Novels by Ava Sterling

The words “I love you” hung in the air long after Draven had slipped out of Freya’s room that night. She lay awake until dawn, staring at the ceiling, her body sore in the most delicious ways and her heart a chaotic storm. Love. From Draven Cross. The man who had been larger than life since she was a teenager. The man who was married to someone else. The man who was her father’s best friend and business partner. It should have felt like a dream. Instead, it felt like the beginning of the end.By morning, the guilt had settled deep in her bones, but it couldn’t touch the warmth that spread through her whenever she remembered the way he had looked at her — raw, vulnerable, completely undone. She touched the faint bruises on her hips and smiled despite herself.Breakfast was a minefield. Victor was in a good mood, talking about expanding the European division. Draven sat across from her again, composed and professional, but his foot found hers under the table and stayed there, a secret a

The weekend arrived like a storm cloud on the horizon — heavy, inevitable, and full of dangerous promise. Victor had decided to host a small, intimate gathering at the estate: just a few close business associates, their wives, and of course, Draven and Lila. Freya knew it was going to be hell. Watching Draven play the devoted husband while she carried the memory of his cum inside her from the night before was going to test every ounce of her control.She spent the afternoon in her room, trying on dresses and hating all of them. Nothing felt right. Nothing could hide the marks Draven had left on her body — the faint bite on her inner thigh, the fingerprint bruises on her hips. She finally settled on a deep emerald green cocktail dress that hugged her curves and made her full breasts look incredible. It was risky. It was perfect.When she descended the grand staircase that evening, the low hum of conversation from the main salon faltered for a moment. Heads turned. But the only gaze tha

The following days blurred into a dangerous rhythm that Freya both craved and feared. Mornings started with innocent family breakfasts where Draven would sit across from her, looking every inch the respectable businessman, while his cum still leaked slowly from her body. Afternoons brought stolen texts that made her blush in the middle of reading or sketching. Nights… nights were when the real sin happened.On Wednesday, Victor left for an overnight trip to the city for a board meeting. The house felt different without him — emptier, yet charged with electricity. Freya knew what it meant. Draven knew too.He didn’t even wait until dark.Freya was in the library late that afternoon, curled up in the window seat with a book she wasn’t really reading, when the door clicked shut behind her. She looked up to find Draven leaning against it, tie already loosened, eyes burning with that dark hunger that made her stomach flip.“Come here,” he said, voice low.She stood on shaky legs and walked

Sunlight poured through the tall windows of the Voss dining room the next morning, too bright, too normal for the sin that had taken place just floors above it hours earlier. Freya sat across from her father, pushing eggs around her plate while trying to ignore the delicious ache between her legs. Every shift in her chair reminded her of Draven — how deep he’d gone, how hard he’d fucked her, how he’d filled her until his cum had leaked down her thighs on the way back to her bed.Victor Voss looked every bit the successful businessman in his crisp shirt, reading the financial papers while sipping coffee. “Glad you’re home, sweetheart. The house has been too quiet without you.”Freya forced a smile. “Missed you too, Dad.”The words tasted like ash. Guilt twisted in her stomach, but it wasn’t enough to drown the thrill still humming under her skin.The French doors opened. Draven walked in like he belonged there — because he did. Freshly showered, wearing a charcoal suit that hugged his

The grandfather clock in the grand hallway struck two in the morning, its deep chimes echoing through the quiet Voss mansion like a warning Freya chose to ignore. Most guests had left hours ago. Victor had retired to his study with a final glass of scotch, talking business deals on the phone as usual. The house was finally still.Except for the fire burning between her thighs.Freya lay in her childhood bedroom on the second floor, wearing nothing but a thin silk slip that barely reached mid-thigh. The sheets felt too warm against her skin. Sleep was impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt Draven’s thick fingers buried inside her, heard his low, filthy words against her ear. Her pussy still throbbed, slick and needy even after the intense orgasm he had ripped from her in the garden.She rolled onto her stomach, pressing her aching breasts into the mattress, trying to relieve some of the pressure. It only made it worse. Her hand slipped between her legs, fingers circling h

