The house was silent when they slipped inside, hearts pounding as though they were sneaking forbidden treasure home. Isabella led Ava straight to her room, the soft click of the lock sealing them into their own hidden world.
Isabella wasted no time—she pulled Ava close, kissing her deeply, her lips urgent yet full of longing. Ava melted against her, her hands clutching at Bella's blouse as if afraid to let go.
Isabella's voice was husky when she whispered against her lips.
"Can we shower together?"
Ava froze, her eyes wide. The thought painted her cheeks crimson, and she shook her head shyly, biting her lip. But Isabella only smiled—playful, patient, and yet burning with need. She kissed Ava again, softer this time, her fingers finding the zip of her dress.
Before Ava could protest, Isabella slid the fabric down slowly, deliberately, letting it slip from her shoulders like a secret being revealed. Ava instinctively turned her back, shy and trembling. Isabella's breath caught.
She stepped closer, chest pressed against Ava's bare back, her hands gliding along her arms as if tracing every line for memory. With one fluid motion, Isabella let her own clothes fall, skin meeting skin for the second time in one day without barriers. Ava shivered, but it wasn't from cold.
Without a word, Isabella guided her toward the bathroom. The moment the water cascaded down, Isabella pressed Ava gently against the tiled wall, her lips finding the curve of her neck. Ava gasped, gripping Bella's wet shoulders, her body arching at every kiss.
The shower turned into a dance of heat and water—Isabella's fingers tracing patterns down Ava's spine, Ava's nails dragging lightly across Isabella's skin, the steam thick around them as moans mixed with the sound of falling water.
Bella slowly went on her knees. Her gaze caught the proposal ring on Ava's finger, lingering there. She lifted Ava's hand, kissed the ring, then the palm—an unspoken vow passing between them before parting her legs open, revealing everything that belonged to her. She looked up at Ava who was struggling not to moan loud. When her eyes met Bella's, she looked away, shy. Bella smirked and went back to what she was doing to her.
She kissed her inner thigh, licking every part her tongue found. Slowly finding her clit circling with her tongue,teasing Ava to the maximum. Ava pressed her hand to her mouth to steady her breathing, her body trembling, her voice caught between pleasure and restraint. Isabella held her firmly, guiding her through every wave that overtook her. She squirted on Bella's face. Bella smiled and when her fingers finally entered her Ava moan Bella's name loud.
She took it slow at first and then increased the speed in seconds. Ava was shaking in pleasure grabbing Bella's hair tight.
By the time Isabella reached up to turn off the shower, Ava could barely stand. Her legs shook with aftershocks, her chest rising and falling in frantic rhythms. Isabella wrapped a towel around her with gentle hands, then lifted Ava's chin and kissed her—slowly, deeply—water dripping from their skin, desire and affection mingling in the space between them.
They stumbled back into the room, dripping, flushed, and hungry for more. Isabella laid Ava down on the bed with reverence, like placing something sacred where it belonged.
She hovered above her, lips brushing Ava's again, but slower this time—teasing, tasting, savoring. Ava whimpered softly, pulling Isabella closer, her fingers tangling in Bella's damp hair.
What followed was not hurried but consuming, a rhythm of touches, kisses, and whispers that set fire to their veins. Every brush of Isabella's hands across Ava's body pulled a sigh, every kiss deepened until Ava could no longer think, only feel.
The night became endless as their passion unfolded, waves of intimacy crashing over them again and again. The bed creaked beneath their urgency, sheets tangling around their entwined bodies.
By the time they finally collapsed, breathless and trembling, the room smelled of warmth and love, their hearts beating in the same rhythm. Ava lay on Isabella's chest, eyes heavy but lips curled in a smile.
"If this is a dream… I never want to wake up."Ava said softly, half-asleep.
Isabella kissed her hair, holding her tightly.
"It's not a dream. It's us."
And as the night wrapped around them, passion gave way to tenderness, their souls bound tighter than ever before.
…..
The soft rays of dawn slipped through the curtains, painting the room in pale gold. Isabella stirred, her arm stretching across the bed, searching instinctively for the familiar warmth she had fallen asleep with. Her fingers brushed against nothing but cold sheets.
