. His situation wasn't like mine; I'd practically been chased out of Boston.

Not that I was complaining. I could use a few months of T.O.

But maybe Oliver needed to see a counsellor to figure out what he wanted to do? We never discussed if he'd go back to school anytime soon because it hadn't been my business but shit, Oliver was a brainiac. Even more than Jared. He wasn't going to waste away his life working for the likes of Mickey Alvarez.

Was he?

I'd hoped not.

Grayson slapped the deck and won. Shit. When he grinned, he looked so much like a young Oliver, I was taken aback a few years. They shared the same dark hair and cheeky gleam in their eyes, but Grayson's face was less chiseled than Oliver's had been at his age. His older brother's eye color was also lighter. Gray's dark browns were courtesy of his late father.

"I feel like you've always had a knack for that kind of stuff. You should consider it," I told Oliver, trying to help him out. Jared and Trent once mentioned that Oliver dropped biology because his heart wasn't in it. He just needed another career path. "You've always been competitive. You don't rest until you've solved whatever it is you've set your eyes on. You read too many crime and thrillers novels. Obviously, this gives you life."

Oliver glared icily at me, chilling me down to my soul. "Drop it, Teagan. My grandfather is always on my case about figuring out my shit; I don't need you to do the same."

My mouth dropped open. What the hell?

His callousness surprised me. He got up from the floor, dusted himself off, and grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the coffee table – the ones I'd bought for him from the grocery store, fuck you very much – and stormed into the balcony for a smoke.

I tried not to let his mantrum affect my mood, but it did. Grayson noticed because he levelled me a crooked grin and reached for my hand. "Don't take it personally, Teagan."

"I'm not." I was.

"My grandfather... He's not nice to Oli. Every week, he demands Oliver figure out what he wants out of life, go back to school and make something of himself. He never recognizes the struggles and sacrifices my brother has made for us. He never admires how much he's accomplished. He throws his failure – dropping out of school – and ex-girlfriend in his face all the time. It really hurts, Oli," Grayson finished with a sigh.

I didn't know that.

And I probably shouldn't have hassled him without knowing the full story, even if my intentions were in the right place.

"Gray, I had no idea." I shook my head. In my defense, I didn't know this was a touchy subject. I would have never broached it.

Whatever we'd pacified between us in the last hours was once again ruined. Oliver was brooding, destroying his lungs out on the balcony to tame his anger towards me and probably the world.

I didn't like that. My gaze raked over his silhouette. His back was to us, but I could see the frustration in his body as he tugged a hand through his hair.

Oliver was young so he had time to figure out his future. No one should be on his case, least of all me. I wasn't in any position to give anyone advice on schooling, ironically.

If it weren't for Mason Sullivan – the devil's spawn – and his jock friends, I'd probably still be sitting in an econ class, inching closer to completing my bachelor's degree. Then I'd be gearing up for an MBA with Harvard. But in retrospect? I didn't think I'd be satisfied with what I'd be doing. The appeal had always been going to Harvard, but there was nothing stimulating about economics. For me, at least. My grades were stellar, but what was the point investing yourself towards a degree when your passion wasn't in it?

I had yet to find my passion.

In some ways, Oliver and I seemed to be in the same boat.

Grayson was growing pensive, staring at my face like he was recognizing something in me. Too much like his brother. I changed the subject quickly. "How's Mina doing?"

He shrugged his bony shoulders, slurping his juice with a vengeance. Buying time. "I don't know. What do you mean? I don't talk to her," he said swiftly, way too curtly.

Well, that's not the answer I expected. Mina and Gray used to be tight, like Oliver and me. "How come?"

He nearly grumbled, "I'm not cool enough for her. She hangs out with the popular crew at school. I'm obviously not that."

My shoulders sagged with my sudden crestfallenness. If I offered any comfort to Grayson right now, he'd get embarrassed in typical teenage boy fashion and I didn't want to deal with two Ashford mantrums in twenty-four hours. No thank you.

Therefore, my mouth clamped shut regarding the subject of my sister. Obviously, life hadn't just happened to me, but it had happened to our siblings. People changed. They had too.

