“That’s it,” I praise, expressing my approval
Avery’s saliva coats my cock, dripping pass her lips. Thrusting deeper, I fuck her mouth harder and faster, chasing the release she has promised me. Avery sucks in air, breathing through her nose, since my cock is currently filling her mouth.
Staring down at the sexiest fucking woman, I’m awed by the fact that she is mine. As if the need to prove I am equally hers, Avery tugs my sweat pants down to my ankles. Warm fingers gently stroke my balls and its pure fucking ecstasy for a few seconds. Then it happens.
My body goes into sensory overload, when Avery pushes her finger up my ass. I cry out her name as pleasure bombards me. I shudder violently, anticipating my release. However, I am not prepared for the eruption of semen shooting from my body. Avery sucks me hard, taking everything I have to give her. Her finger moves in and out my ass, causing a never-ending flow, filling her mouth with my seed.
“Fuck,” I groan when Avery removes her finger.
Avery’s tongue gently circles my cock before I pull out. I stare down at my soft overused aching cock and I wonder how I’m still standing. I meet Avery’s gaze and it’s the look that she gives me that drops me to my knees. No one has ever loved me so intensely, so selflessly, and so honestly.
My mouth collides against hers, seeking entrance, taking the good morning kiss I was denied. She tastes like her cinnamon toothpaste, coffee, and me. But all I can think about is how sweet the nectar is between her thighs.
I pull away, but still close enough that my lips brush hers when I whisper, “I need to taste you.”
“Lucian.” Avery whispers my name and my cock twitches.
Over the past four months I have tested Avery’s limits for pleasure, while conditioning her body to crave only to my touch, my words, and my cock. But it hadn’t crossed my mind until now that she has been doing the same thing to me. Whether it was intentional or not. My body craves her with a passion that grows by the day; it’s an addiction that threatens to consume me.
“Bed,” I command, helping Avery to her feet.
Avery doesn’t hesitate. Her kimono slips over her shoulders puddling at her feet. And I watch as her luscious ass sways from side to side. She climbs into bed and as fast as lightening I’m on her, pulling her hips toward me.
My eyes go to Avery’s breasts, heaving with excitement. Her nibbles are pebble hard, begging for attention. I give them a gentle flick and she shudders beneath me.
“Your breasts will have to wait. Rose Petal.”
Moving down her body, I spread Avery’s legs using my shoulders to nudge her thighs open wider. My mouth is inches away from her pussy, as I breathe her in. Her scent hardens my cock causing it to press into the mattress. When my greedy girl gets tired of waiting, her back arches off the bed and I give her what she wants. My tongue slides through her folds savoring the taste. When Avery pushes my head down into her pussy, I know she’s not in the mood to be teased. My mouth attacks her clit hard, sucking and biting her sweet little nub.
It takes me less than ten seconds before I have Avery screaming my name. I lap up the sweet juices flowing over my tongue and covering my lips with a hunger that will never be fulfilled.
Avery is running late when my mother arrives. We lost track of time, which happens often when we make love.
“I’ll go greet her,” I announce slipping my sweat pants and T-shirt back on.
“Like that,” Avery gasps.
“Like what?” I question.
“Like you’ve just had sex,” she whispers as if my mom could hear her from downstairs.
“Sweetness,” I chuckle. “My mom knows we have sex.
“I know, but...” Avery doesn’t finish her statement.
“If it makes you feel better I’ll try not to smile so much.”
“Now you’re just teasing me,” she pouts.
She so fucking beautiful when she pouts, I can’t resist her kiss swollen lips. Avery leans into me kissing me back before abruptly pushing me away.
“Oh no you don’t,” she says. “That kiss holds too much residual heat.”
I back away smiling, because she’s right. It only takes the smallest of sparks to reignite the flame that’s constantly smoldering between us.
“Get dressed and I’ll tell Mom you’re on your way down.”