The humid summer night wrapped itself around the Voss estate like a secret that refused to stay hidden. Lanterns glowed along the long driveway and across the sprawling marble terraces, casting golden light over guests dressed in designer gowns and tailored suits. Laughter and clinking glasses floated on the thick air, but Freya Voss felt none of it. Her pulse was already racing for an entirely different reason.She stepped out of the black town car, the thin white sundress clinging to her body from the moment the warm breeze touched her skin. At twenty-two, Freya had grown into a woman who turned heads without trying. Her full, heavy breasts strained against the delicate fabric, nipples already tightening from the humid night and the knowledge of who waited inside. The dress hugged her narrow waist before flaring over wide hips and thick, smooth thighs. Her dark wavy hair tumbled loosely down her back, a few strands sticking to the nape of her neck. She looked innocent. She was anyth

Rory’s hands trembled slightly as she smoothed down her elegant cream-colored dress. The high neckline successfully hid most of Jax’s marks, but every time the fabric brushed against her skin, she remembered his mouth, his teeth, his hands claiming her.She hated how much she craved more.The front doors opened and Julian Voss stepped inside like he already owned the place. Tall, impeccably dressed in a tailored navy suit, with sharp features and cold blue eyes. He was handsome in a polished, almost artificial way. Everything about him screamed wealth and control.“Darling,” Julian said smoothly, taking her hand and pressing a dry kiss to her knuckles. “You look beautiful as always.”Rory forced a smile. “Julian. I wasn’t expecting you until this evening.”“I rearranged my schedule. We have wedding details to finalize.” His grip on her hand tightened just a fraction too much. “Your father wants this alliance sealed quickly.”From the corner of the hallway, Rory felt the burn of anothe

The first rays of morning light filtered through the heavy silk curtains of Aurora Sinclair’s bedroom. She stirred slowly, her body aching in the most delicious and sinful ways. Every shift of her hips sent a reminder between her legs — a deep, tender soreness that made her cheeks flush even though she was alone.She sat up, wincing slightly, and touched her neck. The marks were there. Dark hickeys and the faint imprint of teeth. Jax had claimed her last night like a man possessed, and her body still carried the evidence.“Shit…” she whispered, rushing to her mirror.There was no hiding all of them. Three prominent marks on her neck and collarbone, plus more scattered across her breasts and inner thighs. She quickly chose a high-necked blouse and applied extra concealer, her heart racing the entire time.What had she done?She had let her father’s most dangerous enforcer fuck her raw against the hallway wall — and she had loved every brutal second of it.A knock on her door made her j

The heavy oak door of her father’s study clicked shut behind Aurora Sinclair, leaving her heart hammering in the dimly lit hallway. The mansion was quiet tonight, but the air felt charged, thick with the scent of aged whiskey, cigar smoke, and something far more dangerous. Jax Draven. He stood at the end of the corridor like a shadow given form — tall, broad-shouldered, and radiating raw power. His black shirt was rolled up to his elbows, revealing corded forearms marked with old scars. Those piercing grey eyes locked onto her instantly, dark and unreadable. Rory’s breath caught. She shouldn’t be here. She should be upstairs preparing for another tedious dinner with her fiancé, Julian Voss. But her feet moved toward Jax anyway, as if pulled by an invisible chain. “You shouldn’t be wandering alone this late, Rory,” Jax said, his voice low and rough. He didn’t move as she approached, but his jaw tightened. “I couldn’t sleep.” She stopped just inches away, close enough to feel the he

The mansion felt hollow after the war.Richard’s departure still echoed — the slammed door, the screech of tires on the gravel driveway, the final devastated look he’d given Lila like she had died in front of him. Sophia had followed like the venomous shadow she was, spitting threats about ruining reputations. Damien had slipped away into the night with nothing but a dark, calculating smirk. Elena had taken the staff and left for the week, leaving the sprawling lakeside estate eerily silent except for the gentle lap of water against the private dock.It was just Victor and Lila now.They stood on the wide master balcony overlooking the moonlit lake, the cool breeze carrying the scent of pine and water. Lila still wore the torn dress from the confrontation, the fabric ripped and stained with the evidence of what they had done on her father’s desk. Victor stepped behind her, his massive 6’4 frame enveloping her smaller body as he wrapped strong arms around her waist and pulled her back

