Divinely Living (Surviving Series)

by Courtney Cross

  “Do you trust me, Ava?” he said in a low voice. “In a physical sense I mean. Do you trust me to take care of you and only push you as far as your boundaries will allow you to go?”

  I nodded without thinking about or questioning his statement. Emotionally the distrust was still there hanging over me like a persistent dark cloud that would not fuck the hell off. Physically, I had complete trust that he would never take more than I was willing to give freely.

  The finger placed between the soft partings of flesh began to lightly rub against the small opening making my body quiver in nervous anticipation. My mind spun in a whirlwind of mixed emotions as he continued the stroking sensation that should have had me screaming in sheer terror, but didn’t. I found my back arching in response to his touch, my heart thumping painfully as a slow burn infused within my core. I moaned softly as he pressed gently against my back entrance, the tip of his finger barely penetrating the area that had been so viciously defiled against my will. Shudders of pleasure tore across my skin as Jonah’s tongue traced the curve of my spine from the nape of my neck to my lower back before pressing a firm kiss on each cheek of my ass. “You have the most delicious rear, Ava.”

  “Jonah,” I whispered. “This is dangerous territory for me.”

  His hot breath skittered across my skin as he spoke. “Tell me to stop and I will. Tell me not to stop and I won’t.” His finger pressed harder, nudging the tip deeper still. “I’ll fuck you anyway you want me to sweetheart, but fucking your arse, fucking away the memories that make you afraid to say yes, that would be the ultimate confirmation of your trust in me Ava. You can’t possibly fathom how much I need that right now.”

  I tensed as his finger delved further into the tightness. He felt foreign, uncomfortable but shamefully erotic; in ways I never thought I would be able to experience. Fear fringed the pleasure, a fear embedded far into my damaged soul. A chill seeped through my tired bones and dread oozed into my stomach as he continued to apply pressure in attempt to gain entry. My throat tightened and chest burned as my lungs became depleted of air. The first signs of anxiety rose within me as memories of Alex, and that night and the aftermath, swept like paralysis through me. “No more, Jonah,” I panted as breathing became more difficult. “I can’t go there. Not even with you.”

  “Shit, Ava, I’m sorry.” Concern weighed heavy in Jonah’s husky Irish voice. Instantly his finger was removed and strong arms were pulling me into his heated torso. Shakes rippled through me as ice cold remembrance threatened to pull me under. Although it had been some time since my last anxiety attack, a side effect of my rape that plagued my existence ever since, the first signs were unmistakable. The last time one had struck, the only cure had been Jonah. I needed him to provide that same solace, and remedy now, before the memories grabbed hold and dragged me down into that dark, desolate place I never wanted to be taken to again.

  Rolling to my side, I threw my arms around the neck of the man who could keep me from the darkness and clung on. My lips found his with force, my tongue delving into his mouth with unrelenting need. He groaned loudly as I wrapped my leg around his waist and pulled him closer, his now hard cock hot against the lips of my sex. I whimpered as the head brushed against the soreness of the slick flesh surrounding my clit as he gripped my ass and sought closer contact.

  “Fuck it away, Jonah, God, just fuck me please,” I begged against his lips. Every nerve ending I possessed screamed for his attention, pleaded to be touched and fucked by the only medication I had ever found that could erase the memory of Alex and the torment that came when I remembered.

  A firm hand slipped between my open thighs and two fingers slipped inside the wetness of my sex with ease. “Christ, you’re always so ready for me,” Jonah hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes closing tightly as he gently slid both fingers in and out of my sex in a slow, tantalising rhythm. “Fuck, Ava,” his voice was almost a croak, “You’re full of me, and I can feel my come mixed with yours clinging to my fingers.”