I take my time descending the stairs. The hard on I’m sporting isn’t something I want my mom to see. My mom has made herself at home. She’s in the kitchen flipping through one of Avery’s magazines when I arrive.
“Hello, Mom.”
“Good morning, sweetheart.” She stands to greet me, kissing me on each cheek.
“Avery will be down shortly.”
My mother’s smile is warm and loving, when she says, “No hurry, the reservations will keep.”
I love that my mom has embraced Avery into our family in such a short time. I know firsthand how protective she can be of her children. I guess I inherited that from her... the fierce need to keep the ones I love safe. That’s what my mom did for me when she forced my biological father to give up his paternal rights. She must have known deep down that he was a no-good bastard. My only regret is that Avery was not spared from his brand of parenting.
“I spoke to Evelyn today.” My mom’s voice brings the present into focus. “She’s looking forward to going home tomorrow.”
“That’s wonderful news.”
“What’s wonderful news?” Avery asks as she enters the kitchen.
“Evelyn is being released from the hospital tomorrow.” I share.
“Yes, it is.” Raina just text. She said Evelyn has already started planning a family dinner to celebrate.
Although Avery is overjoyed about Evelyn’s recovery, I can tell she is nervous about having brunch alone with my mom for the first time. I try to reassure her, with a kiss to her forehead as I walk them to the door.
“It’s going to be fine,” I tell her.
“What if she doesn’t like me?” Avery whispers.
“She already likes you.”
The driver opens the back-passenger door for my mom and she climb in. I walk Avery down the steps to the car. I kiss her goodbye before opening the other back passenger door.
“See you soon,” she says as I close the door.
Soon after my mom and Avery have gone, I leave to tend to some errands of my own. With only three hours to pull my surprise together, I have no time to waste.
WHEN I RETURN TO THE beach house, Avery is nowhere to be found. Searching the house from top to bottom to no avail, I begin to panic. Then anxiety conjures all sorts of reasons to explain why she’s not here. She’s running late. She’s been kidnapped. The one thought I fight to keep out of my head has my heart pounding in my ears. She has left me again.
I push my fear aside for rational thinking. Retracing my steps takes me back to the kitchen. The breath I didn’t know I was holding escapes when I find Avery’s note.
“It’s a lovely day for a walk on the beach, come find me.”
A shit eating grin spreads across my face, relief floods my heart, and nervousness is replaced with certainty. She has not left me.
I hurry out the front door, leaping off the porch in my pursuit to find Avery. She is walking leisurely along the beach when I spot her. She’s wearing a white strapless sundress, but my lovesick brain sees a totally different white dress when she turns and walks toward me. Quick strides carry me forward, meeting her halfway. My arms circle tightly around her waist when she leans in to greet me with a kiss.
“You found me,” she moans against my lips.
“Always,” I say simply, acknowledging to myself that I will always find her no matter what.
The sun pales in comparison to the glow in Avery’s eyes, made more radiant by her smile.
“Did you have fun hanging out with my mom?”
That’s not the question I intended to ask, but nonetheless, I want to know if the women in my life get along with each other
. I know that Avery and Katelyn are close. Katelyn understood why Avery left and didn’t blame her even though she witnessed how it nearly ripped my heart out.
“It was nice getting to know her. And getting to know you through her eyes.”
“Did she reveal any embarrassing childhood secrets?”
“Only one,” Avery teases.
Taking Avery’s hand, I lead her down the beach.
“And what secret would that be?”
“She told me that you believed you were invisible if you closed your eyes and walked backwards.”
“In my defense, I was only three years old at the time.”
“So, you were adorable even then?”
“I don’t think adorable has ever been used to describe me.”
Avery’s laughter is infectious, and I find myself laughing with her.
“There are many words to describe you, Mr. Thorne.”
All of a sudden, I want to hear the words she would use to describe me. Knowing how she feels about me is always a boost to my ego. The same ego that has been battered recently. Even though I haven’t asked, Avery must sense that I need to hear the words.
