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29. You're Shaking
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Related chapters
Saving Ava 30. Show Me
The evening air hung heavy with tension as Carver unlocked the front door of their shared penthouse. The atmosphere inside their home mirrored that outside. Filled with an unspoken tension. Ava trailed behind him, her usual lively energy clearly muted. As Carver set the keys on the entryway table, he couldn't shake off the sensation that something was off.Dinner was supposed to be a fun casual affair. Peyton had joined them, enthusiastic about sampling Carver's culinary attempts. They sat down, a trinity at the dining table, their reflections mirrored in polished silverware and crystal glasses.Peyton attempted to lighten the mood with lively tales from the week, but even his animated recounting couldn’t cut through the thick air. Carver shot Ava another side glance, catching how she poked around her food without any real interest.Finally, Ava spoke up, a slight tremor in her voice. "Something happened at work today," she said. "Lana sent me on an errand to the basement."Peyton’s e
Saving Ava 31. HR
The neon digits of the clock blinked a weary 8:57 a.m. as Ava settled into her office chair. Morning light streamed through the blinds, laying stripes of shadow across her desk. The workday beckoned, a labyrinth of projects, meetings, and looming deadlines. But the overarching dread that loomed largest was Lana. The emotional residue from the night before still clung to Ava's psyche. Now armed with the knowledge of Lana’s past aspirations, to be a sub under Carver, no less, Ava felt like a soldier who'd glimpsed the enemy's battle plans. The realization sat in her gut, cold and weighty. Lana strode onto the marketing floor, her heels announcing her presence before she even rounded the corner. Her smile was a touch too rehearsed, her voice pitched in a frequency Ava now identified as calculated sweetness. "Ava, may I introduce you to Morgana? She's the head of HR," Lana said, gesturing to a woman standing beside her. Morgana had an air of distinct professionalism, but something in h
Saving Ava 32. Look At Me
The sun was sinking in the sky, casting long shadows across the road as Carver eased his sleek black car into traffic. Ava sat in the passenger seat, her eyes tracing the cityscape that blurred past the window. The radio played low, its melodies barely punctuating the silence that had settled between them. Carver glanced at Ava. Her eyes were unfocused, as if she were a million miles away. He could feel it, the tension in her shoulders, the way her lips pressed together in a hard line, unspoken words, unease. Her energy was a palpable thing, swirling in the space between them. Finally, she broke the silence. "Do you usually hire your subs?" Ava asked, her voice imbued with an almost acerbic curiosity. Carver's fingers tightened momentarily around the steering wheel. "She was already working in her current position when she applied," he said carefully. It was a fact, but it felt like an evasion. Her question hinted at something deeper, a suspicion, an accusation, something yet undefi
Saving Ava 33. Can We Explore?
Walking into their home felt like entering a sanctuary, a retreat from the external chaos that had whirled around them all day. Yet, as they stepped through the door, the weight of their earlier conversation seemed to have tagged along. In the living room, Peyton sat perusing some documents on his laptop, his demeanor deceptively casual. He looked up as they entered, his keen eyes catching the unspoken tension that fluttered between them. A wry smile tugged at his lips. "Why don't you two lovebirds just head upstairs and iron this all out?" he suggested, effectively cutting through the discomfort and getting right to the point. Ava looked at Carver, meeting his eyes in a moment of silent communication. She felt an inexpressible blend of frustration and desire. Of anger and longing. A cocktail of complex feelings she couldn't easily sort through. She nodded slightly, and without another word, they made their way up the stairs to their bedroom. As the door clicked shut behind them, C
Saving Ava 34. I Promise
Carver felt a rush of desire surge through him at her words, momentarily casting him in a chaotic whirlpool of excitement and anticipation marked by obvious arousal. He looked at her, feeling his pulse quicken, but then took a breath to ground himself. "We can take it slow, Ava," he said, his voice steady, "step by step." He walked to the closet, his thoughts a heady mix of arousal and caution. This was treacherous ground they were about to tread on. A landscape of both emotional and physical risks. The air in the room seemed to electrify as he made his way to the closet. He opened the door and retrieved a small wooden box. It was elegantly carved, but nondescript, its contents a closely guarded secret until now. As he carried it to the bed, Carver grappled with the chaotic mess of thoughts. He felt the intoxicating allure of the items in the box. Each one possessing the power to intensify their intimacy and connection. However, they also had the power and potential to distort or de
Saving Ava 35. Touch
The atmosphere in the room was electric, yet fragile, each movement a careful negotiation in the newfound territory they had just begun to explore. Ava looked at Carver, her eyes searching for answers to questions she had yet to articulate. Breaking the charged silence, she finally found her voice. "Why don't you like to be touched?" she asked, her words both cautious and filled with genuine curiosity. Carver looked into her eyes, taking a deep breath as if bracing himself to dive into turbulent waters. "It's complicated, Ava," he began. "When I was younger, my mother would often touch my face when she was angry. It was her way of establishing connection, but it felt controlling, invasive almost. Over time, being touched became equated with a certain vulnerability I didn't want to deal with." Ava's gaze softened, her eyes moistening ever so slightly. "Thank you for sharing that with me," she said, her voice a barely audible whisper. "I want to respect your boundaries, but I have to
