2. The Couch
The silencebetween us stretches like a taut wire, ready to snap. I try to meet Alexander’s gaze, but he avoids my eyes. His focus shifts to the golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling, his brow furrowed. “We need to leave Port Haven,” he says, his voice tight.
“What?”
The world around me tilts on its axis like the ground beneath me suddenly becomes unsteady. No way. I close my eyes for a moment, a silent plea for strength. My lips press together in a tight line, “I’m not leaving,” I say.
My job, my parent’s apartment, Sarah.
“He’s coming for us, Ava. For you,” he grunts. His hand closes around mine, his fingers digging into my skin, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.
“Let him come,” I say in a shaky voice.
Do I mean it?
“Ava, listen to me—” He starts to speak again. His jaw tightens, and his eyes glisten with an intensity that makes my breath catch.
“I am listening!” I retort, taking a deep breath. “But if we leave, what then? He’ll find us, won’t he? He’ll hunt us down in another city, another country, another world.”
Alexander doesn’t answer, his jaw clenching and unclenching, a silent struggle playing out on his face. He stares at me, his eyes a storm of emotions, his gaze searching mine for some sign of agreement, some understanding.
“Don’t be stubborn,” he says.
“We fight,” I challenge, a spark igniting my eyes. “We find out who the Raven is. We beat him at his own game.”
Alexander turns his gaze towards the window, the cityscape a blur of lights and shadows. He looks back at me, a question hanging between us. “You want in on this?” His hand tightens the grip on my arm, his knuckles turning white. “You’re being reckless. This is not a game. I won’t let you get hurt.”
“I want in.” I nod, my pulse thrumming in my ears. I capture his hand, placing it against my chest, feeling the heat of his palm searing through the silk of my dress. The thrill of the chase, the adrenaline rush of facing the Raven, ignites a fire within me. A heat spreads through my veins like wildfire, ending between my legs.
“You’re not safe; if we start this, there’s no turning back.”
“Am I ever safe with Dexter and the Raven out there?”
He leans into my touch, a sigh escaping his lips, his body relaxing slightly. Slowly, he runs his hand up my thigh, caressing my skin. My insides start burning with a violent fire. He moves closer, his lips inches from mine, his breath warm on my skin.
“Move in with me, Ava.”
What?
There’s a plea etched in his eyes. My uncertainty battles with the need that consumes me, a fierce tug-of-war within my heart. What if he leaves again? He’s hurt me before, shattered and broken me. The shards of my heart had taken three years to heal, and still, when he came back, I was his —
Time doesn’t matter now, Ava. It’s just us.
My mind races a thousand thoughts an hour. I see the vulnerability in his eyes, the desperate hope between us. I’ve never seen him so raw, so exposed.
“I—I don’t know,” I manage.
“I know it’s a big ask,” he says, his voice husky, “But I need you, Ava. We need this. It’s for your safety, Ava. I won’t let you be alone in this city.”
“We need this?” I echo, my voice sharp. “You need this? What about what I need? What about the fear this is just another one of your plans until you move again?”
He flinches at my words, his face a mask of pain. “Ava, please. You know I would never hurt you again. I’m different now.”
“How can I be sure?” I demand, my voice tight.
He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “No, don’t even try to explain. I need time to think about this.”
I can see the disappointment in his eyes, the flicker of hurt. And yet, I can’t bring myself to say yes. Not without knowing, without being sure.
Can you ever be sure, Ava?
“Okay,” he says finally, his voice flat. He pulls away, and a wall is suddenly erected between us.
“I’ll be here when you’re ready,” he says, the words barely audible. Then, he gets up and walks towards the balcony, leaving me alone with the echo of his footsteps and the weight of my decision.
“I need some air,” he says.
I watch him go, my pulse thrumming in my temples. His words are a challenge, a promise. He’s right, we need this. I need this. I need him.
“Okay,” I say. The words are a prayer, a gamble, a leap of faith. He turns back, a glint flickering in his eyes. He returns to me. My pulse is throbbing, and my hand reaches out to his.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He smiles a genuine smile that lights up his entire face. A smile that melts away the doubts that have been swirling in my mind.
“Fuck yes,” he murmurs. He pulls me in, his voice a raw, urgent plea. He’s the Alexander I fell in love with - reckless, dangerous, and absolutely irresistible.
His lips crash down on mine, and there is a hunger in his kiss that both excites and frightens me. This kiss is different, deeper, wilder, and demanding.
I pull back, my breath catching in my throat. “What did you want to tell me before about your family?”
“Fuck that,” he growls, his voice rough, his eyes burning with an intensity that makes me tremble. “I need to get inside you. Now. You’re perfection, Ava.”
As his lips claim mine again, a flicker of something dark passes across his eyes, a fleeting glimpse of a different side of him. It’s a shadow, a reminder of the secrets he’s keeping, the darkness that lurks beneath the surface of his charm. But for now, I push that thought aside. I surrender to the intoxicating heat of his touch, ignoring the warning bells ringing in my heart.
