Home > Falling For Ava (British Billionaires #2)(15)

Falling For Ava (British Billionaires #2)(15)
Author: Pamela Ann

Ava was still coming down from her orgasm high when I kissed her deeply as my hands busied themselves discarding my trousers and boxer briefs. Once my cock sprung free from clothing suffocation, I situated myself between her thighs. My hips rocked as I slid in against her silky skin while I kissed her more hungrily compared to the last time. She responded in the same manner—fervent and seeming out of control.

My cock reached its destination, nestling against the silky wetness of her cunt, sliding against its heat. I began losing myself into the frenzied sensation.

“You feel incredible…just fucking perfect.”

Her moans became my calling as my hips ground deeper into her, demanding her legs to part farther.

“I’m dying to be inside you, Ava.” My plea came out in a rush.

“Reiss …” she gasped, contemplating, “what are you doing to me?”

“I have to be inside you—this instant.”

“I can’t—not yet.” She took her hands off me, giving us a small breathing space before she sought my eyes with a distinct look I didn’t get to see often in the female population.

Did I do something wrong to make her hesitate? I wasn’t quite sure. Besides, she was the one who had instigated sexual advances, so it couldn’t be because she didn’t want me.

“Please, I beg of you,” I said as I pulled her back for a kiss, one she easily parted her lips for.

In between our kisses, she sighed before saying, “I’m a virgin.”

I paused before I looked at her, as if I was seeing her for the first time. How could one be so sexually aggressive and at the same time not have experienced it fully?

“Tell me that this is your poor attempt at twisted humor.”

She shook her head, not denying what she had previously stated. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you beforehand.”

Flabbergasted, it took me awhile to recover from her revelation. “It’s fine,” I tried to reassure her, hoping I could reassure myself, as well.

“Let me stroke you. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m being selfish,” she offered with an apologetic smile. She truly did seem like she was sorry about not warning me in the beginning.

But even though I was about to crack from frustration, I somehow found myself kissing her softly before I kissed her forehead. “Shhh, don’t look so sad. I’ll be okay as long as you are fine.”

“Seriously, let me help you, Reiss.”

She was adamant, and at this point, I didn’t want to keep teasing myself without seeing relief in a way that I had wanted. Besides, I was willing to wait if the outcome was the same.

“How about we do something else? We can watch a movie and cuddle in your bed …”

She raised her brow, glancing at me skeptically. “If you swear you won’t hold this against me, then yes, I’d love to watch a movie.”

God she was adorable as well as sexy. Perfect, she truly was.

“I swear I won’t hold this Blue Ball Syndrome against you, Ava.” I smirked as I plucked her bare bottom up and hauled it over my shoulders before I threw her on her fluffy, lavender-colored bed and tackled her lips one more time.

Chapter 11

After that night, we spent endless nights in her bed, eating, watching movies, and getting to know one another. Of course, I hadn’t halted our physical activities, though each time she wanted to do something to me, I immediately told her to stop. Ava would always appear to be offended, but it wasn’t necessarily because I wasn’t confident she could pleasure me, which she thought was the main reason behind my reluctance. That was far from it.

Truth be told, I was more frightened that I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back, and this easily breakable self-control I had been practicing since I had met her was on the verge of toppling. What then? What happened if I couldn’t control myself? I didn’t want to put her in a position where she’d be afraid of me. That was the last thing I needed. Besides, I was perfectly content catering to her and her alone.

That’s bloody right. Holly was out of the equation. I had to eventually let her go since Ava wasn’t so keen on having girls call when we were together, asking if I wanted to come to their homes and hangout. At first, I wasn’t onboard with the idea, but after I thought hard and pictured if things were reversed, I realized I’d demand the same thing. Therefore, after making a decision, I carried out her request the next day, eradicating the rest of the opposite sex from my contact list.

Since my personal life had gone underground and incognito, my friends had recently accused of me abandoning them for a new addiction. I hadn’t necessarily abandoned them, more like taking a mild hiatus from drinking and horsing about. And as much as I hated to admit it, Ava had become my addiction. There wasn’t an hour of the day I didn’t think of her. Even when I worked, I’d roam around the estate just so I could have a distant glimpse of her.

From time to time, she’d appear out of nowhere and say hello. To onlookers, she might appear cordial, yet her eyes told me otherwise. She loved to tease and see what she could get away with, and she used this advantage to the maximum.

Each day that passed made me realize how important she was in my life. Thus far, our heavily guarded secret was safe.

I wasn’t sure what came over me one night when I spontaneously blurted “I love you” out of the blue while she and I were trying to sleep. Right after I said the words, I realized the weight of them and how much they rang true to what I was feeling inside. I was in love with her, and I wasn’t ever going to take it back.

Ava hadn’t said a thing. Instead, she showed her response through her body, kissing and engaging me in endless antics that left tremors running hot all over me.

I fell in love with her in ways I had never imagined myself, the notorious serial dater, to be capable of. I was entirely hell-bent and obsessive over a woman who secretly loved glitter, a virgin who masturbated on a daily basis, had two left feet whilst dancing, backgammon and chess enthusiast, and an all-around chef in the kitchen.

Yes, I was hopelessly crazy about the fact that she made the best steak pie. I’m quite particular about them, but she brushed me off, stating she’d make me one, maybe even better than my mother’s. I thought her bluffing, although when she brought it to me one night, I salivated as I whiffed the scent of the freshly baked crust and the smell of scrumptious meat. To top it off, she did truly make the better one compared to my mum’s. I knew then the decision was done. I was hers.

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