Текст книги "This Man"

Автор книги: Jodi Ellen Malpas

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 32 страниц)

‘Leaving so soon?’

My shoulders raise and I wince at the cold, unfriendly voice of Sarah. Straightening my expression, I turn to face her. ‘It’s been a long and tiring day.’ I offer, inwardly cringing at my own double meaning statement. If only she knew how long and tiring.

She sips her champagne while eyeing me suspiciously. ‘You’re quite a surprise.’ she purrs.

She seems genuine. Is that a compliment? Oh God, don’t be nice to me. I’ve just screwed her boyfriend in his new bathroom, and now she’s being nice? Or is it her bathroom as well? Oh heck! I want to crawl inside myself and die. I’m deplorable.

I really don’t know what to say. ‘Thank you.’ I utter, turning back to the elevator when it opens. I need to get out of this place.

‘It wasn’t a compliment,’ she says categorically.

‘I didn’t think it was.’ I retort, without looking at her. Obviously, I was mistaken.

‘You know Jesse owns this place, right?’

I want to ask her if she’ll be living here too, but, of course, I don’t. ‘He mentioned it.’ I say casually, stepping into the lift and punching the code in. ‘It was nice to see you.’ I smile. I don’t know why I said that, it wasn’t nice at all. I still don’t like her, and she’s made it perfectly clear how she feels about me. I can’t blame her.

The doors close and I fall back against the mirrored wall.

Shit!

Chapter 10

 

What ever happened to the simple, single life for me?  I’m such a fuck up.

After collecting my things from the changing rooms of the spa, I dump them in my car and wander down to the docks, sitting myself on a bench. The hustle and bustle of the docks is in full swing as people come and go, all looking happy and content. The flowers are in bloom on the elaborate lampposts, spilling over the baskets and cascading down the ornate iron, and the lights from the building all flicker and glow across the docks, dancing off of the rippling waves.

I sigh and close my eyes, listening to the sound of the water lightly lapping at the sides of the boats. It’s rhythmic and relaxing, but I don’t think anything will make me feel better at the moment. I get my phone out of my bag to call Kate. After letting it ring off, I leave a message.

‘Hey, it’s me,’ I know I sound forlorn, but I can’t feign chirpiness when I really don’t feel it. I groan. ‘Oh, Kate… I’ve made a monumental fuck up. I’ll be home soon.’ I drop my hand to the bench and resolve to the fact that I’m pretty damn stupid. What was I thinking?

My phone jumps to life in my hand, and I connect the call without looking at the display, assuming it will be Kate. ‘Hey.’

‘Where are you?’ He speaks softly down the phone.

I don’t know whether my heart sinks because it’s not Kate, or just because it is Jesse. I don’t know anything. My life was resuming rather well, man free and commitment free, and now this is going to play on my conscience. I’m a firm believer in Karma, in which case, I’m in big trouble.

‘I’m at home.’ I lie again. It’s coming naturally these days. I’m twiddling my hair, a sure sign of my Pinocchio behavior.

‘Okay.’ he whispers and hangs up.

Oh? Well, that was easier than I contemplated. After I didn’t comply with hand holding orders and abandoned him with the gayest of the gay mauling him, I had expected pissed off. So, he’s got what he wanted and that’s it. I’m not sure why I feel so neglected. It’s what I had expected, and it’s no less than I actually deserve. His persistence had worn me down, but now it’s out of my system. Now, I can get back to me and my life. And if I’m lucky, Sarah won’t ever find out about this mild indiscretion.

Mild? It was far from mild.

Nevertheless, Jesse can continue with his serial seductions and move on to the next lucky woman, for all I care. I’m sure Sarah will find out soon enough, just not now. A woman scorned and after my blood is the last thing I need.

After sitting and musing for a while, I reluctantly get up to go and hail a cab. There’s only so long you can sit feeling sorry for yourself. I need to put tonight behind me fast. I need to forget about it, eradicate it from my memory and put it down to experience. He’s hazardous. I know it.

As I turn and look up, Jesse is stood a few feet away, quietly watching me. How the hell am I going to achieve any of my objectives if he stalks me?

Where’s Sarah?

We face each other, still and silent, his face impassive as he studies me. And then I burst into tears. I don’t know why, but I put my face in my hands and I sob. God only knows what he must be thinking. But then I feel his warm body swathe me and my head rests in the crevasse of his neck, my arms, on reflex, reaching under his to cling onto him. We say nothing for a long time. We just stand there in each other’s arms, silent while he massages the back of my head with the palm of his big hand, keeping me tucked tightly against his body. There is only a small part of me wondering where Sarah is, but I don’t dwell on it. I feel sheltered and safe, and I’m only mildly alert to the fact that I should be running away from these arms, not into them. I should be treating them with caution, not accepting the comfort they’re giving me. Why can’t I run?