  Urgency pricked at me, the pending anxiety attack showing no signs of relenting any time soon. “I don’t have time for seduction and sweet talk,” I urged while placing a hand around his bulging cock. Moaning deeply as I slipped my hand up his shaft, tugging on his foreskin, he flexed his hips while in my hold. He felt heavy, hot and hard as rock in my palm, primed and ready to fuck. I shuddered with desire, the need to lose myself in the way only he was able to make me, rocketed my libido to that pivotal point where the race to seek sanctuary became the main focus. Guiding his cock towards my greedy opening, I sunk my teeth into his bottom lip and revelled in the growl he gave in return. “Now Jonah.”

  With a roll of his hips, his hardness tore through the lingering soreness from the previous night and morning’s arduous sex session and claimed me with one hard thrust. His mouth clashed with mine, our tongues mimicking the motion of our bodies as they slid against each other. The dull throb within my breasts was partially soothed as his hand found one of them and squeezed hard. Moaning loudly, I matched his rhythm as we rocked against each other, the sweet tang of pain with each push as he filled me to full capacity edging me closer to release. The scent of sweat and hard sex hung dense in the air as he fucked me to the point I needed and sought. As his thrusts intensified, all thoughts of anything but the man fucking me closer to orgasm disappeared and the almost shield of numbness to all sensations and feelings other than Jonah inside me, slid easily into place. I opened my thighs wider, allowing him deeper penetration as the slow burn of ecstasy began to smoulder within my groin. A hand fisted my hair, holding my head in place as he groaned into my mouth before kissing me with bruising force. “You always feel so damn good,” he whispered across my swollen lips, his hand leaving my hair and banding around my small waist, clutching me closer. “You always make me come so hard.”

  In one swift movement he fell onto his broad back so I was straddling him. Pushing himself into a sitting position, the overwhelming feeling of fullness as we sat nose to nose, connected in the most intimate way a man and woman could be, the pain of being filled to my limit made me gasp loudly. “Hush,” he whispered across my lips, fisting my hair in both hands and setting his azure irises firmly on me. “I know it hurts to take all of me baby but I need you to. Feel me, Ava, feel all of me. I love you so much, bear the pain and let me love you.”

  “God, Jonah,” I breathed as I gazed into the insanely handsome face of the person who could rip my soul to shreds with the fewest of words.

  Rubbing his nose against mine before kissing the tip, his hands withdrew from my long locks, an arm supporting my spine, the other pinning me onto his cock by the waist. Slowly he began to move, bucking upwards into me, his cock using the wetness of my sex to enter and withdraw in fluid slides. Placing both my hands on his shoulders, I pushed up on my knees and descended his full length until he was balls-deep, within me. Repeating the motion over and over, my core tightened and every muscle within my groin clenched down hard as I moved closer to orgasm. Sensing I was close, Jonah arched my back, angling me to his preferred position as my sex widened to give him deeper access. I screamed his name as his fingers found my hardened clit and massaged, pushing me over the edge and crashing to release.

  “Jesus,” he hissed as my juices ran freely, drenching his cock in come and offering him an easier, slicker passage. Gripping my hips fiercely, he locked me down; the swell of his cock signalling his own release was imminent. I pulled him close, his pants of pleasure flowing across the skin of my throat as he fought to reach orgasm. His back muscles tensed beneath my hands, his body stilling in rigidity as the orgasm tore through him. Unable to move, the flood of semen spilled into me with brutal force, overflowing from my sex in vast amounts. His head fell to my shoulder, the sweat beading his forehead mingling with my own as he attempted to control his harsh breathing. My fingers tangled through his damp hair as I pressed a kiss to his temple and said with such conviction it shocked me. “I love you Jacobson.” And I knew w
ithout a hint of doubt, I meant every one of those three little words.

  <><><><><><>

  A torrent of scorching hot water reigned down on me, as I stood motionless under the shower. Usually after sex with Jonah my mind was clear, my demeanour relaxed and my soul fully sated. This time felt different. Despite the soreness between my thighs and ache in my muscles and feeling as satisfied after love making with Jonah as I had from day one, something was wrong, I could feel it. Doubt still stabbed at me. Confusion still ate away at me. The pain of discovering his deceit still clung to my heart, placing a barrier between the two of us that I had no idea was there until now. I loved him, craved him and wanted him. That much still remained. But that small voice in my head that constantly doubted his intentions and questioned his motives began to heighten in volume instilling unease and distrust.

