I walk up to Ava’s door and stand by it, looking over the grooves in the wood.
I couldn’t leave her to cry earlier.
I just couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t be the heartless monster, or keep up this… distancing from her.
I’m still in this state of flux when it comes to her, but I know that keeping her in this room, locked away in this house, is wrong.
I stayed with her for a while and only left when I felt she wanted to be alone.
As I watched her, I got the impression that she was crying for more than Mark. It was the way she was crying that gave it away. It was like that night when I watched her through the cameras and I just knew. It felt like that old pain again.
I just got back from work, and Marguerite told me Ava stayed in her room all day and hasn’t eaten anything. Not a damn thing. Not even the cookies she likes.
It’s the earliest I’ve been home in days. It’s just gone eight. When I started off this charade, I set dinner time for eight so I would eat with her. That hasn’t happened in weeks, and it’s not going to happen today.
I never usually knock on the door, but I do tonight, at least before going in.
She’s sitting by the window again. She looks surprised to see me.
Her eyes fill with it, and her cheeks turn pink.
“You knocked,” she states, standing.
Her eyes are red and her skin blotchy. It’s clear she’s been crying all day.
“Yeah.”
She steels her spine, and there’s a visible determination in her face to shield whatever she feels. It’s a good attempt, but I don’t know if she realizes that her eyes still give her away.
Want and desire are still very much there. It throws me off guard.
I don’t know what she sees when she looks at me. I just pray I’m not as transparent as she is. That Friday when we were together at the club, it was real. It’s fucking real every damn time, and I blame myself for allowing her to feel for me, teasing it out of her then being a prick. There was so much I did wrong.
“Was there something you wanted from me?” she asks.
“You haven’t eaten all day.”
“So?”
I know from the tick in her jaw that she’s in that mood again where she’s being difficult. What she wants is an end date. I’m not there yet though. I’m not at the stage where I can give her one.
When she first got here, I was mad as fuck because it felt like Mark got off too lightly. Now that I’ve been with her, there’s a part of me that’s eager to explore this insane chemistry between us. Both those things are holding me back on telling her when she can go.
“I told you I need you to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
I didn’t come in here to argue about food, and I didn’t come in here to get pissed at her. I have something else to talk to her about. I guess maybe it’s my way of lightening the tension and meeting her somewhere in the middle.
“Suit yourself,” I say, pushing my annoyance away. “You can go to your apartment tomorrow to get some things. Clothes and your computer for work. I’ll have a car ready to take you at nine in the morning.”
First, she looks surprised, then the guarded look returns to her eyes.
“Thank you.”
I turn to leave thinking it best. The last time I had sex with her I was a bastard. I can’t be in the same room with her for too long without wanting to strip her naked and fuck her. I don’t know if going to that place tonight will be good for either of us.
“Is that all? Doesn’t my master require the services of his whore today?” she calls out, and I freeze mid-step.
I turn back to face her. Although she’s standing tall and defiant, her hands are by her sides, shaking.
“Ava…”
“I was just checking to be sure.”
I totally deserve that.
I walk closer to her, and fear comes back into her eyes. She’s afraid of me, definitely afraid of me, and she probably thinks I’m going to do shit to her for smart-mouthing me.
I take another step. I’m too close, so she steps back. Another step forward, and she takes one backward. She’s right back against the wall now, and the quick rise and fall of her chest shows how panicked she is.
I allow instinct to guide me, mentally screwing the fucking worries and flux I’m in with her.
I am too close, and now I’m trapped in this space with her. So trapped arousal knifes through me, splintering the guard I placed over my heart. Need and greed want me to take her. Take her the way I did last Friday. Take her like she’s mine.
She is mine, so I reach for her. Slipping my hand behind her head, I bring her to my lips. Straight to my lips, where I claim her mouth.
At first, she’s still tense and uncertain. She holds back, so I pull away and look into her eyes. They’re glassy and brimming with tears. What I want is for her to look at me and see that I want her. I want that wild connection we had before.
A flicker of light sparks in her eyes the longer I stare.
Good. It’s back… she‘s back.
I press my lips to hers again, and this time when she kisses me, it’s with that unyielding desire.
My body remembers hers and wants to touch her everywhere.
The wild kiss turns hungry as I press into her head and harden the kiss, delving deeper.
She starts pulling at my shirt with both hands. It’s like greed has possessed her. It comes for me too.
I allow her the second it takes to pull my shirt over my head. Our lips barely leaving each other.
Since she’s wearing a little dress, I pull that down her shoulders and practically rip off her bra.
Her long legs wrap around me when I pick her up and carry her to the bed. I settle her down in the center, take off the rest of my clothes then her panties.
Her long arms slip around my neck when I climb onto the bed to take her.
While she kisses me, I part her legs and guide my cock into her slick, wet opening. She’s ready for me, always ready for me.
Her lips part slightly over mine when I start to move inside her. I adjust myself so that I’m on top of her, so I can fuck her properly and kiss her at the same time. It’s hot like hell. Our movements are filled with passion and need. It’s no longer a simple matter of want.
I’m touching her like I need her, and she’s holding on to me and kissing me like she needs me too.
I pump deep and hard, and her moans of ecstasy drive me wild. I know I won’t last. Not like this. It’s too much. Again. It’s all too much and too intense.
We are.
We’re at that point where we’re so far over the line I don’t know where it is anymore, or where it was.
We come at the same time, surrendering to pleasure, relinquishing everything. That’s what it feels like for both of us.
I try to catch my breath after, and she holds on to my shoulders. Her delicate fingers brush over my skin, heating me up when I’m already alight.
As our breathing stills, worry floods her beautiful eyes. That look of what next is written all over her face. She looks away from me turning her head to avoid my stare.
“You aren’t anybody’s whore,” I whisper, and she looks back to me. “You aren’t anybody’s whore. You hear me?”
A tear slides down her soft cheek. Briefly, I press my face to hers, taking the wetness of her tears.
As I hold her, I feel it. There’s something about her that I feel I can’t put my finger on. When her fingers flutter over my chest, I focus on her again although she doesn’t say anything.
I see that pain in her eyes though.
“What is it, baby? What… hurt you before me?” I ask.
When she shakes her head and another tear makes its way down her silky skin, I know I’m right.
Something happened to her. Something bad.
I just know, so I hold her.