Chapter 6
“We need to consummate our vows,” she says sleepily when I’ve finally got her upstairs.
Who is she trying to kid? She’s good for nothing, as proven when she requested me to carry her, out of necessity rather than simply because she loves me carrying her everywhere. I mean, I’m tempted, always tempted, but as I’ve explained to her endlessly, I’d prefer complete cognizance when we’re intimate. “Baby,” I say softly, appeasing her. “You’re too tired. We’ll consummate in the morning.” And every other morning for the rest of our lives together. I encourage her from my chest and look down at her sleepy face. Yes, she’s knackered. God love her.
She relents, falling forward, back into my chest. I don’t let her, just wanting to look at her this closely for a while, take in every inch of her, not that I need my mind refreshing. Just... well, I could look at her continuously, especially when she looks so peaceful. “What?” she asks.
“Tell me you love me.”
“I love you.”
“Tell me?—”
“I need you.”
“You’ll never know how happy that makes me,” I say around a smile.
“I do know,” she counters as I drop a light kiss on her bare lips.
“I want you naked and spread all over me.” Snuggles. “Let me get this dress off.” It’s almost a crime to remove it from her body since it’s obviously been made for her. But.... naked.
When I’ve turned her in my arms, her chin drops to her chest and my eyes cross at the number of buttons that greet me, all tiny, all very close together. I frown at my fingers. This is going to be fiddly. I make a start, struggling with the first one, but once I have a few undone, it becomes easier. “What’s happening with your brother and Kate?” I ask quietly. Like I said to Kate, I don’t want Sam to be messed around. It’s taken a lot for him to admit he’s catching feelings, albeit in his own weird way.
“I don’t know,” Ava replies quietly, thoughtfully, telling me she’s worried too. But is she telling me everything?
“Either you’ve learnt to control your bad habit,” I say, watching and waiting for her fingers to move into her hair. “Or you’re telling me the truth.”
“I’m telling the truth.”
I finish the last button, ease the lace off her shoulders, and draw the dress down her body for her to step out of, wondering how the hell she’s managed to carry it around with her all day. It weighs a fucking ton. I’m hit with the vision of her bodice, and I swallow, quickly looking away and searching for somewhere to put the dress, seeing a hanger on the back of the door. I fiddle with the loops to get them on.
“I think seeing each other has sparked memories, that’s all,” she says from behind me.
“Memories?” I go back to her and get to work on her underwear.
“They were bad for each other. You know Kate, and Dan isn’t the most tolerant man on the planet. They clashed terribly. It was best for them both when Dan left.”
I inwardly laugh to myself. I know Kate, yes. Firecracker. And I don’t know Dan very well, but I know I don’t like him. “But now he’s back.”
“Yes,” she breathes, sounding flat and defeated. “But he’ll be gone soon.”
What can I say? Good? Ava’s brother is an interference I really don’t want around. A punch-up waiting to happen.
“What about Kate and Sam?” she asks.
“I’ve told you, that’s none of our business.”
“But she’s a member of The Manor. Why did you allow that?”
“It’s not my job to ask potential members why they want to join. I check for criminal records, medical issues, and financials.” Or Sarah did. I frown, wondering where I might start with that when we get any new member applications. “If they can pay, they’re clean, and have no serious offences, they’re in. I don’t run therapy sessions to delve into their reasons, Ava.” Shit, will John know how to deal with new member requests?
“Members could screw anything between visits to The Manor and catch something,” she grumbles. “Or be arrested for violence. How would you know?”
“Because they’re required to undertake monthly tests, and I obtain regular reports. They are not issues that can be completely prevented, but it’s controlled as best we can. There is no penetrative sex without condoms, and their honesty and disclosure form part of their agreement. These people are respected members of society, Ava.” Well, some. Many are plain wankers.
“Who love having kinky sex with strangers and weird contraptions.”
“None of my business.” It’s just my... livelihood? I frown again as I remove her corset. Ava’s my livelihood now. The Manor is just... there.
I place my lips on her shoulder, kissing her gently, because she’s precious. Delicate. I feel her body expand on an inhale. “She’s going to get hurt.”