“There’s no doubt that you are sexy, absolutely brilliant, self-assured, and protective.” Her assessment has me smiling from ear to ear. “You’re all those things and so much more.”
“Miss. West, you sound as if you’re besotted.”
“Besotted is inadequate but okay.”
This time I’m intrigued so I ask, “And what word would you use?”
“Mine,” she says. “It’s become my favorite four letter word.
“Mine too.”
We continue walking hand in hand along the beach. After about a quarter mile Avery stops and takes a seat in the sand.
“This is a good spot,” she proclaims.
“For what?” I question.
Avery grabs my hand, pulling me down on the sand beside her.
“To enjoy the view.”
Staring out at the ocean, the water seems to sparkle under the bright sun.
“Let’s get these shoes off.”
Avery removes my Brioni slip-on sneakers. And my toes flex against the soft sand. With the sun beaming down on us, Avery and I turn our attention back to the ocean view. A surfer catches a wave then wipes out. In the distance a yacht sail by. And a family of four builds a sandcastle.
Our time on the beach was relaxing. But being with Avery is what makes this place paradise. We sat on the beach for an hour before heading back to the house.
There’s a package on the front porch when Avery and I return from our walk. Wrapped in brown paper the box is addressed to Avery. I immediately become suspicious, because only our family and closest friends know that we’re staying at the beach house.
Inspecting the label, Avery asks, “Is this another gift from you?”
“No. I have no idea what it is.” Avery doesn’t miss the concern in my voice.
“Let’s see what’s inside before we imagine the worst.”
I nod in agreement. We enter the beach house and head to the kitchen. Avery uses scissors to cut through the seam of the package. Removing the items from the box, Avery places them on countertop. There is a video tape and a manila envelope. Avery dumps the contents of the box and envelope, photos, a note, and a memory card used in cameras falls out.
“What the fuck!” I shout, my anger getting the better of me. “If someone is trying to fucking blackmail you, they’ll fucking pay.”
Avery rests her hand on my chest, reading the note. The innocuous touch soothes the beast only this beauty can tame.
“I’m not being blackmailed,” she assures me. “Read the note.”
I read the note looking for clues as to who might have sent it. I must have read it five times before turning to Avery.
“According to the note this is everything the police recovered.”
“Do you think Enzo sent it, since he no longer works for NYPD?”
“No, he’s too straight and narrow. He wouldn’t steal evidence, especially from an open investigation.”
Avery scans the photos, visibly cringing after each one.
“You don’t have to do this. It’s over, so he can’t hurt you ever again.”
“I do. I need to see for myself. I need to decide if should return them to the police.”
Avery and I look at the photos one after the other. Each time she came across a photo that was upsetting, she set it aside. By the time we’re finished, thirteen of the seventy-one photos are lying face down. Photos of me and Avery making love on the beach. The same photos that were sent to my cell phone weeks ago. I mistakenly assumed that Samantha had her lacky, Fields, take them.
“He lied to me. Detective Turner said there was nothing in the photos or on the video that would cause me shame,” Avery accuses. “Oh my god! The video.”
Avery races out of the kitchen to the living room. When I reach her, she is loading the disc into the Blu-ray player. She waits impatiently for it to start. The screen comes to life and the timer indicates approximately forty-five minutes of recording. I take a seat beside Avery and she reaches for my hand. We sit in silence for half an hour, watching a psychopath’s rant. The next fifteen minutes of the recording reveals Sullivan’s depraved plan to rape Avery again and record the whole thing. Avery’s hand tightens around mine, when she hears the perverted way Sullivan describes his nonexistent relationship with her. Avery loosens her grip on my hand when she appears on the screen. Its’s footage from the day she confronted him.
