Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
My footsteps are quiet as I step towards Ava. My frightened little bird hides behind a rusted out water heater. Like everything else in this house, I'm shocked it's still functional, given its age and condition. Her shoulders shake as she sucks in frantic breaths.
At the sight of her, something inside my chest tightens. A burning sensation spreads inside my lungs, making every inhale sting. She chose to hide in a damp basement amongst the grime and spiderwebs. She chose this cold, dirty place over my arms.
She isn't ready yet to accept me, but she will be soon. She'll see that the only place she's safe is in my arms.
My fingers reach out, wrapping around the back of her neck. Her shocked scream vibrates against my palm. Some demented part of me twitches and springs to life. The sound of her fear sends my blood rocketing through my veins, pooling in my cock.
“You promised you wouldn't run from me again, precious.”
I wrap my arm around her middle and pull her to her feet, pressing her trembling body into mine. Her breath whooshes out of her with a surprised squeak. It's the most adorable fucking sound, and I immediately want her to make it again.
I press my face into her neck, inhaling the sweet strawberry scent of her hair.
“Fuck,” I whisper against her soft locks, “I missed you.”
Her breath catches and her forehead crinkles. Her mouth opens and closes several times before she pinches her lips together. Her stunned silence has me wondering if she's not used to being told that. I'll tell her every day until she accepts that it's true.
I lay her down on the floor, watching her blue, cotton nightgown slide up her legs.
Her hands fumble with the edges of her dress, pulling the fabric down over her creamy thighs.
Her wide eyes stare up at me, full of fear and something else.
Unspoken emotions swirl in her mossy-green eyes.
I suspect they’re emotions she recognizes, but refuses to name, at least not yet.
She winces as the cold, concrete floor bites at her legs.
My chest clenches painfully and my lungs refuse to expand.
That living part of my near-dead heart thrashes around wildly.
It seethes inside of me, furious to see her lying in a cold, dirty place.
This is all for her, I remind it. She has to feel the sting of the cold before she can admit that she wants the warmth I can provide her.
I lower to my knees in front of her and reach out until my palms are pressed against her hips. My fingers squeeze her soft body, appreciating the way her supple curves mold around them.
“Why do you keep running from me, little bird?”
Ava doesn’t answer. She doesn’t shake her head, nor does she open her mouth. She simply stares, eyes locked onto mine.
“Are you afraid of me?” My voice wavers more than I care to admit.
Of course, she’s afraid. But how much? Will she be still and recede into herself?
Will she be frozen in fear, dragging her consciousness into a faraway place to escape me?
My heart thumps uncomfortably in my chest. I’m certain it’ll stop beating altogether if she freezes in front of me.
Suddenly, it hurts to breathe. If she’s so petrified of the monster before her that she can’t move, my lungs will combust.
I stare down at her perfection and wonder, could she be the one person who isn’t terrified of me?
My throat clogs with an unfamiliar emotion, one that’s so far removed from my current self that I can scarcely recognize it for what it is—vulnerability.
Its claws tighten around my windpipe, scratching and restricting.
Looking down at her, I feel vulnerable. I fucking hate it.
I’m ripped from my thoughts the instant her foot collides with my face.
Her heel cracks across my mouth, leaving lightening and fire in its wake.
My hand snakes around her ankles, keeping her still beneath me.
The ache in my jaw doesn’t stop the smile that spreads across my face.
The creature living in my heart jumps up and down like a maniac.
It tosses confetti in the air, blows trumpets, and screams, our girl didn’t freeze.
Her eyes widen into large green saucers as she watches me rip an electrical cord from the closest appliance to us.
The old lamp had surely seen better days before being trapped in this basement, rusted and forgotten.
Now, at least it will serve a purpose. I yank her legs up, forcing the cord beneath her hips before using it to tie her calves to her thighs.
She whimpers as her legs are forced open in some kind of inverse frog pose.
I loop the remaining cord around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides.
I swipe a hand across my mouth, catching a small trickle of blood from where she kicked me. “I appreciate that you feel safe enough with me to fight, but don’t test me, precious.”
“What? No, that’s…that’s not…I don’t…” If her words were a staircase, she’d be tumbling down it one stair at a time, clunking her head along the way.
She wriggles her arms and legs, struggling against her binds. The sight calls to the twisted part of me that wants to stalk her, hunt her, take her. My dick hardens painfully, testing the strength of my jeans.
Ava's dress has ridden up to her stomach, revealing her naked core. My lips peel up into a smile. Did my sweet girl decide not to wear panties knowing I'd be coming to see her?
