“More,” she cries out, pulling her knees up further, letting her ankles drop from my back.
“Fuck you’re tight,” I groan, her slick juices coating my cock causing my hunger to deepen even further. I want her. Can’t get enough of her. Ava consumes every part of me, and it sends a thrill through my body knowing she is mine.
Only mine.
Moving to her left breast, I suckle her nipple in my mouth until she is groaning and writhing beneath me, her body arching into mine. I am setting a brutal pace, nipping my way up her chest, sucking at her pulse point on her neck. When I reach her mouth, I devour it. Lips, tongue, and teeth. The two of us clashing together like thunder and lightning.
The kiss isn’t sweet. It’s animalistic and possessive.
Ava is meant to be mine.
“Oh, God.” She sobs when my thumb gently strokes her overstimulated clit. I want her to think of me tomorrow whenever she moves. I want her sore.
“Who owns your orgasms, Ava?” I whisper hotly in her ear, swiveling my hips. The tension is building in my balls and fuck I can’t hold back anymore. “Who owns you?”
“You do,” she breathes.
“What was that?” I pinch her clit.
“You do!” she cries louder. “Matthias.”
“Come for me, baby,” I pinch her swollen clit one last time, edging her over the cliff we are both hanging from. “Come with me.”
My balls pull tightly, my abdomen clenching. She curses, tossing her head from side to side as she unravels beneath me. The rhythmic pulse of her pussy sends me toppling off the edge with her. Her cunt creams my cock as I slide feverishly in and out. Her legs clamp around me as her orgasm sweeps over her again and again.
“Fuck, Ava,” I cry out her name as I explode inside of her. I thrust once more before I am completely lost to ecstasy.
nine
The night is restless.
Sleep evades me like a bad breakup in a small town. Still there but just out of reach.
Fuck, I miss Ava.
Her heart. Her soul. Her cunt.
Those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.
Sighing, I take a sip of the lukewarm coffee the new flight attendant sat down in front of me twenty minutes ago. His name is Roger, and he is about fifty years old, and completely temporary. I have officially hired him as a butler for the penthouse. Mia has been doing the job of two people for several years now without complaint but there is even further strain on her with Ava.
Dima is pouting at the back of the plane, his headphones lodged in his ears as he taps out a beat to God knows what. Roger, apparently, isn’t his type.
The plane is blissfully quiet as we take off from the private airstrip in London a few days after Kirill’s demise.
Ivan is staying behind to clean up the London faction. His father has awarded him the title ofPakhan.
Ourfather.
I have to keep reminding myself of that. We haven’t had much time to talk since Kirill’s death. We have all been too busy planning for what is ahead. The known and the unknown.
Known: Kirill had indeed been the one to start the Chameleon Agency.
Unknown: How Kirill became involved with a secret society.
Had he been approached prior to his start in human trafficking or was that what caught their interest? There are still too many unknowns when it comes to the egotisticalPotestas Omnis.
What a fucking ridiculous name.