Chapter 8 Ava: Gala (IV)

[WARNING: Mature Content]

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If someone had told me that, mere days after that incident with Todd, I'd be in a similar situation with a stranger and enjoying the fuck out of myself, I would have advised them to check in to a psych ward. That's not how trauma works.

But apparently it might.

Maybe it's just because he's so… Tall. Dark. Handsome. All the cliches you can dream, that's him. Especially when he makes no secret of his attraction toward me, despite all the harsh words Jessa and Mom had thrown my way while getting ready. Apparently this man doesn't think I'm too short, or that my hips are too wide.

He seems to like them a lot, actually.

So when I feel his tongue against my neck and realize that the sensation is completely different coming from someone like Tall, Dark, and Sexy, that primitive part of me goes absolutely wild.

That voice inside of me, the one that's absolutely me, tries to tell me that maybe I should step back and think for a second. That this connection is weird. That I don't act like this, and I should really respect myself more.

But the throbbing down below tells that voice to shut the fuck up and move over, that he's my fated, and then it asks him to slam me against a wall.

I have no idea where that level of bravado came from, and when my back hits the rough bark of the tree to add more bruises to my body, desire floods everything in a way even romance novels hadn't prepared me for.

Oh sweet baby Jesus in a manger. Sweet Moon Goddess. This man is magic.

Feeling the hard length of him shoved against the very core of me should have me running for the hills, and it doesn't. Nope. I arch closer instead, aching and begging for more, peppering kisses along his jaw and rolling my hips toward him.

I moan in appreciation when he pushes back, almost inside me if my damn panties could just spontaneously combust and get out of the way, but the moan changes to frustration as his hips pull back.

Then his fingers are there, yanking my panties to the side as he slides his cock up the wet lips of my pussy, and oh my God.

So warm.

So hard.

and fuck

Please.

biting and suckling everywhere. I know I'm going to have marks all over my neck and shoulders, and my breasts ache to be touched, but everything's kind of busy on my lower half

and down again, soaking himself in the juices I can feel running everywhere. I'm probably wetter than a slip'n'slide, and in my haze of desire, that doesn't seem embarrassing at

I whine, loving the rumble of his growl as he slams his hips into me, rubbing

as his hand returns to my hair, yanking my head back in an act of submission that should have turned me off. Instead, I eagerly presented my neck, hoping he would

Hurt me, please. Fuck.

body twitch and hum as I rock against him harder, the pain doing sinful

sent so far over the

as he sucks

and groans, something warm spreading against my abdomen. I can feel the sharp

slow and my limbs grow heavy as the normal part of me

to stalking me out here. Someone who

want him to. I

Oh, my God.

can feel my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I just let a complete stranger dry hump me against a tree, and I liked it. No, I loved

can, despite the semen sticky against my abdomen. He does his best to pull it back into place and smooth out

so loving, that it makes my heart ache in a way I've never

halfway, desire tingling down my spine once again, as though I hadn't gotten it out of

His phone.

into his pocket to retrieve the offending

he says, his

call. My mind is still reeling from what just happened, and I

telling me to stay, but my brain is screaming at me to get the hell out of here. Plus, I need to run—in general. He'd mentioned me coming with him before we had, er, connected

am, and oh my God, he's the alpha of the

belated recall of his introduction when he returns, his expression unreadable. He takes my hand

Oh my God.

is no magical connection after all. This is

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