Half an hour later, Oliver stomped back in, barking at Grayson that it was time to drive him home. Grayson looked like he'd rather shoot himself with a paintball gun than go back to his grandparents' home.

"Thank you for dinner, Teagan," he mumbled shyly by the entrance door after he put his shoes on. Oliver was already across the hallway outside our place, making an impatient noise under his breath.

"You're welcome, honey. Come back soon, okay?" I went to hug him, but Gray had other plans. He wrapped his arms around me and stole a kiss. Luckily, it landed on my cheek. Such a nice, chivalrous gentleman. His older brother could take pointers.

"I will." So mischievous.

It's worth noting that Oliver didn't say anything to me or look my way. It was past 10 pm on a Sunday night and none of us worked early tomorrow. As far as I was concerned, he could have other plans afterwards.

I didn't pry if he was coming home right away.

Instead, after they left, I went to pour myself a glass of wine. Another one. A third. Until I passed tipsyland and bordered near drunkish.

Taking my phone to the sofa in the living room, I typed my sister a text message. Over the last four years, keeping in touch was hard. She'd created a Facebook discretely under my supervision two years ago – I know shame on me she was under the age of 13 back then – without my parents knowing. I was her only friend, until she started high school this year and my parents authorized her to stay in touch with her peers. She also got a smartphone for her 13th birthday so now we could text. Also, discreetly. We made sure to delete our conversations right away, so my parents didn't find out I was in touch with her. Fuck them. I couldn't see her physically, but I would take this.

Mina, why don't you talk to Grayson anymore? – Teagan

OMG, Teagan!! <3 <3 Hi!! Um, he's weird. How do you know I don't talk to him anymore? :O – Mina

My sister was big on her use of emojis. But that's not what had me frowning. Grayson was not weird. He was reserved and shy. If this were some popularity bullshit, I'd rip her a new one. Older sister style.

Mina knew I'd recently moved in with Oliver, but I explained to her that I had dinner with both guys tonight and Grayson told me the truth.

I can't believe he got to see you before I did ☹ This sucks. When can I see you? It's been soooooooo long. I miss you. </3 - Mina

I don't know, eshgham. But in the meantime, promise me you'll be kind to Grayson. He's a good kid and you guys are friends. – Teagan

I waited for a bit but my sister didn't answer. It took her ten minutes and I realized it was because she was ignoring me and snapchatting me selfies of herself instead. Kids these days.

Grayson likes my friend Leona. Leona likes him 2 (puke face emoji)!! He started ignoring me first, so I stopped talking to him. At first it was to teach him a lesson... Now, idk, he stopped caring. I promise I'll be kind if he ever speaks to me, but that won't happen anytime soon. – Mina

This was again not the reply I expected. And I knew they were just thirteen-years old, but this whole situation rubbed me wrong and reminded me of Cher, Rose and Trent in high school. A whole damn headache. I don't know why, but something in my stomach sank.

But I was basically drunk, so what the fuck did I know?

Do you like Grayson, Min? – Teagan

It took her forever to answer me. Like she was getting ready to lie.

Ew. No. Gross, Tee!! – Mina.

Alright. Go to bed. I love you. – Teagan

Man bishtar doostet daram <3 – Mina

I love you more, my silly sister said. I smiled. I was there when she was born, I raised her alongside my mom and the nannies, changing her diapers and feeding her. I loved her more.

I knocked out cold on the couch sometime after my fourth glass of wine.

I don't know when Oliver got home.

But I suddenly had a dream of being carried through crashing waves, under a thunderstruck, dark sky, in the arms of my very own Himeros. 

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed your weekly dose of #Oligan! Teagan touched herself to the thought of Oli? Femdom energy? All those kinky fantasies lmao?! Oliver's knack for solving mysteries? Grayson and Mina? I know, I know, another ship!! Overall thoughts on this? x

eshgham = my love
Man bishtar doostet daram  = I love you more

Twitter: MajestyMarzy

Instagram: queenmxrzy 

Chapter goal: 450? x