‘How long have you been stood here?’ I ask when my sobs have finally abated.

‘Long enough,’ he murmurs. ‘What’s all this about a monumental fuck up?’ He squeezes me tighter. ‘I hope to God you weren’t referring to me.’

‘I was.’ I don’t beat around the bush. It would be pointless.

‘You were?’ he sounds surprised and a little pissed, but then a few moments later he follows it up with, ‘Will you come home with me?’ I feel him tense slightly.

I’ve just told him that he’s my monumental fuck up, and he wants to take me home? What about Sarah? They obviously don’t live together then. ‘No.’ I answer. What I’ve done already is bad enough.

‘Please, Ava.’

‘Why?’ I ask. I need to know what his fascination is with me, because if I spend any more time with this man, I may be in even more trouble. I can’t be getting caught up in sordid affairs with older, unavailable men. Although, exactly how old is still to be determined. There is something about this man, and it’s screaming bad news.

He pulls back to look down at me, his beautiful brow furrowed. ‘It feels right. You belong with me.’ He says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

‘So, who does Sarah belong with?’

‘Sarah? What’s she got to do with anything?’ He looks really confused now.

‘Girlfriend,’ I remind him. He really has no regard for the poor woman.

His eyes bulge. ‘Oh, please don’t tell me you’ve been ignoring my calls and running away because you thought…’ He releases me. ‘You thought me and Sarah were…’ He steps back. ‘Oh, fucking hell, no!’

‘Yes!’ I exclaim. ‘She’s not?’ Oh, now I’m really confused. The woman couldn’t have made her claim any clearer if she’d have pissed all over him. Who the hell is she then? Oh, I really don’t like her now.

His hands delve into his hair. ‘Ava, whatever made you think that?’

Is he winding me up? ‘Oh, let me see,’ I smile sweetly. ‘Maybe it was the kiss in the hallway of The Manor. Or when she came looking for you in the bedroom. Or it could be her frosty reception to me,’ I draw breath. ‘Or, perhaps, it’s the fact that she’s with you every time I see you.’  I can’t believe this. I’ve been beating myself up about this, and over a woman that I really don’t like. What a waste of conscience! ‘Who is she?’ I ask, completely riled.

He holds my hands, leaning down so his eyes are level with mine. ‘Ava, she’s a little friendly.’

‘Friendly?’ I scoff. ‘That woman is not friendly!’

‘She’s a friend.’ he says soothingly. I don’t want soothing. No, I want to pop some pouty red lips! She knew exactly what she was doing. She, clearly, wants to be more than friends.

He brushes his palm down my cheek. ‘Now we’ve clarified Sarah’s position in my life, can we talk about yours?’

What? I recoil. ‘What do you mean?’ His previous comments suddenly embed themselves into my mind. All of the, you’re mine, I’ll keep you and you’ll change your mind.

He smirks. ‘I mean in my bed and under me.’ He yanks me into his chest, and I resume nuzzle, sagging with relief. That sounds good to me. I’ve just added a steaming hot affair with an older man to my bucket list, just so I can tick it off. No commitment, no tying down. This suits me fine. Although, I doubt I would get either of the aforementioned from this man.

‘At The Manor?’ I ask. It’s quite a drive.

‘No, I’ve an apartment behind me, but I can’t move in until tomorrow. I’m renting a place on Hyde Park. You’ll come.’

‘Yes.’ I don’t hesitate, but I’m aware that it wasn’t a question. And I’m also mindful of his previous comments, especially his last one: You belong with me.

Is that his decision, or mine?

He sighs, applying more pressure to my head and back.

Yes, proceed with extreme caution, Ava.

We travel in silence, except for the low tones of Massive Attack’s Teardrops filtering out of his car sound system. How fitting after my sobbing fit. I spend most of the journey deliberating on my decision to come home with Jesse, while he repeatedly draws breath, as if intending to say something but deciding against it.

He pulls his Aston Martin into a gated car park, and I let myself out. Popping his boot and grabbing my bags, he takes my hand and leads me into the building.

‘I’m on the first floor. We’ll take the stairs, it’s quicker.’ He guides me through a grey fire door, into the stairwell and up a flight of stairs.

We exit into a narrow corridor. It looks like a specialist hospital facility. Jesse unlocks the only other door in the long expanse of white and grey, ushers me in, and I’m immediately stood in a large open plan area. It’s white from top to bottom, with black furniture and a black kitchen, monochrome to the absolute maximum – a real guy’s pad. It looks empty, cold and clinical. I hate it.

‘It’s a pit stop. I bet you’re really offended.’ His eyes glow and he smiles, no doubt at my critical face.

‘I prefer your new place.’

