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She smiles, and I absolutely do not know what to make of it, before she faces Marcus, Paco, Tim, and Marina. All exhibitionists, all city traders, all brash. And as if backing up my silent assessment, Marina, sprawled out on a fur blanket, eyes me, licks her lips, and I shake my head, laughing under my breath. Her eyes are inviting me. Her body is inviting me.
They all move in, her worshippers, and start pleasuring her, themselves, the audience. I press my lips together, leaning back on my heels, looking down at Ava, but quickly look away when she catches me observing her. This is strangely fascinating, seeing her react like this to something she apparently has an aversion to. Which circles me round to her disgust again.All for me. I split my attention between Ava and the scene, just to see what she’s seeing. Marina’s eyes catch mine often, and each time, I pull Ava closer. A message. Problem is, women around here are as bold as women can come. They know what they want and are not afraid to express that.
Things begin to get urgent between the group, and as Marina’s visibly starts to tense, I feel Ava tensing too.
Marina is kissed, licked, sucked, every part of her body being subjected to some kind of touch, and she’s out of her mind, fighting the bonds. She comes hard, and I can feel everyone holding their breath with her and releasing it when she explodes. Except me. And Ava. I smile to myself. But my smile waivers when a small frown worries its way onto Ava’s forehead and she glances around the room. It’s one of the only times I’ve known exactly what’s running through her mind, and I suppose it was inevitable if I was going to bring her in here. And, really, one of the reasons I did.
This is not Ava. I get her attention, and she gazes up at me as I take her hands and face her. “You’re not an exhibitionist, Ava,” I say, nodding to the various naked people surrounding us. “And I love you all the more for it. You are mine and mine only, and I am only yours. Do you understand me?”
Her lip wobbles a fraction, emotion getting the better of her, but it means so much too. It means she’s as mad about me as I am about her. It means she is as passionate about exclusiveness as I am. Possessive. Protective. I just wish neither of us had previous lovers, boyfriends, fucks. I wish there was no need for possessiveness. I wish we were both invisible to the entire world except each other.
I pull her into me, hugging her, not only because I need her close, but because I don’t want her seeing the anguish on my face. “Fucking hell.”Get a grip, Ward.“I can’t tell you how much I love you.” I bury my face in her hair and get a solid hit of Ava to see me through the next...few seconds? “Come on, I want to dance with you.” Do something relatively normal, like normal couples do, even though we’re far from normal. I lean down, face close, and her head retracts. “I bet if I checked, you’d be wet.” Her lips press together, holding back a confirmation. She’s embarrassed. “Only for me.” Biting her lip, she looks back again, eager for more, just as Marina is flipped onto all fours and pounded into by Paco while Tim rams his cock into her mouth. Ah. Foreplay is over. I tug Ava’s hand—she doesn’t need to see what’s coming—but she’s unmoving, and I wince when Marcus shoves a larger than average butt plug into Marina’s arse. The worshipping’s over. Now, she’s an object. Now, it’s raw, carnal fucking, and there will be no holding back. Marina’s had her release. It’s the men’s turn. All three of them.
I look down at Ava, cringing when I see the horror and disgust has returned. “Come on, you’ve seen enough.” Get me the fuck out of here before she asks exactly what I know she’s going to ask. Dance with her. Remind her that what we just left behind is not what I want anymore. It didn’t turn me on before, it doesn’t now. All I’ve ever seen when I’ve walked the rooms of The Manor is opportunity. I’ve never looked at any of the women and been turned on, although they undoubtedly thought I was when I regarded them with hungry eyes. The hunger was for the escape, not for their bodies.
“Jesse?” Ava says as I pull her out of the communal room, her voice small and nervous.
I close my eyes, breathing in, gathering myself, telling her not to go there. Once again, I’m regretting my moves. I thought bringing her in here wouldn’t only kill her curiosity but also enforce my feelings toward her. I never intended for her to feel inadequate. I don’t want to hear her tell me that she can’t give me this. I don’twantthis. “I just need you.”
“Have—”
“I said, don’t.” I walk on but stop abruptly when a pair of familiar tits block my path.For fuck’s sake.
“You’re a bit overdressed, Jesse,” Natasha says, looking me up and down.
And I’ve had enough. I won’t have this a moment longer, the snide remarks, the goading, the sheer lack of respect for the woman I love.
I sidestep Natasha’s naked body and pull Ava on. “Have some fucking respect, Natasha.” I take the steps as fast as I’m comfortable with, knowing Ava’s in heels.
“I would like to send a memo too,” Ava mutters behind me, and every tense muscle loosens immediately. Sarcasm actually suits her right now.
“Whatever you want,” I say on a small laugh. And I mean it. I will give her whatever she wants. We round the landing, and I see John up ahead, running a routine check. “Sam? Drew?” I mouth, and he points downstairs. Fucking hell, they’re still abstaining? I look down at my watch. It’s gone eleven.
I take the steps down to the foyer, the space now sparse of members. “Do you want a drink?” I ask when we near the bar.
“Please.”
I detect melancholy and study her face, trying to read her thoughts. It’s a constant challenge.
“Why did you take me up there?” she asks. I can suddenly read her. Not her thoughts, but her expression. Accusing.
“You want me to be more open with you,” I say quietly. And I don’t want her constantly wondering about the infamous rooms of The Manor. Rooms I’ll never step foot in again.
“I never want to go up there again.”
“Then you won’t.”
“And I never want you to go up there either.”
And there we have the true issue. It’s me. Just me. How the fuck can I reassure her if she doesn’t hear me? “I’ve no need to go up there,” I say gently. “Everything I need is standing within touching distance, and I plan on keeping her that close.”
She nods. Swallows. Blinks. “Thank you.”
Why the hell is she thanking me? “You find Kate, and I’ll get the drinks,” I tell her, feeling at her face. She needs distracting. “Go.” I guide her to the door and watch her walk toward the summer room, willing every female member of The Manor to be wise. Be wise or die.
I turn toward the bar and exhale loudly, and Mario’s bushy Italian eyebrows lift. “Don’t ask,” I say, rubbing at my cheeks. “Can I get a water?”
One lands in front of me the moment I utter the words. “And for Ava?” He measures a small space between his fingers. “Averysmall one?”
