Ava’s POV**

My mother went to bed early, complaining about a headache. The house fell quiet except for the low hum of the refrigerator and the distant crash of waves outside. I should have stayed in my room. I should have locked the door and touched myself again while thinking about him like the dirty girl I was becoming.

But I was thirsty. And restless. And aching.

I crept downstairs in nothing but an oversized t-shirt that barely covered my ass — no bra, no panties. My nipples were already hard, brushing against the soft fabric with every step. My pussy was slick, lips swollen from how many times I’d...