“What makes you think that?” I ask, tugging her against me. In all honesty, I think the chances of Kate getting hurt is less with Sam than with Ava’s brother.
“I know she likes him.”
“And I know Sam likes her,” I reply quietly, pressing my body into her, doing myself no favors, goading my cock.
But her reaction to my touch? Magic. “Then why can’t they date like any normal couple?” she asks on a wispy breath.
“None of our business,” I murmur, trying to talk my dick down. It’s no good. Ava’s awake, I can feel every tingle on her skin, my dick is stirring, and there’s no chance of it resting until it’s satisfied. I’m about to turn her and worship her, but she beats me to it and spins fast, thrusting into my chest, forcing my backward steps to the bed. She looks determined. Who am I to argue? Besides, we haven’t had sex today. Criminal.
“This marriage is getting consummated,” she declares as I land on my back. She’s soon sitting on me. “Mr. Ward, I’m taking the power. Any objections?”
My smile could short-circuit The Manor. Taking the power? Oh, lady, you are welcome to it. “Knock yourself out, baby.” Then I scowl. “But please watch your mouth.”
“Mouth,” she retorts huskily, pulling me up to her by my tie. Jesus, she soon got over her tiredness. Horny. I’m here for it. “Who has the power?” she asks.
“It looks like you do for now.” I’m slightly alarmed by her purpose. “Don’t get used to it.”
She slams her mouth on mine, eating me alive, and I fall back to the bed, taking Ava with me, letting her at me, cupping her arse, squeezing and stroking, moving to her hips, her back, her neck, and back down again.
“Damn you, woman.”
“You don’t want me?”
“Don’t ask stupid fucking questions.” I shudder, her mouth working around my ear, and all I can think is... get inside her. I’m not up for being teased, and that’s what Ava does when she takes the power. She torments me, gets the most satisfaction from turning me into a desperate wreck. I think I’ll lose my mind.
I lift my upper body ready to take her onto her back but barely get an inch off the mattress before I’m flat again. “Oh no, Ward,” she pants, one eyebrow hitched cheekily. I’m immediately worried. I can’t manhandle her, can’t be too rough with her, I just... can’t.
She takes my hand.
Itake a breath. What is she?—
I inhale when I realize her plan, my muscles tensing, stopping her from lifting my wrist to the headboard, the cuff still dangling around my wrist. She firms up her hold, tugging, fighting my resistance, as I try so hard to shake off the instant anxiety creeping into me, remembering the last time we were here—Ava with cuffs, me at her mercy. She left me defenseless and alone on the bed. It wasn’t nice. My reaction was quite extreme, admittedly, but way past my control.
I breathe in, going against everything I am and know, letting her take my hand to the headboard. I have to prove I’m working on myself. It’s just one hand. But... “You won’t leave this time.” I hear the metal meet the wood, and my arm jerks in response. “Promise you won’t leave me this time.”
“If you promise you won’t get mad.”
I clench my eyes closed, taking in air, as she secures me. And I fucking let her. Because something’s just occurred to me...
If I’m handcuffed to the bed, I can’t fuck her hard, and she can’t protest that because she restrained me.
“Don’t get mad with me,” she whispers.
“Kiss me.” Distract me. Take me. Love me.
“But I’m in charge.”
“Jesus, baby, don’t make this harder than it already is.” I pull her down with my free hand and kiss her with purpose as she unravels my tie and unbuttons my shirt. Then her hands are on my chest. Her pussy rubbing me in the perfect place. My mouth works harder, my dick throbbing, my arm naturally fighting the restraint.
She abandons our kiss.
Fuck.
Don’t yell.
Let her have this. It’s been weeks of me taking it slow and gentle, and Ava trying to push it harder and faster. Weeks of her wanting to demand why I’m dialing back the ferociousness but daring not, because that will lead to a conversation she seems hell-bent on avoiding.
I hold my breath and look up at the ceiling, broken, rough whimpers coming fast as she works her lips all over my torso. I’m so tense, I’m aching everywhere. Her face is hovering over my fly. Oh Jesus.