She groaned, frustration surging inside her chest. Not again. This was the second time Ava had slipped away before she could wake up to her smile. Isabella rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling, her jaw tightening. She didn't like this at all. It felt like Ava was a dream that vanished every morning before she could hold on.
A sharp knock rattled against her door, breaking her thoughts.
Isabella dragged a hand down her face. "Come in," she muttered, her voice rough with sleep.
The door creaked open and Ruth stepped inside, her eyes full of quiet concern.
"Bella," she said softly, "your dad is requesting your presence at his office."
Isabella sat up, her heartbeat instantly uneasy. Her father rarely requested—he demanded. She nodded stiffly. "Okay. Thanks, Ruth."
Ruth lingered for a moment, as if she wanted to say more, but eventually gave Isabella space, retreating with a soft click of the door.
Left alone, Isabella exhaled slowly. Her stomach twisted with unease, but she forced herself up. In ten minutes, she was dressed sharply and standing at her father's office door.
For a moment, she froze. Memories flashed through her mind—little Isabella racing down the hall as a child, eager to burst into her father's office just to be near him. She used to love that room, love the way her father's smile would brighten when he saw her. But now, standing before the same door as a teenager, her chest ached with the weight of something different.
Déjà vu clung to her skin like ice. She took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled before turning the handle.
Inside, Adrian sat behind his polished mahogany desk, his expression unreadable. Her mother was perched on a chair at the side, her lips pressed tightly as if she was bracing herself for something she couldn't control.
"Sit," Adrian's voice cut through the air, cold and firm.
Isabella scanned his face, then glanced at her mother. Her heart pounded. What did I do this time?
She lowered herself into the chair, keeping her posture tall despite the storm brewing inside her.
Adrian didn't waste time. He reached into a folder and pulled out a stack of photographs, spreading them across the desk like weapons.
"Can you explain what is happening here, Bella?"
Isabella's breath hitched. Her eyes widened in shock as she stared at the images. Each photo captured pieces of her night out with Ava—the stolen glances, the playful closeness, and then… the kiss. The kiss that had set her entire world on fire.
Her throat tightened. "Dad…" She looked up at him, disbelief flooding her. "You are really ridiculous. You had someone follow us?"
Adrian's jaw clenched. His face reddened with fury as he slammed his palm against the desk, making her flinch. "Can you explain this?" His voice roared, louder than she had ever heard in her life.
For the first time, Adrian had shouted at Isabella. The man she once thought could never raise his voice at her was now trembling with rage. And before she could even recover, his hand lashed out—striking her across the face.
The sting exploded across her cheek, her head snapping to the side. Time froze. Isabella's breath trembled, her eyes wide in stunned disbelief.
Her mother gasped, rushing forward, grabbing Adrian's arm before he could raise it again. "Adrian! Stop it!" she pleaded, her voice cracking with desperation.
Adrian, still breathing heavily, pulled back but the fire in his eyes didn't fade. He regretted slapping her, deep down, but his pride refused to let it show.
Isabella's hand rose slowly to her burning cheek. Tears stung at the corner of her eyes, not from the pain, but from the betrayal. She turned to face him, her voice shaking yet firm.
"You want to know, Dad?" she said, her words slicing through the thick silence. "She's my girlfriend. And I love her. You want to take that too?"
Her mother gasped softly, her hand flying to her mouth.
Adrian's entire face contorted in disgust. He pushed the photographs toward her as if they were evidence of a crime. "Impossible, Bella. Impossible!" he roared, his voice echoing off the walls. He pointed a trembling finger at her. "You are disgusting. Do you even understand what you just said?"
Tears finally spilled down Isabella's face, but her jaw remained set. For the first time in her life, she wasn't a child cowering before her father's authority—she was a woman standing against him.
Her voice dropped low, trembling with both hurt and defiance. "Yes, I understand. I said I love her."
Her father's chest heaved, his breathing ragged with fury, while her mother stood frozen between them, caught in the ruins of a family that was beginning to fracture.