His hands are on my clavicle, making their way down between my aching breasts. The warmth of his touch, the rough texture of his calloused fingers against my skin, makes me shudder. A gasp escapes my lips. The silk of my dress rustles against his skin, a delicate, sensual sound that heightens the tension between us. He runs his hands up and down my stomach, teasing me, making me arch against him, a desperate need rising within me.
His touch is a caress, a branding, a promise. He knows exactly where to touch and how to move his hands to send waves of pleasure crashing through me. The heat in my core is building, a slow burn.
He pinches my nipples between his fingers through the dress, a sharp, unexpected pain that turns into a jolt of pleasure, and a moan escapes my lips.
“Oh, yes, Alexander,” I murmur, my eyes locking with his, a fierce heat igniting in their depths. He needs this. I see it in the way his eyes darken, and his jaw tightens. And I need this.
He tears my dress in half, a sharp rip of silk, and growls in satisfaction at the sight of my exposed nipples, stiff and swollen from his touch. The air hangs with the scent of musk and something darker, something primal. I press my body against his.
He throws his clothes aside, his cock a hard, pulsing fist. The sight of him, so raw, so powerful, sends a wave of heat crashing through me. His hands grip my hips, pulling me closer, his voice a rough whisper in my ear. “You’ll take me in your mouth now, Ava,” he demands, a possessive gleam in his eyes, “And you’ll be a good girl and take all of it without complaining.”
He pushes me down on all fours, his other hand grabbing my hair, pulling it tight, forcing my mouth onto his throbbing length. The taste of him is raw and powerful, the scent of his sweat and desire intoxicating. I circle my tongue around the head of his cock, my body trembling with fear and excitement.
The world shrinks to just the two of us, the heat of our bodies, the taste of him, the throbbing rhythm of our sweaty bodies.
I gag, the sudden invasion of his flesh a jolt of unexpected rapture. He shoves himself deeper, his thick cock filling my mouth. The taste of him is exquisite.
Oh, yes.
He slams into my mouth again and again, his rhythm relentless, his cock thickening with each thrust. I try to pull away, but he pins me down, his hand a vise around my hair, his cock pounding against the back of my throat.
He pulls out abruptly, “Are you wet, Ava? Is your pussy ready for me?” He doesn’t wait for an answer.
I nod, my breath ragged, “I’m ready for you,” I moan with a wave of need.
He lifts me, his grip firm, his gaze locked on me. He turns me over, slamming his hand against my ass, the impact sending a sharp pain shooting through me. He thrusts into me, his cock a hot force hammering into me. I cry out, a blend of pain and pleasure, as he pounds into me again and again.
The only sound is our skin slapping together as he fucks me hard on all four.
“Oh, yes, yes,” I moan, my body arching against him, the feeling of his thick cock filling me up, the friction of my breasts against the couch fills me with delight.
“Be quiet,” he growls, his voice deeper, darker than usual, a warning. The thought of the Raven, of another man, hearing us, makes my blood run cold. My clit throbs, aching for his touch.
Fuck, this is hot.
He slams into me, a violent, unrelenting force. “I want to tear you up, Ava,” he growls, his breath hot against my ear, “You’re so damn wet, I can’t get enough of you. Fuck.”
His hand finds my clit, rubbing it with force, the pleasure sharp and raw. I grit my teeth, the pain a potent mix with the building pleasure, a storm of sensations raging inside me. His other hand, rough and demanding, tears at my nipple, but it only intensifies my pleasure.
He thrusts into me again, harder, deeper. He’s a whirlwind of need and power, and I’m caught in the eye of the storm. “Alexander— oh— shit—-fuck,” I cry out. My body is filled to the brink with delight and pain.
“You like that? You like being fucked senseless, being used by me?” he demands.
“Yes,” I whimper, my voice breathless, as I feel his weight crushing me, his cock impaling me forcefully.
He pushes two fingers inside my tight hole, a sudden, unexpected invasion that sets me off. My body tenses, the pleasure building unbearably.
As I detonate, my body convulses as pure, unadulterated bliss crashes over me, a tidal wave that leaves me breathless. I feel his hot, thick cum inside of me, a searing, pulsating feeling that explodes within my core. His hand, a savage, slaps my clit one last time, a final jolt that sends me spiraling into a vortex of colors.
“Ava,” he breathes, his voice a rough caress against my ear, “You’re so damn perfect.” His arms wrap around me, pulling me close, his body a warm, insistent pressure against mine. We tumble onto the soft carpet.
I lie beneath him, his weight on me, his scent, sharp and untamed, filling my senses. His words whispered against my skin are a symphony, not of music, but of primal and raw emotion.
I love him with a burning desire that can not be tamed. Ever.