Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
She loves it.
She screams my name, the sound ripping through the quiet house like a promise.
I'm so lost in her, I can't breathe. Every muscle in my body is wound tight, my heart pounding for her.
"You aren't the only one who dreams, Ava. But this is better than every dream I've had of you," I choke out.
Her whole body tenses, her thighs trembling where they're locked around my hips. She comes undone, spasming and sobbing and burying her face in my throat as she rides out every second of it.
I grip her hips, holding her steady, and fuck her through it, pounding her so deep I know she'll feel me tomorrow. I want to hear her scream my name again. I want to know she can't think of anything but me.
She obliges, clawing at my back, her teeth scraping my jaw as another orgasm slams through her, even harder than the last.
I feel her break, so open and trusting and wet for me. The sound she makes when she comes again—this helpless, wrecked little moan—does something to me I can't even put words to.
I let go, driving into her until I see stars.
I come so hard I lose all sense of time, of place, of anything that isn't her. It's so goddamn good it hurts.
I collapse on top of her, my face buried in her neck, breathing her in. I don't want to move. I want to stay right here, wrapped around her until the goddamn world ends. But I roll us onto our sides so I don't crush her.
I don't let go, though. I can't. Not now. Not ever.
Chapter Seven
Ava
"Do you really dream about me?" I ask Dawson as we snuggle in his bed, his arm thrown over my waist like he intends to keep me prisoner right here forever. I'm not objecting. If I'm honest, there's nowhere else I'd rather be.
"Yeah," he murmurs, brushing his lips against my shoulder. "I dream about you far more than I should probably admit."
I process that for a moment. "Does it bother you?"
He crooks a finger beneath my chin, craning my head back. When I resist, he growls softly. "Look at me, Ava."
I reluctantly lift my gaze to his.
"The only thing that bothers me is the fact that you'd turn me down cold if I tried to put a ring on your finger right now," he says, deadly serious.
I choke on a breath, staring at him in shock. "W-what?"
"You heard me, sweetness," he says.
"Dawson, you don't…"
"Mean it? I do," he murmurs, stroking his thumb across my bottom lip. "But you don't want the world judging you, and I get that, baby. I really fucking do. Had I met you before our parents fell in love, maybe shit would be different, but that didn't happen. So, if this is all I can have, I'll take it. And I'll thank God that I get this much of you. It's more than a motherfucker like me deserves." His eyes drift to my lips. "Who knows? Maybe one day, you'll say fuck the world and let me put that ring on your finger. I'm willing to wait, even if it takes forever."
"Dawson," I whisper, burying my face in his throat to hide the tears in my eyes. I'm not sure why I even feel like bawling. Perhaps it's because, for the first time, I'm realizing he doesn't just want me in his bed. He doesn't just dream about fucking me. He's in love with me, the same damn way I've been in love with him for the last year. And he's kept it to himself all this time, because he thought that's what I'd want.
He knows me. He knows my fears and anxieties, perhaps better than I do. And he's still here anyway, willing to hide just to have any little piece of me.
He wraps around me, holding me like I'm the most precious thing in the world to him. "This is enough," he sighs, like he's the most content he's ever been.
He's wrong, though. It's not enough. We've already spent a year hiding what we want, even from each other. Now, we're here, and we're still hiding. Can we really do it forever? It's not fair to ask that of him. It's not fair that we live in a world where people care more about our business than they do their own.
He drifts off with another sigh, his arms still tight around me, but I lie awake for a long time, unable to settle. I can't get past his confession and the truth behind it. He loves me enough to hide the truth for me.
And I think… I know I love him too much to ask him to do it.
He wakes me up before dawn with his face between my legs, eating me to an orgasm. Before I can even come down, he's inside me again, fucking me so deep I feel him in my soul.