37. Ava
CHAPTER 37
AVA
I pull a ragged breath into my aching lungs, shaking in the aftermath of Raf’s terrifying confrontation. If I hadn’t skipped lunch today, I’m pretty sure I’d be hunched over right now, puking my guts out all over the floor. As it is, I’m just left with the sickening roll of nausea curling in my gut, knees buckling and hands trembling.
The pages of the paper I wrote for him lie strewn across my bedroom floor, mixing with my scattered books and shredded underwear to make a perfect visual metaphor for the absolute disaster my life has become. My remaining clothes hang off my body, messy and ruined. I swipe angrily at the stray tear on my cheek as I try to collect myself, casting an anxious glance between Wes and Ford still hovering nearby.
A sob tries to claw its way up my throat, but I swallow it down, refusing to let them see me break. Raf’s words echo in my mind on an endless loop, and when I close my eyes, all I see is his features contorted with anger, all I feel is the heat of his breath as he roared in my face, unleashing his rage.
I know I’m not completely innocent in all this. I was well aware the content of that paper would strike a nerve, which was exactly why I wrote it as a little screw you to Raf for forcing me to do his assignment. I’d honestly forgotten all about it until Professor Turner announced she was handing them back today. I was only hazarding a guess at my stepbrother’s issues when I wrote the stupid thing– I had no clue how real and raw they truly were. I never could’ve predicted how visceral his reaction would be when he found out, and now…
Drawing a deep inhale, I blink my eyes open again, the wreckage on the floor still taunting me. Everything looks just as broken as I feel. I hate that I let Raf do this to me; that I let him make me feel so small and afraid. I hate that the Kings can make me so scared and unsure of myself in the blink of an eye, and I hate even more that I’ve allowed it to get to this point. I’m supposed to be strong. I’m supposed to fight back. But now I’m just… I’m just a fucking mess, like this room.
“Hey…”
Wes’ voice cuts through the storm in my head like a lightning strike and I look up, startled to see him closer now, his brow creased with what looks like genuine concern. I wipe at my eyes, trying to shore up my composure even though it’s obvious I’m crumbling.
“You alright?” he asks gently, approaching me with the type of caution usually reserved for wounded animals.
I nod back at him numbly, but it’s a lie.
It’s all lies.
I can’t bring myself to utter a single word– it’s like my voice won’t work, caught somewhere in my chest along with all the other broken shards of my psyche.
Wes sighs as if I’m being difficult on purpose, moving in closer and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. His touch is tentative as he tries to coax me toward the bed, and I’m not sure whether that’s because he’s actually trying to be gentle or if he just knows I’m on the edge and doesn’t want to get caught in the crossfire when I lose it.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, guiding me down onto the mattress.
I let him help me, just for a second, and it makes me feel weak all over again. It makes me feel helpless, like I’m just a fucking joke to all of them, even when they pretend to care in their own twisted way. The shame burns through me like a firestorm and I shove Wes away, hard enough to make him stumble back.
“What the hell, Ava?” he grumbles, scowling. “I’m just trying to help.”
I glare back at him as I scramble backwards on the bed, placing myself in the center to put more distance between us. Then I turn my glare on Ford, but even looking at these boys is too much right now. I cover my face with my hands, fighting tears again, knowing full well how pathetic I must seem to them.
“Let me try,” Ford murmurs, the usual rough edge to his voice blended with a strange and unexpected softness.
I peek through my fingers as he approaches, bracing myself for impact. He crawls onto the bed, hazel eyes locking with mine as he moves toward me with an intensity that both frightens me and makes me feel seen. Before I can flinch away, he wraps me in his arms and pulls me in, holding me tight against him.
The strange comfort of his closeness melts some of my resistance, and I find myself leaning into the embrace, burying my face in his chest as an involuntary shudder rolls through my body. It should terrify me how familiar this feels, how quickly the warmth of his body brings back a rush of memories– both good and bad. He’s touched me, tasted me, scared me and seduced me. But right now, I don’t even care if this is real or just another one of his tricks. Right now, anything is better than feeling the way I did when Raf swept out of here, leaving me amongst the wreckage like a broken doll.
“What do you need?” Ford questions, stroking his hand up my spine.