And with one brief dash of contact, I jolt and hiss, seeing a smug, satisfied smile stretching across her face. What the hell is she up to? Do I care? The pressure is building. I feel frenzied. All control I have kept for the past few weeks is slipping. And that’s okay because I have limited movement.
She finds her way into my trousers as I reach for the back of her head, working through the silky strands, resting my head back on a sigh as she takes my dick in her hold. I thought I was prepared for the contact. The heat. The sensations.
Nope.
“Fuck, Ava,” I groan, twitching and jerking. “Fucking hell.” She peeks up at me, and I both love and hate the satisfaction on her face. “Mouth,” I growl. “Now.” She needs to cool the burn, sate the need. I narrow one warning eye on her as she slowly crawls back up my body.
“You want me to take you in my mouth?” she asks, low and huskily, dragging things out.
“Do it.”
“Who has the power, Jesse?” she asks, kissing and biting around my mouth.
“You do, baby,” I assure her. “Mouth.”
Thank God, she’s had enough of playing with me and floats back down my body, taking me deeply into her mouth. “Oh fuck. Oh Jesus, Ava. Your mouth is amazing.”
“Good?”
“Too good.” I relax for the first time since she cuffed me, shuddering as tingles glide through my body. “I knew I married you for a reason.”
A little warning bite from Ava, a long inhale from me. “All the way?” she asks,
“Do it.”
The incredible feel of her warm mouth sliding down my shaft sends me dizzy, my body melting into the bed, my hips flexing upward, encouraging her. Fuck me, that feels out of this world.
Hot.
Wet.
Then the oddest sound emanates through the room, my dick is suddenly cold, and Ava jumps up.
I jerk, knocked from my euphoria, and blink, dazed, just catching the back of Ava before she disappears into the bathroom, coughing and choking. “Ava?” I say, my voice hoarse. “Ava, baby, what’s up?”
I hear the most incredibly violent hacking. Panic finds me. “Ava,” I yell, looking up at the headboard. Trapped. She’s choking, and I’m fucking stuck here. I yank at the cuffs, hissing through the pain. “Ava!” I still, listening, hearing all kinds of horrific noises. “Jesus, Ava.” I yank my arm. “Fucking hell,” I roar, gritting my teeth, sure my shoulder is about to pop out of the socket. “Ava!” Why the fuck isn’t she answering? Because she can’t. Choking.
I hear the creaking of wood above my head, look up and see a slat bowing. Another yank, and it cracks. Mind over matter. I growl and wrench my arm down, firing a few fucks, and the wood gives, splintering, and with one more bellow and pull, the headboard surrenders, and my hand drops to the mattress limply. “Fuck,” I hiss, brushing away the remnants of wood from around me with my good hand, shaking some life into my dead one. I jump up and hurry to the bathroom, bowling in and taking in the scene—Ava slumped on the floor, sweating profusely, as white as a sheet. My brain takes its time figuring out what I’m looking at, how I should deal with it.
Then her eyes widen and she flings her arms out, catching the toilet.
And throws up.
The smell hits me like a bat to my face.
“Jesus, baby,” I whisper, moving in behind her and crouching, taking her hair and holding it up while she convulses, unable to catch her breath between retches. And, of course, all I can think about is why she’s throwing up.
“I’m fine.”
“Clearly.” Will she finally relent and have the conversation we need to have? “Let me look at you,” I say, dropping to my arse and turning her to face me, my hand still numb. She looks wiped out. Clammy, pasty, exhausted.
“Still want to fuck me?”
“Ava, please.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Lady, you’ll kill me off, I swear.” I make a vain attempt to pick some wet strands off her sweaty cheek. “You okay?”
“No,” she admits. “I feel sick.”
I welcome her into my chest when she puts herself there. Hiding? “Why do you think that is?” I ask, nibbling my lip, feeling her limp, lifeless body become hard against me.
The silence stretches. It’s so fucking uncomfortable. “Take me to bed,” she eventually mumbles, her tone begging me to leave it there. “Please.”