The study felt like a war zone.Richard Voss stood behind his massive oak desk, knuckles white as he gripped the edge, his face twisted in a mixture of rage, disbelief, and deep, gut-wrenching betrayal. Sophia leaned against the bookshelf, arms crossed, her eyes gleaming with vicious satisfaction. Damien lingered near the door like a shadow, watching everything with dark amusement. Elena had vanished the moment voices rose.Lila’s hand trembled in Victor’s grip. Her father’s words still echoed in her ears.“Get out. Both of you. Today.”Victor didn’t flinch. He stood tall, 6’4 of pure dominance, shoulders squared, jaw set like stone. His thumb stroked the back of Lila’s hand in a silent promise.“No,” Victor said, voice low and deadly. “I’m not leaving her. And she’s not leaving me.”Richard laughed, but there was no humor in it — only pain. “You’ve lost your goddamn mind, Victor. She’s my daughter. My *little girl*. I trusted you with my family, with my empire, and this is how you re

The mansion had become a powder keg, and they were playing with matches.Richard’s return had turned every stolen moment into Russian roulette. Lila knew they were pushing their luck too far, but the fear only seemed to make Victor more insatiable — and her more addicted. That night, after everyone had gone to bed, his text lit up her phone: *My room. Ten minutes. Don’t wear anything under that slip.*She should have ignored it. Instead, she tiptoed down the long hallway in the thin silk slip, bare underneath, her pussy already aching and wet with anticipation.The second she slipped inside Victor’s master suite, he locked the door and was on her like a starving animal. His big hands shoved the slip up around her waist as he lifted her, pinning her back against the heavy wooden door. Her legs wrapped around his hips instinctively.“No time for teasing tonight,” he growled against her mouth, freeing his thick, rock-hard cock. “Need to be inside you.”He thrust up into her soaked pussy

Lila stood in the nursery at thirty weeks, one hand on her lower back, the other cradling the heavy curve of her belly. The baby was big now, pressing against her ribs and making every movement slower, more deliberate. She had been feeling Braxton Hicks contractions for days — tight, uncomfortable squeezes that reminded her the due date was getting closer.Marcus walked in carrying a glass of cold water and a small bowl of cut fruit. He set them down and immediately came to her side, his hands sliding around her waist to support her.“You’ve been on your feet too long,” he said gently, guiding her to the rocking chair they had just assembled. “Sit. Let me take care of you.”Lila sank into the chair with a sigh of relief. The baby kicked hard, as if protesting the movement, and she smiled tiredly. “They’re running out of space in there. I think they’re ready to meet us.”Marcus knelt in front of her, his large hands covering her belly. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tight skin,

Lila stood on the terrace at dusk, the city lights beginning to flicker on below like a slow awakening. At twenty-eight weeks, her belly was round and heavy, the baby’s movements strong and frequent. She rested both hands on the curve, feeling a firm kick against her palm. A small smile touched her lips.“You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?” she whispered.Marcus stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, his large hands covering hers on her belly. He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, then rested his chin on her shoulder.“Feeling them tonight?” he asked, voice low and warm.“Non-stop,” Lila replied. “They’ve been dancing since I woke up from my nap. I think they know their dad is close.”Marcus chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her back. He rubbed slow circles over her belly, and the baby kicked again, harder this time, as if responding to his touch.“They already know who their father is,” he murmured. “They’re going to be strong. Just like you.”

