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Chapter Eighteen
publish date:
2026-09-17 11:55:55Ava’s POV
“I didn’t even notice it,” I said. Corren turned fully toward me in the back seat of the Maybach. The privacy partition was already raised. The city moved past the tinted windows in a soft blur of glass and steel, but the inside of the car felt sealed off from everything else. His eyes moved over my face with slow, deliberate attention. “You are lying to me,” he murmured. “I swear I didn’t notice it.” He didn’t answer right away. Instead he reached out and cupped my jaw, thumb resting just beneath my lower lip, holding my face steady so I had no choice but to meet his gaze. The air between us thickened. I could still smell his cologne, clean and expensive, mixed with the faint scent of the new clothes folded in bags at our feet. Then he kissed me. It was not soft. It was deep and controlled, his mouth claiming mine with the same quiet authority he brought to everything else. I made a small sound against his lips and he answered by angling my head further back, tongue sliding against mine until my fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket. The kiss went on long enough that my breathing turned uneven. When he finally broke it, my lips felt swollen. He did not pull away far. His hand left my face and moved down, finding the neckline of the cream dress. He tugged the soft fabric aside with practiced ease, exposing one breast to the cool air of the car. For a moment he only looked. Then he lowered his head and took my nipple into his mouth. The heat of his tongue dragged a sharp breath from me. He sucked slowly, deliberately, the pressure firm enough to send sparks straight down my stomach. My back arched slightly against the leather seat. He switched to the other breast, peeling the dress further aside, and gave it the same focused attention—licking, sucking, scraping his teeth lightly until both nipples were tight and aching. I bit down on my lower lip to stay quiet, but soft sounds still escaped. His hand slid beneath the skirt of the dress. I felt his palm move up my inner thigh, warm and certain. He pushed my underwear to the side without ceremony. One finger stroked through the wetness that had already gathered there, and a low sound of approval left his throat. “Already like this,” he said against my skin. He pressed that single finger inside me. The stretch was slow and exact. He worked it in and out with steady control, watching my face the entire time. My hips shifted against the seat, trying to take more. He gave me more—adding a second finger, filling me thicker, curling both until he found the place that made my thighs tremble. The wet sound of his fingers moving inside me filled the quiet car. My hand gripped his forearm. My breathing turned short and broken. He kept the pace deliberate. Not rushed. Not gentle. Each stroke of his fingers pushed the heat higher, spreading it through my stomach and down my legs until I was lifting my hips to meet him. My head fell back against the seat. I could feel how wet I had become by the easy slide of his fingers and the way my body clenched around them. The tension coiled tighter and tighter, every nerve focused on the exact way he touched me. I was close—horny, open, desperate for him to keep going. Then, without warning, he withdrew his hand. The sudden emptiness made me gasp. Corren sat back against the seat, expression controlled, and calmly adjusted the neckline of my dress, covering my breasts again. He smoothed the skirt down over my thighs as if nothing had happened. My underwear remained displaced. The ache between my legs pulsed, sharp and unfinished. The car began to slow. Corren glanced out the window, then back at me. My face was flushed. My breathing had not yet steadied. He looked at the state he had left me in—wet, aching, visibly unsettled—and the corner of his mouth lifted by the smallest degree. The Maybach came to a stop. Without another word, he opened the door and stepped out of the car, leaving me alone in the back seat with the taste of his mouth still on my lips and the unbearable throb of what he had started still pulsing between my thighs.
