Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Ava scowls, though it’s playful, and relents with the interrogation—thank God—serving up the chicken. It smells divine, and I’m suddenly starving. And desperate to move the conversation along. I load my fork and dive right in, humming my approval. “How was your day with your brother?” How long do I have to share her with him? I remember Ava mentioning he was living the dream in Australia. Good. So he’ll be fucking off to continue living the dream very soon.
“Fine.” She joins me at the island and starts working her way through her food.
“Just fine?” I ask. “This is really good.”
She smiles, though it’s light. “We had a great day. We did Madame Tussauds and went to dinner at our favorite Chinese.”
“Tussauds?”
“Yeah, it’s our thing.” She sounds almost embarrassed, studying her chicken as she cuts through it.
“It’s nice to have a thing.” If Jake were still alive, what would be our thing? I smile on the inside. Superbikes. That would be our thing. We didn’t have a chance to have our thing. I swallow, flexing my aching hand. “You’ve eaten already?” I ask, and Ava stalls from shoveling another forkful in. “Are you eating for two?” I’m testing the waters on that front again, looking up at her. Her eyes bulge. She’s definitely never considered motherhood.
“No,” she says, before chewing and swallowing. “Stop worrying.”
Worrying? Of all the things I have to be worried about, that isn’t one of them. Nowhere close. Could she be? Because I sure as shit have never known her to tuck away food so ravenously, like she’s not eaten for days. Her period came last week. Not pregnant.
So, again, am I broken? I ponder that while I hum and moan my way through the rest of my dinner, just so she knows how much I’m enjoying it. Enjoying this. Her here, me here, no one else here. How many pills did she miss? Perhaps none, because new packs kept appearing, so she obviously had reserves. Anyone would think she’s passionate about not having kids. Again, I wouldn’t know, since we haven’t had that conversation. My eyes naturally drop to her stomach, my teeth going to town on my lip as I set my knife and fork down, watching her as she starts to clean up, fascinated by how at home she is. I feel content. Until I catch signs of her back getting straighter by the second as if she’s building herself up to something. The questions are gaining momentum again in her mind. I slide off my stool and walk quietly across the kitchen where she’s wiping down the worktop, and she turns around, inhaling, ready to fire her questions—
And bounces off my chest. “Oh!”
“Lose the sweatshirt.”
She peeks up at me, and I ensure she sees nothing but sheer grit. I’ve indulged her. Let her feed me. It’s been nice, enjoyable, but nothing takes me to the clouds like being physically close to her, and I absolutely cannot take any more interrogations today.
Without question or hesitation, she pulls the sweater off, and I inhale subtly as I drink her in, radiating coolness but falling to pieces on the inside. “You’re impossibly beautiful,” I whisper over the lump of appreciation in my throat. “And all mine.” I drop to my knees, taking her lacy knickers and dragging them down as I go, tapping a foot in turn for her to lift. I can smell her arousal. Smell her need.
Smell her love.
I look up at her. “I think I’ll let you come first. Then I’m going to rip you clean in half.”
She gulps as I stroke up the backs of her legs, her chest pulsing. My mouth is watering, the sustenance I truly need to survive within licking distance. My fingertips kneed the backs of her thighs, my tongue darting out, licking my lips, before I pull her forward and dive into her welcoming pussy, kissing her there deeply and ravenously.
“Oh shit.” She sinks her hands into my hair, pushing me farther into her, encouraging me, every bit of her trembling against my lips and tongue.
“Mouth,” I warn, giving her no respite, sucking her hard in between firm rolls of my tongue. I introduce a finger, just one finger, inserting it slowly, feeling every inch of her hot walls draw it deeper, hearing her whimper. “Tell me when, Ava.” Another finger. I suck air through my teeth, feeling her throbbing against my tongue.
“That’s it.” Her hips push forward, applying pressure, and she comes against me on a mumble of a few inaudible words, shaking like a leaf, heaving violently. I smile against her flesh, holding her snug to my mouth, slowing my swirling motions and slipping my fingers free, her muscles defiantly resisting.
“You’re too good,” she pants, and I peek up, gently thrusting, easing her down.
I free her from the pleasure of my mouth and slowly rise, nibbling my way over her chest as I pass. “I know. Aren’t you lucky?” I lift her to my front. “Are you ready to be fucked good and proper, baby?”