Lila lay on the examination table, the cool gel on her belly making her shiver slightly. At twenty-five weeks, the baby was growing fast. The ultrasound technician moved the wand slowly, and the strong, steady heartbeat filled the room like a drum.*Thump-thump. Thump-thump.*Marcus sat beside her, one hand gripping hers tightly, the other resting on her shoulder. His eyes were fixed on the screen, completely mesmerized by the image of their child — tiny fists, kicking legs, a perfect profile.“Everything looks excellent,” the doctor said with a warm smile. “Growth is right on track. Heart rate is strong. You’re doing great, Lila. Keep resting when you need to, and stay hydrated.”Lila let out a shaky breath of relief. The baby kicked hard as if celebrating the good news, and she laughed softly, tears pricking her eyes. Marcus leaned down and kissed her forehead, then her belly, whispering something only the three of them could share.On the drive home, Marcus kept one hand on her thi

Lila stood in the middle of her new office on the 32nd floor of Hale Global Tower, sunlight pouring through floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. The space was hers — completely hers. Marcus had surprised her with it two days after the trial ended. A sleek, modern office with a private lounge, a small nursery corner already being prepared, and a nameplate on the door that read “Lila Hale, Founder & Creative Director.”She ran her fingers over the smooth wooden desk, heart full. Her event-planning business had exploded after the trial. Clients who once hesitated now wanted the woman who had stood up in court and chosen love over fear. Three major galas were already booked for next quarter, and a luxury brand had approached her for a year-long partnership.The baby kicked hard, as if celebrating with her. At twenty-four weeks, the movements were stronger now, little reminders that their family was growing. Lila smiled and rubbed her belly gently.“You like the new office, d

The morning after the verdict felt different.Lila woke slowly in the penthouse bedroom, sunlight spilling across the sheets in soft golden waves. For the first time in months, there was no immediate knot of dread in her chest. The lawsuit was over. Tyler had lost. The judge had made it clear: no asset freeze, no public shaming of their family, and a strong warning against further harassment.She placed both hands on her belly. At twenty-three weeks, the baby was strong and active, kicking often as if celebrating with her. The movement made her smile, a soft, genuine smile that reached her eyes.Marcus stirred beside her, his arm sliding around her waist, hand instinctively finding her rounded stomach. He pressed a slow kiss to her shoulder, then lower to the curve of her belly.“Good morning, my loves,” he murmured, voice still rough with sleep. “How are my two favorite people today?”Lila turned toward him, her fingers threading through his silver-threaded hair. “Better. Much better

The courtroom was packed on the first day of the full trial. Cameras lined the back wall, permitted by the judge despite Victoria’s best efforts. The air felt thick with tension, whispers, and the occasional flash from phones trying to capture every moment.Lila sat beside Marcus at the defendant’s table, her hand resting on the prominent curve of her belly. At twenty weeks, the pregnancy was impossible to hide. The baby kicked often, strong little movements that grounded her whenever the anxiety threatened to rise. She wore a tailored maternity dress in soft cream, elegant and professional, chosen to show strength rather than vulnerability.Marcus’s hand covered hers under the table, thumb stroking slow, steady circles. He looked calm on the outside — sharp black suit, silver-threaded hair perfectly styled — but she could feel the protective tension in his body.“You okay?” he whispered, leaning close enough that only she could hear.Lila nodded, squeezing his hand. “I’m ready.”Tyle

Ava’s POVSix months later, the penthouse terrace was alive with the sound of laughter and the soft clink of glasses. Our daughter, now sitting up on her own with a tuft of dark curls and Ethan’s bright eyes, clapped her tiny hands at the colorful balloons tied to her high chair. She had just turned six months old, and we had gathered everyone to celebrate — not just her milestone, but the quiet victory of the life we had built together.I stood by the railing, watching Ethan chase her across the soft mat we had laid out. He got down on his hands and knees, making exaggerated growling sounds while she squealed and crawled away from him. Every time he caught her, he lifted her high and kissed her cheeks until she dissolved into giggles. The sight of them together still took my breath away.Sandra came up beside me, a glass of juice in her hand. Her other hand rested on the small bump just starting to show under her dress. “Look at him,” she said, smiling. “Who would have thought the ru