Saving Ava 36. Not Powerless Here
As they lay on the bed, Carver looked into Ava's eyes and sensed a blend of excitement and hesitation. With deliberate movements, he began to lightly kiss and touch her body. Starting at her neck and tracing a path downward with his fingers and lips. Each touch tender yet filled with unspoken promises. He worked his hands over the terrain of her body, his fingers expertly navigating the valleys and contours of her soft skin. A moan escaped Ava's lips. The sensation was hypnotic, a lulling dance of pressure and release. Eventually, Carver's journey led him to her feet. He picked up one, then lowered his head, his lips planting a soft kiss on each one of her toes. Suddenly, he gently enveloped her little toe with his tongue. It was an unexpected sensation, and Ava bucked in response, the playful act pulling her fully into the present moment. That's when it hit her: her wrists were still secured to the bedposts. For the first time, the reality of her immobility slammed into her conscio
Saving Ava 37. Just To Clarify
Carver settled gently on the edge of the bed, observing the way the room's soft, ambient lighting cast a golden halo around her naked figure. She lay on the bed like a painting come to life—elegant yet deeply human. Her eyes met his, and there it was again: that indistinct pout, like a cloud passing over the sun. An obvious sign that something needed addressing. "Why'd you stop?" she questioned, her words carrying a trace of unspoken vulnerability. The pout deepened ever so slightly, a visual echo of her inquiry. Carver felt a flutter of something in his chest—guilt, maybe, or perhaps just the age-old dilemma of desire wrestling with caution. "Because I can," he replied, attempting nonchalance. But internally, he realized he'd probably stopped for his own sake just as much as hers. There was something dangerously intoxicating about this moment, about her. He recognized that if he didn't put on the brakes, he'd risk crossing lines that could cost him everything. He looked away from A
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Saving Ava 91. Control Rehab
Carver's laptop dinged, signaling a new email. He quickly opened it and started typing, his fingers flying across the keyboard. He was excited about what he was doing and that much was clear.Peyton was still sprawled out on their bed, unaware of the tension between Ava and Carver. The flicker of the camera’s light while she showered had rattled Ava, and Carver’s nonchalant dismissal... claiming it wasn’t him...had done little to comfort her.“Carver,” Ava said, sharper than intended. “I know I saw it. Why would the camera light be on if not for someone watching?”He didn’t look up immediately, focusing on the screen as he tapped away on the keys. “I told you, Ava, it wasn’t me. Maybe it’s a malfunction.”“A malfunction,” she echoed, skepticism threading through her tone. “How convenient. As you are sitting over there on the only laptop in the apartment with access to the feeds.”He finally looked at her, his dark eyes flashing with irritation. “There’s nothing to worry about.”“Then
Saving Ava 90. Peek
The journey back to the apartment was a testament to Carver's deteriorated state. His steps were unsteady, his body weak and battered. Peyton, with a firm arm wrapped around him, provided the support he desperately needed, practically carrying him the last few steps.Upon reaching the bed, Carver, exhausted beyond measure, collapsed face-first onto it. He made a feeble attempt to pull off his shirt, his arms reaching behind his head in a strained effort, but his energy was spent. Ava quickly assisted him, gently pulling the shirt over his head. Observing Carver's condition, Peyton declared, "I think it's time for another IV." He began preparing the medication, his movements efficient but careful.Ava stayed close to Carver, her fingers lightly tracing circles on his back. The sight of his injuries – the bruises, lash marks, and burns that covered his back, shoulders, and arms – was heart-wrenching. Each mark a painful reminder of what he had endured.Peyton, ready with the IV, gently
Saving Ava 89. New
After finishing the omelets, Peyton handed Carver a couple of pills, which he took without protest. They all moved into the living room, with Carver walking with difficulty. Ava, ever attentive, wrapped a blanket around him and helped him settle on the couch. Peyton, needing a moment to gather his thoughts, turned on the TV and sat in a chair, his mind still racing with the revelations and the situation at hand. Peyton, looking intently at Carver, broke the silence. "Okay, is there anything else you want to admit? Get it out right now, so I can start to get over this agitation," he said through gritted teeth. Carver paused, weighing his words carefully. "I... I changed my contract at Esmerelda's," he finally admitted, his voice low and filled with a sense of defeat and embarrassment. Peyton sat up straighter, his attention sharpened. "How exactly did you change it?" he asked, a hint of worry creeping into his tone. "I added intimate encounters," Carver confessed, avoiding Peyton'
Saving Ava 88