I watch the last five minutes barely breathing. Suffocating with anger and disgust. Anger that Avery went to face the motherfucker alone. And disgust because the sonofabitch ever existed at all. My body tenses, squeezing Avery’s hand, when Sullivan pinned her to the floor, tearing open her shirt. I can clearly see the fear in her eyes. I lift Avery’s hand to my lips, rejoicing when she finds the courage to fight back. I recognize when she makes the choice to kill Sullivan. When the shots are fired, Avery holds her breath even though we know the outcome.
“I’m going to burn everything,” Avery announces.
“I’ll get the matches.”
We make our way back to the kitchen. Gathering the box, the photos, the note, the memory card, along with the disc we head outside. It takes us a few minutes to get the fire going. Holding hands, we stand together watching as the last remnants of Sullivan goes up in flames.
“I wish I could burn away the fact that he was my first.”
Avery’s words are filled with lingering shame. Shame that does not belong to her.
Pulling Avery into my arms, I tell her the truth. “He was never your first. That would imply you had a choice.”
She smiles up at me. “I can live with Chris being my first,” she says.
So can I.
AVERY AND I ARE HEADING out to dinner when I get a text message.
Operation lighthouse is on schedule.
The ridiculous code name makes me laugh. Helen, my personal assistant, insists on the name, so I indulge her. She has been invaluable, helping me plan a memorable night for Avery. A memorable night for us.
“Where are we going?” Avery asks as she descends the stairs.
When she reaches the last step, I take her hand in mine, pressing it to my lips. With my free hand, I reach into my pocket, pulling out a blindfold.
“If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
“This had better be a spectacular surprise,” Avery says, giving me her back.
Covering her eyes, I secure the blindfold behind her head. Avery’s small intake of breath has my cock twitching against her back. My head drops of its own violation, dragging my nose down the length of her neck. I breathe her in, unable to resist her mouthwatering scent. Avery moans, spurring me on. My mouth covers the bare skin at the curve of her neck and my tongue darts out for a taste. Scraping my teeth along the tendons of Avery’s neck and shoulder, I lick and suck her like a bloodthirsty vampire.
>
I’m rock hard and breathless when I manage to pull myself way from Avery. I have more than a quick fuck at the bottom of the staircase planned for us tonight. Taking her hand in mine I lead her out the door. Once I have Avery buckled in the passenger seat of my Mercedes AMG GT, I round the front to climb in the driver’s seat.
The drive is pretty much a blur. But that doesn’t matter. The destination is all that counts.
We’ve visited Montauk Lighthouse twice before, each time more memorable than the last. But tonight, far away from city lights, on a moonless night with no clouds in the sky, the universe seems to be telling me that we have an extraordinary memory in the making.
Parking close to the path leading to the lighthouse, I forgo the parking lot. I’m sure Avery will appreciate the shorter distance considering the heels she’s wearing. Once I’ve helped her out of the car I remove the blindfold. Avery is facing me when she opens her eyes.
“Montauk?” she asks, referring to the historical lighthouse.
Without responding, I turn Avery in my arms so she’s now facing the lighthouse. Avery gasps when she sees the lights. The lighting has been modified to cater to my needs. Anything resembling Christmas is gone for tonight. Taking Avery by the hand, we follow the lights up the path to the lighthouse.
“The lights are different,” Avery surmises, gazing up at the tower.
“Are they?” My nonchalant respond piques her curiosity.
“What are you up to, Mr. Thorne?”
“Surprising you, Miss West.”
The memory of the last time I surprised her with a visit to the lighthouse comes flooding back in great detail. It was at the beginning of our relationship, and we were already dealing with a crisis. I was thrown for a loop to discover that my biological father was the man who adopted Avery. The same man who ultimately was responsible for the tragic turn her life took. It’s still hard for me to fathom how our lives have intersected since our first meeting ten years ago. Now, in just four short months, I can’t imagine my life without her.
I don’t want a life without her.
“Where did you go?” Avery questions. “I thought I lost you for a moment.”
Inseparable Bond Page 15
