This Man

‘Didn’t we just make friends?’

‘Not properly. We need to make friends properly. It’s the sensible thing to do. We don’t run anymore, Ava.’

I smile and wrap my arms around his back as he walks us out of the kitchen, into my bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He places me on the end of the bed, pulling my vest up over my head, my bra-free br**sts springing free. He smiles, looking down into my eyes and tossing my vest on the floor. He starts pulling at the waist band of my shorts, encouraging me to lift my bum so he can draw them down my legs, taking my knickers with them.

‘Stay there.’ he orders, reaching up and pulling at his tie. Sparks of anticipation ricochet all around my body as I watch him slowly undress in front of me. His jacket follows his tie, then he slowly unbuttons his shirt.

Hurry up! The flex of his ripped chest has me virtually dribbling as he stands before me, taking painfully long to undress. My eyes are automatically drawn to the sight of his scar. I’m desperate to know where it came from.

‘Look at me, Ava.’

My eyes fly straight to his, those sludgy pools of green watching me carefully as he removes his shoes, socks and trousers, before finally dragging his boxers down his legs. His erection springs free. It’s at eye level to me. If I reach forward and open my mouth, I’ll have the upper hand. That would make a nice change. I glance up at him, catching a wicked grin and blazing eyes.

‘I’m desperate to be inside you after looking for you for the last two days,’ he says darkly. ‘I’ll look forward to f**king your mouth later. You owe me.’

A powerful thud crashes into my core as he leans down and curls his arm around my waist before crawling up the bed above me and placing me down gently beneath him. My thighs are spread by his knee, and he cradles himself between them, resting his forearms on either side of my head as he looks down at me with soft eyes. I could weep.

Any plans I had of walking away before it’s too late are totally obliterated. It’s already too late, and his determination to have me, as and when he pleases, is not doing me any favours.

‘You won’t run away from me again.’ he says softly but firmly.

I know I have to answer this. I shake my head and reach up to his shoulders.

‘You need to answer me, Ava.’ he whispers. I feel the broad head of his erection pushing at my entrance, causing a ridiculous amount of heat to plague me.

‘I won’t.’ I confirm.

He nods, holding my gaze as he slowly draws back and drives forward, plunging deeply into me. I moan and adjust my grip on his shoulders, shifting under him. The fullness is incredible, and I’ve fast become use to him. He blows out a long controlled breath of air. The concentration frown flickering across his brow is shiny with sweat and heavy on his forehead.

I resist the urge to contract around him – he needs a moment. His eyes close, his long lashes fanning, his head dropped to mine as he battles to compose his erratic breathing. I wait patiently for him to sort himself out, running my hands up and down his firm upper arms, more than happy to lay here looking at this beautiful, neurotic man so closely. He knows I need gentle Jesse right now.

After a few moments, he gathers himself together and lifts his head back up to look at me. My heart constricts in my chest. I’m so in love with this man.

‘This is what happens when you deny me. Don’t do it again.’ He lifts his upper body to brace his arms, then lazily drags back and gradually drives forward.

I purr. Oh, good God. He repeats the delectable move, over and over, watching me the entire time.

‘You need to think about this, Ava. When you’re tempted to run again, think about how you feel right now. Think about me.’

‘Yes.’ I breathe, struggling to dampen down a fast buildup of pressure. I want to carry on like this forever. I want to feel like this forever. This is exactly why I’ve been avoiding him. I’m weak and feeble in my attempts to brush him off. Or is he just determined? Well, either way, I always end up at square one again…giving myself to this man.

I rock my hips up to meet his every thrust, and he lowers his mouth to mine, taking my lips leisurely and lazily, matching his blazing hip rhythm with his tongue.

I whimper, digging my nails into his arms. I’ve got to stop marking him and drawing blood. The poor man is mistreated almost every time. He drives slowly forward, circles deeply and withdraws lazily, time and time again. I can’t hold out for much longer. How does he do this to me?

‘Does that feel good?’ he whispers.

‘Too good,’ I gasp on a lazy grind.

‘It does. Are you there, lady?’ he asks against my lips.

I nip his tongue. ‘I’m there.’

‘I’ve got you, baby. Let it go.’

The racking shudder that courses through my body has me clenched around Jesse’s arousal, shaking wildly against him as I moan my release into his mouth. The last, deep thrust, followed by a jerk and hot sensation flooding me, signals Jesse’s release. He holds himself deep and clenches his eyes shut, while paying loving attention to my mouth, moaning long and low. The pulsating of him is triggering my muscles to tense around him, all in time to his throbs. I’m draining him dry.

‘God, I’ve missed you.’ he whispers, burying his face in the crook of my neck and nuzzling before rolling onto his back. He holds his arm up, and I move into his warm, firm chest, resting my cheek on his pec. I’m so screwed – totally f**king screwed.

‘I love sleepy sex with you.’ I muse dreamily.

‘That wasn’t sleep sex, baby.’ He brushes my hair from my face with his spare hand.