“I don’t know,” I admit. It’s the first thing I’ve managed to say since Raf left, and it’s the truth.
Ford pulls back to look at me, then leans in and licks my cheek, right where that pathetic tear fell. A smirk teases the corner of his mouth while he savors the taste of my pain on his tongue, fingers toying with the edge of my torn shirt. “I think I do,” he rasps, tugging gently to strip the ruined fabric from my body. “I think you need something to make you feel good.”
His words hang in the air between us, heavy with suggestion and promise, and for some insane reason, I don’t object. Nor do I try to stop him as he peels away the rest of my ruined clothes, guiding me to lie back on the bed with my head on the pillows.
I feel Wes watching from a distance, feel Ford’s eyes tracking over my bare skin like he’s mapping out every inch, and my responsive shiver isn’t from fear or pain. There’s heat in Ford’s gaze, but there’s something else, too. Something I’m not sure I’ve ever seen there before.
He glances over at Wes, some silent understanding passing between them like they’re both on the same page, and I know exactly what page it is. I’ve read it before, and it’s a page I never thought I’d turn to so willingly after what Raf just put me through.
“Why don’t you let Wes make you feel good, Ava baby?” Ford suggests, stroking my hair back from my face.
My eyes dart between the two of them, and realization dawns that maybe this is exactly what I need. Maybe I just need to let go and forget, even if it’s just a temporary reprieve from the chaos. Maybe that’s the only way to survive all of this without losing my mind completely.
I dip my chin in a nod, and relief soars like a drug through my veins.
Wes’s eyes light up like he’s just won the damn lottery, and it surprises me how on board with this I suddenly am– so much more than I should be after what just transpired. Maybe it’s because I’m actually choosing it, and in doing so, it feels like it’s on my terms. Or maybe I’m only justifying my stupidity to mask the confusion and shame of wanting it. Either way, I can’t deny that both Wes and Ford have made me feel good before, at least physically, and right now, that’s the only good I’m going to get.
Wes yanks his shirt off over his head, and I’m instantly captivated by the flex of his defined muscles beneath all that smooth, tanned skin. The hard lines of his body look like they were carved from marble, chiseled by the gods themselves as a gift to humanity. He’s the perfect blonde-haired, gray-eyed package, and that roguish grin on his face says that he knows it.
It’s no wonder Wes Powers is the campus golden boy–he’s so pretty it almost hurts to look at him, like staring into the sun, watching everything you ever wanted and everything you know shouldn’t collide in a blazing supernova.
Even after that ugly run-in with Raf, after the mess and madness of the last few weeks, I want Wes. I want to lose myself in the way he makes me feel, want to come alive and unwound beneath his hands.
My chest heaves as he drops to his fists at the end of the bed, crawling toward me with a feral gleam in his eye and a wicked grin on his lips. The coolness of the sheets against my bare skin reminds me just how raw and exposed I am, stripped down to nothing in the hopes it’ll save me. That it may finally set me free.
I tip my knees apart, Wes’ hands coasting up the insides of my legs as he positions himself between them, teasing me with the promise of what’s to come. He licks a stripe up my inner thigh, and I reach down to thread my fingers into his hair, tugging the strands to direct his mouth where I need it most.
“Look at you, so desperate and demanding,” Ford murmurs, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear as he leans in closer. I’d almost forgotten he was right next to me, just as much a part of this depravity as Wes is.
A whimper breaks from my throat, Wes smirking as he leans in. His warm breath skates across my skin, stubble rasping against my inner thighs. I squirm with anticipation, bucking my hips, and the first drag of his tongue almost makes me lose it. Pleasure races through my body like a shot of pure adrenaline as he licks into me, my back arching off the mattress as I cry out.
Wes doesn’t let up, his mouth sealing over my pussy, tongue lashing at my clit. Ford watches with rapt attention as his friend drives me insane, feeding filthy words into my ear while Wes feasts on me.
“God, he’s making you feel so good, isn’t he?” Ford taunts, his voice low and gravelly. “He’s so good at that, look how much you love it.”
I can’t deny it any more than I can stave off the avalanche of pleasure that’s building inside me, fast and furious. Every flick of Wes’ tongue pushes me closer to the edge, bringing me to the brink of ruin.
