AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She really doesn’t want to know. I had planned on hard and fast. Shock and awe. But with my toxic, uncontrollable thoughts comes panic, and with panic comes irrepressible wildness. I drop a kiss on her ear and remove the other cuff, turning her over, swallowing when my sensitive, tingling, softening cock withdraws. I check her wrists. They’re a little red. No blisters. No welts. Because she didn’t fight me.
I secure her beneath me, my hands over hers on the pillow, and I gaze down at the aftermath of my retribution fuck displayed all over her face. Glistening eyes. Flushed cheeks. A damp brow. Wild hair. She’s a beautiful mess.
“I like hearing you scream,” I say around a smile. “And I like knowing that I’m the one making you scream.”
She tries to look offended. It’s sweet. “I have a sore throat.”
Good. Hopefully talking will be uncomfortable and she’ll think twice about arguing with me in future. “Are you hungry?”
“No.”
I bet she was too busy to eat, to even think about eating, and that right there is another firm reason to resent her work. Self-neglect. “I’ll go and get you some water and then we can snuggle,” I say, nuzzling at her nose. “Deal?”
“Deal.”
I kiss her chastely and crawl off the bed, heading to the kitchen to fetch some water, scanning the fridge for anything easy to graze on. I pull out some strawberries, fill two glasses, and head back upstairs. She’s snoozing when I arrive. Bollock naked. My smile is uncontainable. I place the waters on the nightstand and lower to the bed.
“Baby,” I whisper, moving in close to her side, my body spread the length of hers. “Have I fucked you unconscious?” She stretches and moves to face me, opening her mouth when I offer her a strawberry.
Feeding her. Lying here. Just us, no disruptions or outside forces playing havoc with our peace. Only my mind, and I am working hard on controlling that. But it’s taken a long day to get here. Monday wasn’t much better. And tomorrow? The thought of running the gauntlet again, dodging my past, avoiding interferences, exhausts me here and now.
“You didn’t mean it, did you?” I ask quietly, and her chewing slows as she watches me. So I elaborate. “When you said you didn’t live here.” I can’t face another day like today. Uncertain. Dealing with her defiance. If my days are ever going to improve while she’s at work, she needs to meet me somewhere in the middle and stop saying or doing things that she knows will send me crazy.
“You want me to live with you, but you won’t even tell me how old you are.”
“What difference does my age make?” I take a strawberry and sink my teeth in, sucking back the juice.
“Okay.” She rids her mouth of food. It doesn’t bode well. “What do I tell my parents when they ask about your profession?”
Oh? She’s thinking about introducing me to her parents? That’s a step in the right direction. What will they think of me? My age? Our relationship? “Tell them I own a hotel.”
Ava takes the strawberry I hold out, her eyes narrowing. “What if they would like to see this hotel?”
“Then they can see it.Youthought it was a hotel.” My lips stretch, amused. She’s going to have a problem for every solution.
“You had me escorted around the premises by staff and locked me up in your office so no one could talk to me.” Her scowl is fierce. “Are you going to do the same with my mum and dad?”
“I’ll show them around on a quiet day.” Problem solved. Is she really talking about me meeting her parents? Or is she presenting reasons why I shouldn’t? The latter is depressing and, even more depressing, so is the answer. She really is worried. About my age, about my manor.
Aboutme.
I’d have to control my urges in front of them. Be respectful. Not touch her. I frown to myself. Jesus. Perhaps it’s best Idon’tmeet her parents.
“What if they want to stay at this hotel?” she goes on. “They live in Newquay so they’ll be staying in a hotel if they come to visit.”
Another problem. “Should I put them in the communal room?”
She gasps and smacks me, and I cough over a laugh. “I’m glad you find my turmoil so funny.”
Turmoil? She’s overthinking things. So let me solve all of this for her because, actually, I definitely want to meet her parents. Not because I actually want to meet them, but because of what that means. It’s a milestone in a relationship. A serious milestone.
And she seems to be wanting to avoid it.
I get my laughter under control and face her, making sure she sees that I won’t accept any bullshit excuses for her to dodge this. It’s gonna happen, sooner rather than later. My eyes briefly drop to her stomach. Maybe sooner than she thinks. “Ava,” I start, serious, reaching for her pouty lip and smoothing it out. “It would seem you’re looking for any excuse to get out of this. If your parents ask how old I am, then make an age up. However old you want me to be, I’ll be that. If they come to visit, they will stay here. There are many spare bedrooms, all with bathrooms. Stop fighting it. Now, is that all?”
“Are you going to trample my parents?” she asks quietly.
“If they get in my way.” They better not get in my way. How can I ensure that? I’ll just have to dazzle them with my winning personality—the easygoing one that’s faded recently—and with my wealth. Below the belt? Maybe. But surely all any mother and father want is to know their daughter will be looked after, and I will do that.If Ava fucking lets me.