I look up to the ceiling, forcing some patience forward. She’s maddening. “You are the most frustrating woman on the fucking planet,” I tell her as I get us both to our feet. “You want to brush your teeth?”
“Please.” She pouts, looking small and frail.
“Everything will be fine,” I say softly, feeling at her face, making sure she’s looking at me. Is that what she needs to hear? Reassurance?
“Okay.” She smiles, that’s small and weak too, then her eyes widen and she seizes my hand. “Jesse, what have you done?”
I stare down at my wrist as she inspects the damage. More war wounds. More pain. I take the cuffs off and drop them to the floor. “You keep my heart beating, baby, but you can also make it fucking stop.” And she does, a little each day. “You said you couldn’t live without me, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then stop trying to kill me off.” I pluck the toothbrush out of the holder and squeeze some paste onto it.
“You’re such a drama queen.”
“There is nothing dramatic about being worried when my wife throws up after I’ve just thrust my cock in her mouth.”
She suddenly comes to life, falling apart laughing. Literally. I’m forced to take her elbow to stop her toppling over. She finds this funny? I can’t say we’re on the same wavelength right now, although it’s nice to see her laughing.
I wait for Ava to pull herself together, chuckling over her apologies. Rubbing at her eyes, I wonder what’s going through her head right now. Does she think I’ve forgotten why we’re in here? She dials her giggles back. “It is quite funny, though.”
Is it? “I’m glad you find it amusing,” I grumble. “Open your mouth.” I give her teeth a brush, her face a wash, and take her back to bed before anything else can go wrong on our special day.
And that’s what hurts. For me, I can’t think of a better way to end our wedding day than finding out we’re expecting. Just forget about how it came to be for a second and think about our future.
“In you get,” I order, scanning the bed one last time for any pieces of splintered wood. Deflating a little, I start to strip.
“I can’t believe I’m spending my first night as your wife in one of your torture chambers.” She looks around the room, which is probably just as well because she doesn’t see me rolling my eyes.
“No one has slept in that bed, Ava.”
“They’ve not?”
Why does she look so surprised? Did she honestly think I’d be cool making a marital bed out of one of the places I used to fuck? “No one has been in this room since I cornered you.” I raise my brows. Take that, Mrs. Ward. “And the bed is new.” What a waste of fucking money it was. And, actually, subpar in the quality department. I’m not sure I’d get away with returning it, though.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not having you in a bed that others have”—she knows exactly why, for Christ’s sake—“frequented.”
She appears to snuggle deeper. “And no one has been in this room since me?”
“Only me,” I say, nodding to her body. “Get your underwear off, I want you naked.”
“Did you sit in here quietly and think about me?” She fails to keep her grin in check as she wriggles out of her knickers.
Oh, if she only knew. I drop my boxers and wander over to the chest of drawers, pulling one open and plucking out her bra. “More than you know.”
“That’s my bra,” she gasps, her eyes following it through the air as I toss it onto the cabinet.
I get into bed with her, and she”s all over me like a rash immediately. “Comfy?” I whisper, following the path of her hands as they travel my chest, hearing her hum her answer. “How do you feel?”
“I’m fine.”
My sigh collides with Ava’s, and I pull her closer, hug her harder. “She’s fine.” If I could only make her see that she really will be fine. Because I’ve got her. Always. “Go to sleep, my beautiful girl.”
And maybe in the morning she’ll see the light.
The hope.
Maybe.
Her eyes are getting heavy, her lips parting. It’s been a long day. Certainly unforgettable. For the right reasons? Not really. And, worryingly, I’m not all that confident about tomorrow, because I’m not willing to let another day pass without us finding out if my wife is expecting our first baby.
Ourfirst.
Ava’sfirst.
Not my first.
My throat becomes thick, my hold of Ava naturally tightening. “I’m not replacing you,” I whisper, staring at the sheet covering our bodies.
Then what are you doing, Daddy?
“Searching for redemption, my darling.”
You don’t need redeeming.
“Oh, but I do.” I smile, swallowing over a lump. “I wish I still had you.”
