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)
And then it hits me. “No,” I whisper. She’s not coming? Her performance downstairs wasn’t her punishment for laughing at her discomfort. This is—leaving me here with a raging hard-on, knowing there’s fuck all I can do about it without giving Cathy an eyeful, and Cathy has had enough eyefuls. And mouthfuls for that matter. Oh, she’s gone too far.
I reverse my steps, my erection now painful, and I will it to stand down, retreat. It doesn’t. Instead, it throbs harder. “Fuck,” I spit, shutting the door, closing my eyes, and reluctantly accepting what needs to be done. I can’t go downstairs with this thing.
Jaw rolling, shoulders dropped, I go to the bathroom and turn on the shower, taking myself to the vanity unit and putting myself before the mirror. Except I don’t see me. I see Ava. Bent over, hair a morning tangled, glorious mess, arms braced, body ready, head dropped.
I inhale and circle myself at the root, exhaling from the relief, just from the pressure. And I start to stroke, slowly, imagining it’s Ava’s pussy encasing me. It’s the only way. I haven’t wanked off for years, haven’t needed to, and I shouldn’t need to now. I tighten my fist and increase my pace, resting a hand on the edge of the vanity unit, bracing myself, leaning into it. My breaths come short and fast, the tingles come hard and intense, the blood surges rapidly. “Fuck,” I hiss through clenched teeth, the muscles in my arm starting to burn, my thrusts becoming chaotic. I growl, curse, close my eyes, replaying her words, hearing her voice, seeing her eyes.
Take me.
I pump fast, chasing my release.
You weren’t imagining it.
My speed increases even more, the end teasing me.
I love you. I need you.
My dick explodes, cum shooting across the vanity, and my lungs drain, my exhale loud and long. “Shit,” I breathe, my muscles relaxing, my arm taking the weight of my body leaning into it. I look up at my reflection. Alone. No Ava to smother post-orgasm. No soft skin to kiss. A neck to nuzzle. It’s the most unsatisfying release I’ve ever had.
But it was a means to an end. A lot like my past sex life.
And it won’t ever happen again.
I clean up, shower, dry off, brush my teeth, and throw on some old jeans and a white T-shirt faster than Sarah can flick her whip. Fucking fast.
As I exit the bedroom, I feel down my rough face. Shaving feels like a terrible way to spend time these days. I run a hand through my damp hair as I reach the top of the stairs, slowing my pace when I see Ava slumped in a chair. She’s speaking quietly. Looks forlorn.
“It’s nothing like Matt says, Mum.” My hackles rise. Matt? What the fuck has Matt said? And to Ava’s mother? My blood starts to simmer, and the only thing stopping it from boiling over is the screaming despondency coating Ava’s face. “Mum, listen,” she goes on, clearly pacifying her. “I’ve got to get to work.” I feel my shoulders sag, anger making way for disappointment. She’s lying to her mother to avoid having the conversation. The conversation about me. “Please, don’t be. Matt wanted me back.” Her hand covers her face. “He pounced on me when I went to collect the last of my things and turned nasty when I rebuffed him.” Matt turned nasty? With Ava? Fuck me, the emotions in me right now are see-sawing. I’m back to being angry. “Jesse was just protecting me.” The mention of my name only alleviates it a teeny, tiny smidge. Has the man got a death wish? Hanging around The Manor, hitting on Ava, more than once, calling her parents. Does he know who he’s dealing with? I start to shake with rage, and that just makes me all the more fucking angry with Matt. Today is our day. Just about us. Can’t he just fuck off? “Yes,” Ava breathes. “I’m just seeing him.” I see her cringe from here. And if she was looking at me, she’d see the steam coming out of my ears. “It’s nothing serious.”
I cough under my breath. Yeah, that stings.
“He’s not an alcoholic, Mum. Matt’s being spiteful, ignore him. And don’t answer any more of his calls.” Fuck me, someone hold me back. Could the arsehole stoop any lower? I watch as Ava continues to pacify her mother. I’m fucking livid.
She eventually cuts the call, blindly discards her mobile, and closes her eyes. Exhausted. Everything about her radiates tiredness. Sadness. Fucking hell. There’s so much from that conversation that’s enraged me, but as I stare at her now, all I want to do is make her feel better. Show her that all this shit isn’t for nothing.
I take the stairs slowly, my instinct pulling me to her, demanding I make everything okay. Comfort her. Chase away her woes. Ironic, really, isn’t it? I’m the root of her problems, both current and those on the horizon. But isn’t that the beauty of horizons? They can never be reached, going on forever, stretching into the distance. Far away.