  He may have answered partial questions and offered basic answers to my probing, but the biggest question of all still remained. What the fuck did Benjamin Jacobson want with my money and why the hell did he feel the need to have Jonah do his bidding? Jonah’s reluctance to tell me why only reinforced what I had begun to suspect. The truth would probably be more than I could handle, more than I could take. And in his warped sense of protection towards me, Jonah’s failure to relieve the doubt by confessing all was achieving the opposite. The more he clammed up, the more I surmised and that was only heading for disaster. I knew me, knew how I handled situations that were difficult for me to process, self preservation kicked in, and those closest to me paid the price. My natural instinct was to shut down, close myself off from the world and sink into a place of dark numbness that I always thought sheltered me and offered me comfort. Events of the last few months told me that instead of helping; they served as nothing more than a temporary delay tactic, which, when I eventually had to deal with the issue, the impact proved to be worse than if I had just dealt with things head on. Burying my head in the sand simply didn’t work for me anymore. Pretending that being alone, relying on no one and remaining emotionally detached was no longer the way I wanted to live. Jonah had not only awakened my sexual needs but also invigorated my soul, opening me wide to pain and suffering as well as love and human warmth. After living a life filled with empty, deprived hurt, barely surviving the traumas of my past, he had injected a new way of living that seemed almost divine at times. Divinely living compared to barely surviving was beyond what I could have imagined and now I had tasted it, held it in my hands, I couldn’t allow myself to regress into old ways and cave to old ingrained habits.

  Turning off the shower, I wrapped a large towel around my tingling body and stepped into the steam filled shower room. Running a comb through my dripping wet hair, my eyes were drawn to the young, red haired woman staring back at me through the mirrored wall behind the vanity worktop. It always amazed me how similar in looks I was to my mother yet inwardly, although I shared some of her genetic flaws, we were poles apart. Gina Matthews Dawson had been emotionally deficient as a mother, seeking money and position rather than her only daughters love. The emerald green eyes gazing at me were hers, the long auburn air hers also. My petite, slender figure, ample breast size and distinctive high cheekbones were also inherited from her gene pool. Emotionally we shared a sense of loneliness and disparity at times, which is definitely where the similarities ended. I realised that now. Gina had been incapable of love for anything other than dollar bills and the lifestyle they paid for. Her driving need for wealth overshadowed my need for a mother, leaving a void in my life from childhood I had never been able to fulfil until now. I couldn’t allow myself to walk her path, live her life. And if that meant laying myself bare and accepting the bad alongside the good then so be it. In order to grow, I had to let people in, even if doing so made me vulnerable and susceptible to disappointment and failure. That meant trusting those in my life, believing in their intentions and offering them the same traits in return. Trusting Jonah had to involve complete honesty, something lacking from our relationship at present. The only way to scale that hurdle was for his ass to start talking, no more stalling with sex, and it needed to happen sooner rather than later.

  My cell phone rang loudly, its ring tone echoing around the room, interrupting my train of thoughts. Glancing at the caller ID, the name showing told me this was a call I needed to take

  “Greetings from Chicago, gorgeous,” my mood lightened instantly as the deep voice of my best friends’ brother vibrated down the line.

  “Hey Cameron, greetings from St. Tropez,” I replied with an enthusiasm in my voice which Cameron Collins always brought out. After inheriting millions and an international company from my deceased step-father that I neither expected nor wanted, Cameron had agreed to fly to Chicago on my behalf and report back to me regularly on the goings on and workings within the company I was now, unwillingly, CEO of.