As they settled Carver in the bed, Ava began the task of undressing him. His jeans, the same pair he had been wearing when he first arrived at Esmerelda's over a week ago, were tattered and stained with blood. Carefully, she helped him into a pair of pajama pants and one of his T-shirts. It became apparent that Carver had lost a significant amount of weight; the shirt, which would have once fit him snugly, now hung loosely on his frame.“When was the last time you ate?” Ava asked gently, her concern evident in her tone.Carver’s response was faint, “I don’t even know.”Peyton, sensing the immediate need, headed into the kitchen to make soup, considering it the most appropriate and easy-to-digest food for Carver in his current state.While Peyton was away, Carver, with a sudden surge of energy, rolled over and pulled Ava into a tight embrace. As she held him, Ava realized he was burning up with fever. “You’re so hot,” she whispered, her worry growing.Peyton returned with the soup, and
Saving Ava 87
Carver's fever worsened, a clear sign that his body was struggling to cope with the injuries. The infections from the wounds were not properly treated, adding to his physical distress. His once muscular and resilient body was now a canvas of suffering, each mark a story of his descent into despair.Esmerelda, witnessing his decline, realized that Carver was on a path to self-destruction. His disregard for his physical well-being was alarming, but it was his mental state that worried her the most. He had become a shell of the man he once was, driven by a need to punish himself that was consuming him from the inside.The fever brought with it delirium, and Carver began to lose touch with reality. His moments of lucidity were few and far between, and during these moments, he was haunted by visions of Peyton and Ava. In his fevered state, he would sometimes speak to them, apologizing, pleading, and expressing his love and regret.As Esmerelda watched Carver hanging from the rack, his body
Saving Ava 86
Esmerelda's sharp rapping on the truck window jolted Carver awake. Blinking against the sunlight streaming through the glass, he saw her standing outside, her appearance strikingly different in the daylight. Gone was the dominatrix persona, replaced now by a more business-like demeanor."I can't have my patrons sleeping in their trucks out front, Carver," Esmerelda stated, her tone a mix of annoyance and concern.Carver, still disoriented from sleep, responded, “Well, I own the fucking building, give me a room.”Esmerelda paused, considering his request, before nodding in agreement. “Okay, fine,” she conceded. She led him inside the building, guiding him to her personal apartment. The space was unlike the rest of Esmerelda’s establishment; it was more reflective of her day-to-day life, less about her professional role.She pointed to the couch. “You can sleep there,” she said, her voice softer now, a hint of empathy creeping through.Exhausted, Carver collapsed onto the couch, his bod
Saving Ava 85
As Carver unbuttoned his shirt, the receptionist silently entered the room behind him. Observing the scene sternly, Esmerelda gave a slight nod to the receptionist. In response, the receptionist sharply smacked her clipboard against Carver’s bare back, chastising him for prematurely disrobing. "No one told you to do that," she reprimanded. Carver, startled, slowly rebuttoned his shirt, his gaze never leaving Esmerelda. He was well aware of the rule against making direct eye contact in such circumstances, yet he could not look away, a silent rebellion against the order of things. A quiet plea for more pain. Esmerelda informed the receptionist that Carver had chosen the 'unlimited' path for tonight's session. The receptionist's smile turned wicked at the revelation. Carver had never before given them such control, and the anticipation of what they could do with this newfound power was evident in her expression. Led through the new halls of Esmerelda's, Carver couldn’t help but notic
Saving Ava 84
Ava and Peyton navigated a tumultuous sea of emotions in the safe confines of Peyton's apartment. Each day of the week felt like an eternity, filled with moments of fragile calm, abruptly shattered by waves of distress and grief. Ava, usually so composed and strong, grappled with an overwhelming sense of loss and confusion. Her emotions swung like a pendulum, from moments of numbness to intense bouts of sorrow.During one particularly harrowing evening, Ava curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped tightly around her. Her face, usually full of life and warmth, was marred by the shadow of heartache. "I just feel so lost, Peyton," she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. "Like a part of me is missing, and I don’t know how to get it back."Peyton, sitting beside her, wrapped his arm around her quivering shoulders. His heart ached at the sight of her pain. "I know, Ava. It’s hard, it’s really hard," he said, his voice a mixture of empathy and determination. "But
Saving Ava 83
"I'm not sure I want there to be an 'us' anymore, Peyton." The sentence hung in the air, heavy with implications and sorrow.Peyton's breath hitched, his heart racing with panic. He gently held Ava back, searching her face for clarity, for confirmation of the fear that now gripped him. "Ava?" he asked desperately.Ava, seeing the alarm in his eyes, hurried to clarify. Her words rushed and filled with emotion. "No, no, not us. I want us, Peyton... I'm just not sure I want 'us' to include him anymore." Her eyes, red and swollen from crying, bore into his, conveying a steadfast love for Peyton, even amid the heartbreak.Peyton was speechless, the complexity of their entwined lives with Carver suddenly unraveling before him. He nodded silently. Pulling Ava back into his embrace, Peyton held her close, a silent oath to be her support and anchor in their lives raging seas. They lay together, wrapped in each other's arms, finding solace in their shared grief. Ava's sobs slowly subsided, but
