Ava’s brown-eyed gaze pings up to lock with mine, clouded with suspicion. She assumes I’m trying to fuck with her– which, to be fair, I usually am. Not a damn thing she can do about it, though.
“Like I said, you’re wound too tight,” I murmur, beckoning her with a lift of my chin and tapping a palm against my thigh.
I watch the silent battle she has with herself as she struggles with whether to comply, hands wrapping around the edge of the table. Her knuckles whiten as she grips it tightly, pushing up from her chair and begrudgingly starting toward me.
I shove back in my own chair to give us a little more room, swiveling in Ava’s direction and patting my thigh again in command. She keeps her gaze downcast as she shuffles closer, stepping between my spread knees and lowering herself down toperch on my thigh. I curl an arm around her waist, dragging her body against mine until her ass is resting right on my crotch.
Ava shifts her weight uncomfortably as she reaches up to finger the charm of her necklace again, flickering me a cautious glance. “Why do I have to wear this?” she questions, brows drawing in. “And why does everyone else know what it means?”
“You really wanna know?” I muse, trailing my knuckles up the side of her bare thigh.
She shivers beneath my touch, dipping her chin in a nod.
My hand cruises up higher, tucking beneath the hem of her skirt. Her muscles tense as I get closer to the apex of her thighs, the heat of her skin searing into my palm. “Don’t fight it,” I growl in her ear, “and I’ll tell you everything.”
Ava sucks in a little breath, but she doesn’t move away. She also doesn’t say a damn word. She just sits there, teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she struggles to keep quiet, letting me touch her.
I’ve been thinking about doing this all day, since I entered the kitchen to find her bent over the stove in a shitty attempt at making breakfast. Even longer than that, if I’m being honest. For weeks, I’ve been thinking about the way Ava reacted the first time we played with her, how she came so hard and so fast it was almost like she’d been starving for it all along.
I start stroking my fingers along her seam through the fabric of her panties, Ava’s breath catching as her body responds. She still doesn’t trust me, and she shouldn’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want her to. I want to break her down and build her back up to need me. To needus.
“Well?” she asks, her voice a strained whisper.
“Well,” I echo, feeling the heat radiating from her center as I slip a finger beneath the thin strip of fabric and tease her sensitive skin. “You have to wear the collar because it marks you as our Doll.”
I rub slow circles over her clit, her hips bucking involuntarily to chase my touch. The way she squirms and trembles in my lap is driving me insane, and I find myself leaning in to brush my lips against her ear, dragging her delicate floral scent into my lungs on a deep inhale. “Means you belong to us,” I rasp, nipping her earlobe.
“To you?” she grits out, struggling against the rising pleasure in her voice. Her breathing is uneven now, panting and soft, little gasps escaping her throat as she writhes in my lap. “Or to the Invictus?”
“Both.” I drag my knuckles along her seam, feeling how wet she’s getting, and her back arches into my touch. “But you don’t need to worry about the Invictus right now. The Kings have full reign of Corvus College, so for now, you’re just ours, Ava.”
I pull back slightly to look at her, watching the way her features twist in pleasure as I sink a digit inside her tight heat. She’s beautiful like this, completely vulnerable but still trying to resist. Her eyes flutter shut and I start pumping my finger in and out, reaching my thumb up to rub her clit. “You’re royalty now, baby girl,” I say, dipping my head and pressing my lips against her neck. “You should be grateful.”
“I hate you,” she whimpers as her body begins to tremble, but there’s no anger left in her voice, only the ragged edge of surrender.
“You sure about that?” I snicker, sinking my teeth into the side of her throat.
“I… I…” she pants, back arching as I rub her clit harder. “I wanna know about the Invictus.”
“What about it?” Ford calls from the living room, having abandoned his game in favor of watching the one unfolding in the kitchen. He flips his butterfly knife around in his hand as he rises from the sofa, catching it with practiced ease as he saunters toward us.
“It’s a secret society?” Ava asks breathily, squirming against me. “And you’re all in it?”
Raf glances over at us from the couch, taking in the scene with a neutral expression. “Yep,” he says, popping the ‘p’ and running a hand through his dark curls. He shifts his focus back to the TV screen, but I catch a flicker of something in his eyes before he does– something that tells me he’s not nearly as uninterested as he seems at the sight of Ava splayed out on my lap, hurtling toward climax.
Ava looks up at Ford as he comes to a stop in front of us. “When did you join?” she questions.
“We were technically born into this, but we were fourteen when we were officially initiated,” he replies, sinking his teeth into his lower lip as his eyes hone in on the movement of my hand beneath Ava’s skirt. “Lift that up, babe, I wanna see.”
I do him a solid, using my free hand to shove her skirt up to bunch around her waist, giving him a full view of what I’m doing to her underneath it. Ford’s pupils blow out, hand dropping to his crotch and squeezing.
“Fuck,” he groans, dropping to his knees in front of us.
Ava’s entire body tenses, her voice shrill as she demands, “What are you doing?”
“I want a taste,” Ford declares, grinning wickedly as he reaches forward to run his hands up her soft inner thighs. “Wes got to have one, it’s only fair.”
“What?” Ava chokes, squirming in my lap as if she could actually get away.
