Avery's Game Of Revenge
Chapter 106: Real Man.

Chapter 106: Real Man.

[Music Recommendation: CHIHIRO by Billie Eilish.

"Hey..." Avery’s greeting came out in a slur, and that, apart from her red face, was all Archie needed to confirm she was drunk. Very drunk, at that. This was so, very unlike her.

"You are back," her second attempt at speaking was what attracted Archie to the underlying tone of sadness in her voice.

Quickening his steps to close the distance between them, his facial expression morphed from one of relief and adoration to that of annoyance, flickers of fury dominating his eyes. Now that he was near, he could see that not only was her face red...her eyes were too, and swollen.

"Who hurt you?" he whispered, his hand slowly leaving his side to wrap around the wrist of her hand holding the wine bottle. As he expected, she let it go immediately, giving him the chance to check the alcohol by volume content of the drink, his eyes darkening at what he saw.

He looked up and met her eyes; her usually empty eyes—since the incident—now filled with...pain.

He hissed, his tone assuming a low octave that screamed danger, enough to terrify even the drunk Avery, "Answer me, Ava. Who hurt you, uh? Were you hit?" His voice rose, "Insulted? Who the fuck caused this, damnit?!!"

"I...Nobody. Nobody hurt me," she stuttered, attempting to step away from him only to be pulled back immediately.

"Then why did you cry?"

"I...That was... I visited them today," she whispered, "Arthur... and the rest."

Archie’s grip loosened on her arm, realization slowly dawning on him. Instead of letting her go, however, he pulled her closer into a tight embrace, one of his hand tightening around her waist while the other went around her shoulders as if he was trying to morph their bodies together.

"I missed you," he gave the response that came to him, with an icy whisper.

"I miss them," was Avery’s reply. Inhaling short wisps of air as if to steady her breathing, she continued, "At first I was only sad...but then, it became painful and then...i couldn’t endure it anymore unless I cried. The tears took it all away, both the pain and the sadness...until they stopped coming. I had to find a way to force them..."

Archie listened with an emotionless expression as she explained it all, his face only showing a hint of life when she came to the point minutes later, "...then I found the cellar."

He pulled back to stare into her eyes, a wave of protectiveness overcoming him at the myriad of emotions he saw—pain, sadness, regret, fury—each fighting to take it’s place in them; in her beautiful eyes.

"Did it work?" he asked.

She shook her head slowly in reply, lifting her head up to meet his eyes as he pulled away from the embrace.

"I hate that look in your eyes," he whispered, "Tell me what to do to erase it. Anything."

Avery gave a hollow laugh, her expression looking more pained than earlier when she stopped.

"Anything? Can you bring them back to me? Arthur? Emma? Grandpa?" she scoffed, "Or no...i need just one of them. Not all. Just for a few minutes or even seconds; can you? Can you bring them?"

"I can’t," Archie admitted, his blue eyes flickering with indecipherable emotions as his hand tightened around her waist,"You want to cry, don’t you? That’s the way to reduce the pain you’re currently feeling...but the tears aren’t coming and the wine isn’t working?" he asked.

Avery nodded, shutting her eyes and reopening them to see a mischievous smirk starting to form on his lips. He looked...different, and suddenly, she was aware of the close proximity they were sharing. His palm felt like hot coal against her bare waist and did...did his thumb just rub against her lower back?

"Don’t be sad..." His voice, deep and heavy with desire, drew her attention back to his face; where wet tendrils of his hair pressed against his forehead, projecting a messy outlook. He continued, "I happen to know a way to make you cry and keep you distracted from the pain...at the same time," he said.

"R—Really? You know..." Avery stuttered, unable to tell him the pain was leaving already. His warm palm pressing against her, and his fiery gaze fixed on her had already done the job of distraction. He didn’t need to do anything else.

But she kept her lips zipped up. Maybe a part of her was really eager to see what he planned on doing.

"Wanna try it, _mama_?"

She gave a small nod of approval, slowly but firmly and the next thing she knew...his gaze lowered to the robe in her hand.

"Discard that," he ordered, her hand voluntarily obeying him. Her grip loosened on the robe and the red, silk fabric fell to the ground.

Then he was pushing her to the wall, pressing her back against the hard surface while making sure he was maintaining eye contact with her.

"I should—"

Archie bent, cutting her off and taking the rest of the words from her bright red lips with his own lips. She tasted like...wine. Expected, since she had been drinking it just now. He kissed her hard. Desperately. Enough to distract her and careful not to show his desire for her; tonight wasn’t about him or her.

’It’s about easing the pain in her,’ Archie chanted inwardly, as his lips tangled with hers, willing himself not to get distracted by the moans that filled the hair; begging for something more than what he wanted to give right now.

He broke the kiss, his hot tongue licking down the side of her face to the shell of her ear where he bit down.

"Don’t you want to know what I’m planning to do?" he murmured, as he moved down to her neck to create another hickey, his eyes flaming in desire at the sight of his art on her body.

Avery replied with a small moan, and he pulled away to see her face, only to see she was biting down on her lips. Trying to keep the moans in; he presumed.

"Good luck with controlling yourself," he chuckled, his voice lowering by a pitch as he reminded, "I promised to help you cry, so keep in mind that we aren’t stopping until you do exactly that."

A challenging look glimmered in her eyes, drawing his attention to the fact that the pain in her eyes had completely disappeared and was now replaced by desire...want.

"What...are you planning to do?" her voice drew his eyes to her swollen lips, while his thumb caressed the spot on her neck where a proud hickey sat.

He took off his glasses and hanged it on a forgotten lamp stand hanging directly above her head. Avery’s eyes followed his hand, her gaze lingering on the glasses even after his hand already left there. When she looked back down, he wasn’t in front of her.

No, he was. He just wasn’t standing in front of her.

He was kneeling, his bare face—without the glasses—sending a tingling feeling down her belly. He was looking straight at her like she was...

"You asked what I’m planning to do?" he broke into her thoughts, and she nodded in reply.

"I plan to eat the pain out of you."

His voice and words conjured a series of images in Avery’s mind, prompting her to let out a loud gasp.

"Arch..." she gulped.

"You know what, Ava?" he asked, ignoring her call. "It’s said that a real man makes your panties wet...and not your eyes. What do you think of me now that I’m doing both?"

Finally averting his gaze from her inviting, though blurry, face, he leaned into her thighs, inhaling deeply as he dragged his tongue along her skin. Feeling her leg weaken under his grasp, he held her waist up with one hand and helped her out of her shorts with the other, his eyes boring into the wet patch in her panties.

Half of his job was done.

She already cried down here; her eyes were the only ones left. It was only a matter of time before that happened too.

"Avery," he called, feeling her pulse spike beneath his thumbs as he let out a low chuckle.

It was his first time to ever call her that, directly, and damn! Her name was beautiful, just like every other part of her was.

He was just the one who didn’t deserve her.

He leaned closer, lifting her two legs up, one unto each of his two shoulders until her core was directly in front of his face. One second was all it took to get the single piece of fabric obstructing his view from her dripping core, out of the way, with his bare fingers.

Then he dove in to take a wet, long...lick.

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