  A.M Enterprises meant absolutely jack shit to me, never had. I had no idea what the company did or how it was run and in all honesty had no care to find out. After convincing myself that I had to at least face up to the fact that I now owned a company that traded globally and was a means of income for hundreds of people, asking Cameron to use his business qualifications, experience and background in helping me deal with what lay ahead of me had proven one of my best ideas to date. He flew to Chicago the day after Charlotte and me had left for Paris and his regular updates and reassurances that he was dealing with the situation and things were running smoothly and as planned, proved him being there had been a wise move. The Collins family were renowned back home in London for their business acumen and fruitful dealings so accepting their freely offered support and advice, although something I wasn’t used to doing, made me so glad I actually had.

  “What have you been doing with your pretty little arse while I’ve been slaving away over here, whipping your company into shape?”

  His witty banter and unique way with words made me smile broadly. “Hey, I’m the boss; I pay your ass to deal with business while I play.”

  “Play uh? Is there something or someone I need to know about?” His question, although seemingly innocent, reeked of suspicious curiosity. I bit my lip as thoughts of Jonah, naked and sleeping in the next room filled me with a sense of guilt. Cameron was thousands of miles away taking care of things at my request while I was in St. Tropez, basking daily in the sun and had just spent the night fucking the man who broke my heart, leaving Cameron and his sister Charlotte, also my best friend, to pick up the pieces. Leaving Jonah out of the conversation seemed the best way to go just then.

  “Of course not,” I lied, hating myself for doing so. “I’m sure you’re having way more fun than I am.”

  “Oh yeah,” he blew out, “If you call dealing with grumpy as fuck shareholders who see me as nothing more than a spy for a CEO they feel as no right to run their company, then shit I’m having a ball.”

  “They’re right to feel that way,” I agreed. “I have no right to run their company. That, together with the fact that I have no interest in running it, doesn’t make me a good CEO candidate. Are they really giving you hell?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” he chuckled. “And you have all the attributes of a damn good CEO, you just don’t realise it yet.”

  His faith in me made my heart swell. Cameron had an uncanny habit of doing that. He seemed to make it his mission to build my self-confidence and raise my usually low self-esteem. It was another trait that made him one of the few people, men especially; I had decided recently to surround myself in as frequently as possible.

  “Why do you do that?” I questioned.

  “Do what?”

  I sighed heavily into the receiver. “Always make me out to be better than I am. I really don’t deserve such praise Cam.”

  The line fell silent, an uncomfortable silence that was unusual between the two of us. “Cameron, are you there?”

  Clearing his throat he paused before answering. “I hate that you have no idea how special you are Ava, how special you are
to me.”

  Unease settled upon me as his tone told me there was much more meaning to that statement than I wanted there to be. Cameron was my friend, my confidante and my best friends’ brother and telling myself I was reading way more into his words than they had been intended, I replied brightly. “Okay so I’m special. There I said it.” I hoped my attempt to derail a seriously deepening conversation would work. “Anyway, less about my self confidence failings, tell me how things are really going.”

  As if sensing my need to bring the call back to it’s intended meaning, Cameron proceeded to relay his findings since we had last spoken and how although his presence within the company had been an uncomfortable one at the beginning, the shareholders, directors and employees now seemed to accept him with less suspicion. Briefly skirting over operational information he knew I had neither any inkling about nor enthusiasm for, so kept his information clipped and direct. From the information he did divulge, it seemed all was well with the company and although management hadn’t totally warmed to Cameron being around, their knowledge of the business and dedication to their jobs was keeping the day to day running as smooth as possible. I was so grateful for all he was doing, something I informed him of frequently during our call but knew his involvement could never be more than temporary. Cameron was the joint head of his father’s very successful property business within the UK and Europe and undoubtedly his services would be required there imminently. The time would come when I would have to face my gifted burden and deal with things alone. The selfish side of me just hoped that would prove to be much later rather than sooner.

  “Anyway, it’s ten past three in the morning here and I need my beauty sleep,” Cameron yawned loudly as he finished his report.

  “Oh god I’m so sorry, I forgot the seven hour time difference between France and Chicago.”

  “Hey, forget it,” he assured with another yawn. “There’s no time of day or night off limits to you, gorgeous.”