Uncle Jake’s looking after me.
I feel a tear fall, and I release one arm from around Ava and roughly wipe at my eyes. “That’s good,” I muse, smiling through my trembling lips. “Do you think I’m crazy?”
Sometimes.
I laugh under my breath, feeling Ava stir in my arms. I watch her relax on a sigh. “Do you think I’ve?—”
Fucked this up?
I blink, jolt, scowl at nothing before me. “Watch your damn mouth.” I look around the room, coming into myself a little. I swear, I hear her laughing. Is this my thing now? Talking to dead people? I still, quiet, waiting for her to come back at me. Wishing she would. “Jesus Christ,” I breathe, shaking my head to myself. I’m certifiably fucking loopy.
I ease Ava off me and gently break away, settling her on the sheets, getting up and going to the bathroom. I go straight to the mirror. Stare at myself. Question myself.
Worry for myself.
But I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.
I hope.
“Fucking hell.” I cup my face with my palms and scrub them down my cheeks. Crazy.
I use the toilet, wash my hands, and pad back to the bed, stalling halfway across the room when someone knocks on the door gently. Given I’m naked, I look around the room for my boxers. I find them on the floor by the bed and quickly get into them, checking Ava. She’s out for the count.
I pull the door open a fraction.
Recoil when I see who’s calling.
I look over my shoulder to Ava before slipping out and pulling the door shut behind me. “What can I do for you?” I ask, my tone unfriendly. He can’t expect anything else.
He sways a bit, and I fear the worst. A flying fist, a yell, a threat. So when he says, “I haven’t given you a chance to prove yourself.” I find myself taking a wary step back.
I want to laugh, but instead I cough, disguising it. “Prove myself? What, to you?”
“Yeah.”
“There’s only one person in this world I need to prove myself to, and it isn’t you, Dan.”
He shrugs, pouting, rolling back on his heels. “And you’ve proved yourself, have you?”
I frown. “Did you come here to pick another fight, because it’s been a really fucking long day, and I haven’t the energy.” But come back in the morning when I’m dressed, fresh, and all our guests have left The Manor. I’ll happily fuck you up then.
“I just want her to be happy.”
“Does she seem unhappy?”
“Yes, actually.”
As much as it pains me, this arrogant prick is my wife’s brother and—ouch—he’s known her a hell of a lot longer than I have. But as deeply? I don’t think so. I think Dan’s too wrapped up in his own world to know exactly what’s going on in anyone else’s, including his sister’s. He’s just acting out. Letting his ego out to play. “Let me assure you of a thing or two,” I say, my hand clenching the doorknob. It’s that or Dan’s throat. Can’t do that. “My wife is perfectly happy.” A man does not need another man—brother or not—asking him if he can make his wife happy.
I’m surprised when Dan nods, albeit mildly. “Okay.”
The fuck?
“I think it’s time for me to crash.” He backs up, slowly but surely, glancing around the gallery landing. “This really is a nice place you have here.”
“Thanks.”
“Must be worth a few quid.”
“A few.”
He smiles. “Good talking, Jesse.”
Was it?He turns and wanders off. “Safe travels back to Australia,” I call quietly.
“Oh, Mum obviously hasn’t mentioned it,” he says, looking over his shoulder.
“Mentioned what?”
“I’m staying in London.” He smiles brightly and takes the stairs, again slowly but surely, and not because he’s under the influence. It’s because he’s relishing the shock I’m trying and failing to hide. He isn’t here to apologize at all. He’s here to piss me off. “So we’ll be seeing much more of each other.”
“Anything in particular influencing that decision?” I ask. Like... Kate?
“No, just fancied a change of scenery.”
Right. Sure. What the fuck isn’t he telling me? “You need to fix things with your sister,” I say, forcing a smile. I’ll take Dan’s arsehole behavior all day long. Will I let Ava? No.
I back into the room and shut the door. Brilliant. I get the pleasure for a little longer.
There’s something not right, something Dan’s not telling us.
But what?
And do I care? No. But Ava will, which means Dan’s now my problem too.