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Her First Time With Daddy Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ava’s POVThat night I slept like a baby.For the first time in quite a while, my body gave in completely. The exhaustion from the day—the school, the cafeteria conversation, the drive home, the way Corren had carried me and taken me in his room—pulled me under as soon as my head touched the pillow. No restless turning. No half-awake thoughts circling the same conflicts. Just deep, unbroken sleep that lasted until the sound of my bedroom door opening cut through it.“Small madam, you are late to school.”The maid’s voice was urgent but carefully controlled. I sat up fast, heart already racing, and looked at the time on my phone. She was right. I had overslept by nearly forty minutes. The calm of the night before vanished in an instant.I threw the covers aside and moved quickly. In the bathroom I brushed my teeth in hurried strokes, splashed water on my face, and ran a comb through my hair with little concern for neatness. There was no time for the careful preparation of the previous
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Ava’s POV“It was cool,” I said.The words came out softer than I intended. Corren’s eyes remained on me through the rearview mirror for a moment longer before he looked back at the road. He did not ask further questions. The silence that followed was heavy but not empty; it carried the weight of everything he had not yet decided to say. I sat with my bag on my lap, the navy dress still neat from the day, and tried not to think about the young man in the cafeteria or the way my pulse had reacted to ordinary attention. The closer the car drew to the estate, the more those thoughts were replaced by the familiar tension that always arrived when Corren’s presence filled the space around me.The gates opened. The car moved up the long drive and stopped at the front entrance. Corren stepped out first, then came around and opened my door himself. His hand settled at the small of my back as he guided me inside—not roughly, but with the same quiet ownership he always used. The staff remained i
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Ava’s POV“Yes,” I said.The word left my mouth before I could fully consider it. He set his tray down across from me and sat with easy confidence, as if the invitation had never been in doubt. Close up, the resemblance to the young man from the courtyard settled more firmly into place. The same clean features, the same polished ease. Whether he was exactly Sebastian Langford or only someone who moved in the same circles, he carried the same atmosphere of money that never had to introduce itself.“I’m Ava,” I said, because silence felt more dangerous than politeness.“I know.” He smiled slightly. “You introduced yourself in class. I’m the one who didn’t.” He offered his name a moment later—clear, unhurried—and then asked what had brought me to the program mid-term. I gave the simplest version I could manage: a change in living situation, a decision to return to classes. He listened without interrupting, eyes steady on my face in a way that made my pulse jump once before I controlled i
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Ava’s POVI stood still for a moment after the car pulled away and simply looked at the school.It was no ordinary school. The main building rose in clean lines of glass and pale stone, the kind of architecture that belonged more to a private corporate campus than a place of classrooms. Wide steps led up to a set of heavy glass doors. Perfectly maintained lawns stretched on either side, and a row of expensive cars sat in the student parking area beyond the main walkway. Even the air felt different—quiet, polished, and carefully controlled.As I walked toward the entrance I began to hear the conversations around me. Two girls near the steps were comparing summer trips—one to the Amalfi Coast, the other to a private island I had only ever seen in magazines. A boy in a tailored jacket laughed about his father’s new jet and the crew that came with it. Someone else mentioned a charity gala where the cheapest table cost more than most people’s monthly rent. The comments were casual, almost
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Ava’s POVI went back inside my room with the coffee still warm in my hands and the maid’s frightened voice still clear in my ears.The realization from the kitchen followed me like a second shadow. Corren did not need to be standing in the doorway to enforce his rules. The entire household already moved according to them. Even the simple act of making coffee before sunrise had been enough to put someone else’s job at risk. I set the cup down on the table by the window and stood there for a moment longer, looking out at the gardens without really seeing them. The power he held was no longer abstract. It was in the walls, in the staff, in the quiet fear that lived under every polite interaction.I pushed the thought aside as best I could and walked into the bathroom.The water ran hot. I stepped under the spray and let it pour over my shoulders and down my back, hoping it would loosen the tight feeling in my chest. It only partially worked. My mind kept moving between the day ahead and
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Ava’s POVI went inside my room not happy that we didn’t say anything and also happy that I am resuming school tomorrow.The door closed behind me with a soft click that felt louder than it should have. I stood still for a moment in the middle of the large bedroom, the silence of the west wing settling around me again. Dinner had ended without a single real exchange. Corren had eaten, stood, and left. No glance that lasted longer than a second. No instruction beyond the final one about school. The distance he had placed between us sat in my chest like something solid. I disliked it more than I wanted to admit.At the same time, tomorrow was real. School. A driver. A schedule that would take me outside these walls for the first time since I had arrived. The thought sent a thin current of nervous energy through me. I didn’t know how the school would be in this place—whether the other students would look at me and see someone ordinary or someone who arrived each morning from a private es
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