Ava’s POVThe morning of the ceremony felt different. Sunlight poured through the windows of the penthouse, warm and bright, chasing away the last shadows that had lingered in the corners. I stood in front of the mirror in our bedroom, smoothing the soft fabric of the simple white dress over my hips. It flowed gently, comfortable enough for healing but elegant for the moment. Our daughter cooed from the bed where Ethan had laid her down on a soft blanket. She kicked her little legs, reaching for the mobile he had hung above her.Ethan stepped up behind me, his hands settling lightly on my waist. He wore a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, looking every bit the man who had fought through hell to stand here with us. He met my eyes in the mirror and smiled that slow, private smile that still made my stomach flutter.“You look beautiful,” he said, voice low. He pressed a kiss to the side of my neck, then rested his chin on my shoulder. “Ready?”I leaned back into him, feeling

Ava’s POVThe terrace caught the late afternoon sun perfectly, golden light stretching across the tiles. I sat in the wide outdoor chair with our daughter nestled against my chest in a soft carrier. She had grown so much in these short weeks at home, her cheeks filling out, her eyes tracking movement more clearly. Ethan knelt in front of us, adjusting the tiny sun hat on her head even though the umbrella gave plenty of shade.“She likes it out here,” he said, his voice warm. He brushed a finger across her cheek and she turned toward his touch, making that small gurgling sound that always made my heart flip. “Good choice for the ceremony. Close enough to home but feels like a fresh start.”I smiled and reached for his hand. “It does. Small guest list, just the people who matter. No cameras, no pressure.”He sat beside me and pulled my legs across his lap, rubbing my calves with gentle pressure. The scar from the surgery still felt tight sometimes, but his touch helped loosen everything

Ava’s POVThe nursery smelled like fresh linen and baby powder. Morning light spilled across the floor as I stood by the crib, watching our daughter sleep. Her tiny chest rose and fell in even rhythms now, no more wires or monitors. She had been home for a week, and each day felt like another small miracle. Ethan came up behind me, his arms sliding around my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder and looked down at her with the same wonder he wore every morning.“She slept through the night,” he said softly, his breath warm against my ear. “You both did. Feels like we’re finally winning.”I leaned back into him, letting his solid warmth hold me up. The C-section scar still pulled when I moved too fast, but the pain was fading. What stayed was the quiet joy of these ordinary moments. Feeding her at two in the morning. Ethan changing diapers like he had studied for a test. The way he talked to her about everything from the stock market to why the sky turned pink at sunset.“Your mom c

Ava’s POVThe morning we left the hospital felt like stepping into a new world. The nurses had given us the all-clear after one last check. Our daughter’s oxygen levels stayed steady, she was gaining weight, and the doctor smiled when he signed the papers. Ethan carried the car seat like it held the most precious thing in the universe, which it did. I walked beside him slowly, still sore from the surgery, but every step felt lighter.The penthouse looked different when we arrived. Fresh flowers sat on the table, soft blankets draped over the new rocking chair in the nursery, and the walls had been painted in the pale cream we chose together. Sandra and Lila had clearly been busy. Ethan set the car seat down gently and lifted our daughter out, cradling her against his chest as if she might break.“Welcome home, little one,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She made a small cooing sound, and his face broke into the biggest smile I had ever seen.I moved to the nursery door

Ava’s POVMorning light filled the hospital room with a soft glow. I sat up in bed, the stitches from the C-section pulling a little less today. Our daughter lay in the bassinet beside me, wrapped in a soft pink blanket, her tiny fists curled near her face. She had slept better last night, and so had I. Ethan stood by the window, talking quietly on the phone with his lawyers about Clara’s case. Every few seconds his eyes drifted back to us, like he needed to make sure we were still there.He ended the call and came over, sitting on the edge of the bed. His hand found mine first, then reached to gently stroke our daughter’s cheek. “The DA says the evidence is solid. Kidnapping, assault, conspiracy. She won’t see the outside for a long time.”I nodded, watching our baby’s peaceful face. “Good. I don’t want her near us ever again.”Ethan leaned in and kissed my forehead, lingering there. “Your mom is coming in an hour. She wants to meet her granddaughter. I told her only if you’re ready.