I rub my palms along her inner thighs, tracing slow lines on her skin.
A moan rumbles in my chest as I knead my fingers into her soft flesh.
My body angles toward her, as if the scent of her sex is a siren’s song.
The sweet musk wafts into the air and wraps itself around my soul, dragging me closer.
My fingers whisper along the edges of her sex, barely grazing her pink lips.
Ava whimpers beneath me. Her legs twitch with a tremor that runs through her body.
She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and jams her teeth into it.
My fingers continue their teasing dance, tracing softly around her pussy.
When my finger brushes against her clit, she moans behind her closed lips.
That won't do; it's not enough. I need to hear her fall apart at my touch.
I need to hear her scream my name. More than anything, I need her to hear her own pleasure.
She's hiding from me and she's hiding from herself. I won't let her pretend anymore.
I press my palm against her sex and reach the other up to cup her chin. Her bottom lip is red and puffy from her chewing on it. I press my thumb into it until she releases it from her mouth.
“Your songs are mine, little bird. Let me hear them,” I demand.
I rub my palm against her pussy, my hand spreading her arousal. With the pad of my finger, I circle her clit until she cries out and her back arches.
“That's it.” I watch her cheeks redden with my praise. “You're being so good, my beautiful girl. You're fucking perfect.”
I lean my head downward, closer to her core, and inhale her sweet aroma. My head swims with the intoxicating scent. The need to taste her becomes overwhelming, morphing into a living force that demands it. Her hips buck as I run my tongue up her slit.
I suck her clit into my mouth and she rewards me by moaning deep from her throat. The sounds of her pleasure demolish any remaining restraint I have. I feast on her like a starving man, lapping up her arousal before dipping my tongue inside her.
My eyes drift up to her face. Her eyes are closed, her face contorted with lust.
“Open your eyes, Ava,” I growl against her wet folds.
Not only do her eyes remain closed, but she pinches them tighter, little lines forming beside them with the effort.
I slap her inner thigh with my open palm, reveling in the sound of her resulting whimper. “Look at me right now, or I'll stop.”
That gets her attention. Her eyes rocket open. As she stares down at me between her thighs, her cheeks take on a redness so deep it's nearly purple.
“That's my good girl,” I hum, “you're listening so well.”
I reward her by swirling my tongue around her clit while slowly pushing a finger into her perfect little cunt. She wiggles, pushing her body closer to me, silently begging for more. I slide a second finger inside, feeling her stretch around me.
I play with her, watching her reactions and listening to the cues her body gives me. I rock my fingers inside her, pulling them in and out slowly at first before increasing my pace. My fingers curl, stroking a spot that makes her writhe and moan.
She makes a strangled noise in her throat and her pussy tightens around my fingers. She grinds her core against my tongue. A sense of desperation claws inside my chest. I'm desperate to watch her come undone, to know what she tastes like when she cums. But I can't give it to her, not yet.
She whines when I lift my mouth from her, her hips wiggling desperately until I replace it with my thumb. I rub soft circles around her clit. “Be a good girl and tell me what you want.”
Her mouth moves, releasing stifled sounds and incoherent syllables.
My fingers still inside of her. “Use your words or you get nothing.”
“Please,” she begs, “please let me come.”
She begs so sweetly that I almost give in. Almost. She needs to learn how to submit to me fully in order to be rewarded. She writhes, desperately struggling against the cord wrapped around her legs, trying to pull my fingers further into her.
“What’s my name to you, little bird?” I ask.
She stills, her lips quivering with anxiety. I watch the struggle in her eyes, the flashes of desperation and fear. A tear trickles out of the corner of her eye, dripping down her temple and falling to the floor. She’s so beautiful when she cries.
I pinch her clit between my fingers until she cries out. “My name to you, Ava, say it. Say it and I’ll let you come.”
“P-please,” she whispers, her voice shaking with uncertainty, “let me come…master.”
“There's my good girl,” I praise.
I pump my fingers in and out with vigor, and increase the pressure on her clit. Her legs quake, her fight against her binds renewing as she chases her orgasm. One that I absolutely will not deny her.
I curl my fingers inside of her and pinch her clit, watching her eyes roll back. “Come for me, precious.”
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” she screams, her pussy clenching around my fingers with her release.
I press a third finger into her, coaxing her through orgasm.
When I pull my fingers out, I watch her arousal drip from her, wishing it was my come.
Though if it was, I wouldn’t let it leave her body.
I'd stuff it back inside of her, keeping her soaked in my scent, marking her as mine.
Soon, I remind the insistent beast raging inside my chest, very fucking soon.