All Novel Romance
Passenger Princess: Chapter 24
My knees bend a bit, and my free hand moves under Ava’s ass before I stand up straight, lifting her off the ground and moving toward the wall behind her. Instantly, her legs wrap around my waist on instinct, as if even her body knows this is how it’s supposed to be.
I thought I was in my head.Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.
I thought she was just gorgeous, and we were around each other too much, because there is no way this all-consuming attraction I feel for Ava is anything more than convenience or in my head.
Then she kissed me, and that theory was thrown out the window.
Now, I need more.
I am so fucked.
But I can worry about that another time. Any other time.
Right now, I press her back against the wall, her face right in front of mine now that we’re on more even footing, her lips brushing against mine as I whisper, ‘This is how it works, Ava. I kiss you. Every time, I kiss you, and I do it in a way that you can never forget what it’s like to be kissed by a man wholly and completely obsessed with you.’
It’s a confession of sorts; the answer to all of her prompts about whether I like her and her constant teasing that I’m learning is just her way. Each time she asks me, bugging me about liking her, I have to force myself not to say, Yes, I like you, Ava. I more than like you—I’m fucking obsessed with you, and I can’t seem to do a single thing without you on my mind.
Ava Bordeaux is the first thing I think about the moment I wake up and the last thing I think about as I’m falling asleep, and it has nothing to do with my need to protect her. Not even a little.
My hand on her jaw tips up her face to better angle it, and I dip my head down, letting my lips graze hers gently. She sighs into the kiss, a sound that goes straight to my dick, and I use it to open her lips, slide my tongue into her mouth, and taste her.
Bubblegum. She tastes like fucking bubblegum. My pink princess, who drives me up a fucking wall, tastes like bubblegum, and for a moment, I wonder how she tastes everywhere else.
When her tongue comes to touch mine, dancing with it, battling for dominance, it’s like our everyday interactions but in a kiss: sugary sweet with a hit of fire.
It makes me hard, makes me want—no, need—more, so I move closer, pinning her more fully between the wall and my chest, my cock grinding into her center at this angle.
‘Oh, god,’ she whispers into the kiss, and what I would fucking give to hear her make that sound naked beneath me as I fuck into her.
‘You’re fucking perfect,’ I groan against her lips, my teeth nipping and then sucking to soothe the bruised skin. Then I trail my lips down her neck, sucking and tasting her gently as I do. She’s an addiction—the sweetest dessert, the most potent liquor—and I’m already drunk on her.
‘Fucking weeks, teasing me in your sweet little outfits.’ I nip at her neck and she moans again, bucking against me, tipping her head to the side to give me more room to work with.
‘Teasing me and telling me I’m into you when all I want to do is do my fucking job and try to forget how much I want you. You know how much I want you, though, Ava, don’t you? You’ve known since that first day. I’m shit at hiding it.’ My tongue runs up the skin of her neck before I bite her earlobe. Her hips are moving now, a gentle rocking against my hard cock.
‘I want you too,’ she whispers, a plea.
‘I know, Princess. Fuck, do I know. I don’t know how much longer I can resist you.’ I suck at her neck, moving and nipping, being sure not to stay too long in one spot, because even in my heightened state, I know not to leave a hickey on the pageant queen.
My hand slips down her side, then back up until I cup her breast, my thumb swiping over the raised spot of her nipple before pushing the cup down. ‘Oh, god,’ she groans into my ear, and I grind my hard cock into her again, living for how she continues to rock on me, attempting to get some kind of friction. ‘More, please.’
My mouth moves back to hers, tasting her before I pinch her nipple, rolling it, and drowning in the yelp she lets out as I do. Her breasts are perfect, filling my palm with tight pink nipples I’d give anything to suck on right now, her body responsive as I play. I start contemplating ways to get her to the bed, what I’ll do next, how—
Then my phone beeps with a text, probably the coordinators asking if we’re heading downstairs or if there’s an issue, and I come back to myself.
We shouldn’t be doing this.
We have places to be, people counting on us. We both have a job to do.
Still, I slow the kiss instead of pulling back, unable to end it completely.
No matter if this was a good idea or not, I don’t regret kissing Ava.
Not even a little.
My hand grips her ass one last time, squeezing the perfect globes I’ve been watching much too often for someone simply protecting her before I loosen my grip, letting her slide down my body, fighting the groan as I do.
Looking down at her, her lips all swollen, lipstick nearly gone, I almost change my mind. I almost send a text to the coordinator saying Ava has food poisoning and we won’t be able to come today, instead choosing to make Ava come in my bed all day long. But I know more than anything, Ava is hardworking and doesn’t like to disappoint people.
Even though she’d enjoy herself, she’d regret not doing what she’s here to do. So I press my lips to hers once more, whispering, ‘That is how this works, Ava.’ Then I step back, holding her waist until she finds her footing, fighting a smile as I watch her waver a bit. Once she does, I step back again, fighting back a groan as I catch the pink nipple of her full breast out of her top. Reaching over, I gently grip the cream fabric of the bra top and tug until she’s covered again.
She lets out a low mewl as I do, like the feel of my fingers barely grazing her skin is bliss in and of itself, and I realize I need to leave this hotel room before things get out of hand.
Stepping back, I take her in one last time—face flushed, lips swollen, eyes wide—and commit it to memory before I reach out and wipe the side of my thumb along her lower lip. ‘Go fix your lipstick, Princess. I’ll wait for you in the hall.’