“You’re so fucking hot right now, Ava baby,” Ford rasps, palming the hard bulge pressing against the front of his jeans. “Fuck, I can hardly take it.”
I turn my head, eyes zeroing in on the movement of his hand as he strokes himself through the fabric, then pinging up to meet his own. A wicked smirk plays on his lips, and I know what’s coming next. Worse than that, I welcome it. I want it.
I don’t even care what that says about me. Not here, not now. In this moment, I don’t care about anything except for how good this feels.
“You want me to take it out, don’t you?” Ford prompts, his fingers already popping the button on his jeans and lowering the zipper. “Little Dolly needs me to feed her some cock, doesn’t she?”
My teeth sink into my lower lip to stifle a moan, my body shaking with need. Wes is relentless between my legs, his mouth working me into a frenzy, hands pushing my thighs wider to grant him better access to consume me.
Ford lights up when I nod back at him, a wicked gleam in his eye as he pushes up to his knees and shoves his pants and boxers down. His cock springs free, rock hard and ready as he shuffles closer, the piercing at the base of the head glinting.
Without hesitation, I part my lips and take him in, letting him fill my mouth as Wes’ tongue spears into my opening. It’s the single hottest moment of my life and for once, there’s no shame or humiliation attached to it. I want this, want them , want to lose myself completely.
Ford fucks my mouth while Wes fucks me with his tongue, and I love that it’s both of them, that they’re both as lost to it as I am. Ford grips my hair, directing my movements as he pumps his thick cock deeper down my throat, groaning like he can’t get enough. He steals my breath and gives it back as Wes continues to work my pussy, licking and sucking like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted on his tongue.
I barely notice when Wes shoves his own pants down, too caught up in the lustful haze we’re all trapped in. His mouth stays on me as he fumbles his jeans down past his hips, and I moan around Ford’s dick at the sight of Wes’ springing free, his hand wrapping around it and tugging.
“Look what you’re making him do,” Ford remarks with a harsh, breathless laugh. “See what you do to us, Ava? You drive us fucking crazy, pretty girl.”
Wes fists his cock while he eats me out, one hand working his shaft, the other wrapped around my thigh to anchor me to the bed as he takes me apart and puts me back together again. Ford’s right– I’m making Wes lose it, and I love that. I love that I’m the reason he’s breaking, too. It’s wild and raw, it’s complete madness, and yet it’s also everything I need it to be.
Ford thrusts deeper into my mouth, his hands controlling the motion as his hips buck hard and fast against my face. I moan around his cock, and he groans at the vibration, driving all of us closer to the edge. I feel it coming, that unstoppable wave, that unavoidable crash, and I don’t want it to stop. I don’t want any of this to ever stop.
The tension coils tight inside of me, a spring about to break, a wire about to snap.
“Oh fuck,” Ford chokes, my tongue toying with his piercing. “Fuck, yes. That feels so good, baby girl. You’re gonna make me come. Wes is about to lose it, too, you’re gonna make both of us come so fucking hard.”
Those words unravel me, sending me freefalling into an explosive climax that makes my back arch and my toes curl. I hear Wes grunt, feel the motion of his fist around his cock as hot ropes of cum land on my skin. I feel Ford’s cock throb in my mouth, taste the rush of his release shooting down my throat. I open my eyes and see both of them, just as blissed out as I am in the throes of release, and the sensory overload is too much. It breaks me into a million shards of pleasure that consume me, taking me under as I ride out the waves of ecstasy.
When I finally come back into myself, we’re all collapsed on the bed in a heap, tangled and breathless and wrecked. My pulse throbs in my ears, gradually steadying as my senses return. The silence in the room is cool and heavy, a stark contrast to the searing heat of what we just did.
Wes and Ford bracket me on either side, their chests rising and falling with labored breaths as they slowly come back down to earth. I don’t want to move. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to do anything but drift in this quiet, mindless peace.
But then my gaze drifts, and I catch our reflection in the mirror across the room. I see the mess of the sheets, the mess of my hair, the mess of everything in my life right now. The eyes staring back at me don’t even look like my own. I’m not sure if I’m looking at myself or at the girl they’ve made me into.
Maybe I’m both. Maybe I’m neither.
Maybe I’m so broken that I don’t even care anymore.