‘Me too,’

I wander further into the apartment, scrutinising the lack of warmth and cosiness. How does he live here? There are no personal touches, no paintings or photographs. I notice a snowboard propped up in the corner, with various skiing equipment piled around it. On the side board, where I would expect to see vases or ornaments, there’s a motorcycle helmet and some leather gloves. That’s a surprise.

‘I don’t keep alcohol. Do you want some water?’ He strolls over to the huge, black fridge and pulls it open.

‘Please.’ I join him in the kitchen area, pulling out a black bar stool from under the black granite worktop of the island. Jesse removes his suit jacket and perches on the adjacent stool, turning to face me and handing me a glass of water before he unscrews the cap of a bottle for himself. His long, muscled legs are straining against his trousers, his feet flat on the floor, but his legs considerably bent, considering the height of the stool. My feet are propped on the footrest.

He sips his water, looking at me over the bottle, while I fiddle with my glass. I feel incredibly uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have come. Things have become awkward and I’m not sure why. There is one reason and one reason alone why he’s brought me here. And like the idiot that I am, I’ve gone along with it.

I hear him sigh. He places his bottle down before he takes my glass from my hand and puts it on the island worktop. Grasping the seat of my stool, he drags it closer to his, turning it to face him, resting his palms on my knees. He leans in. ‘Why did you cry?’ he asks.

‘I don’t know.’ I answer honestly. The whole episode caught me off guard, if I’m honest. There’s no reason for me to be blubbering all over him. I feel pretty stupid.

‘Yes, you do. Tell me.’

I consider what I should say, while his eyes probe mine, waiting for me to answer. The light crease appears across his brow, and I realise now that it’s a concentration slash concern frown. What should I tell him? That I’ve just come out of a four year relationship with a bloke who persistently cheated on me? That over the last four weeks, since calling it a day, I’ve re-established my identity and I don’t want a man to rob it again? That my trust in men is zero and the fact that he is, quite clearly, a prince of seduction spells trouble for me? Oh, and finally, I know deep down that this could all end very messily for me – not him.

But he won’t want to hear any of that girly nonsense. ‘I don’t know.’ I repeat myself instead.

He sighs, his frown morphing into a scowl as he taps his fingers on the granite a few times. I can, quite literally, see the cogs of his mind grinding as he looks at me, chewing his bottom lip. ‘Would I be right in saying that your misinterpretation of mine and Sarah’s relationship wasn’t the only reason you were avoiding me?’ he asks, but it’s more like a statement than a question. He unclasps his Rolex and slides it onto the worktop.

‘Probably,’ I look away from him, a little ashamed – I don’t know why. How does he know that, anyway?

‘That’s disappointing.’ he states conclusively, but I can’t hear the disappointment in his voice. All I hear is annoyance. I don’t need to tell him that I could, very possibly, fall hard for him. Women must fall hard for him on a daily basis.

I recoil slightly when he grabs my jaw and tugs my face back to his. The hollow at his cheekbones confirm my thoughts. He’s gritting his teeth. He’s angry? What did he bloody expect? For me to drop to my knees and kiss his feet? He’s obviously use it to. It was just sex, wasn’t it? We both needed to get each other out our systems, and there was an opportunity to do just that. We took the opportunity, that’s all.

He’s not out of your system! Oh bloody hell. I don’t think he will be any time soon either – if ever. He’s already under my skin.

‘What did you want me to say?’ I ask.

He releases my jaw, letting out a frustrated sigh, and before I know what’s hit me, he grabs me and tosses me onto the worktop, sending my glass of water crashing to the tiled floor. The glass shatters loudly around us. My legs are spread with his thighs, causing my dress to ride up, and he attacks my mouth with his inexorable tongue, plunging deep and meaningfully.

I’m slightly taken aback by his impulsive assault, but I’m powerless to stop him, in physical strength and in mental strength. I’m instantly plagued by blazing goose bumps and hot wetness at my core, as he thrusts his hips hard while consuming my mouth. He cups my bum, pulling me closer, keeping his groin tight against me.

Oh, holy shit! I groan as his hips roll, unashamed for him to know that I’m turned on like a thousand watt light bulb. Releasing my lips, he stares at me, breathing hard with brazen hunger shining from his green pools. I’m certain my eyes are matching his.

‘Let’s establish some things here,’ he pants through short breaths. He pulls me off of the worktop so I’m straddling his waist. He stares at me. ‘You’re a shit liar.’

Yes, this I know. My Mum and Dad tell me all the time. I twiddle my hair when I lie. It’s involuntary – I can’t help it. What else are we establishing because I’m burning up on pleasure here?

He leans in and kisses my lips, softly stroking my tongue with his. ‘You’re mine now, Ava.’ He rolls his hips, causing me to shift upwards and tense to relieve myself of the relentless buzzing at my core. We’re face to face. ‘I’m keeping you forever.’ he informs me on a thrust of his hips.

I close my arms around his shoulders and kiss him on his lush, moist lips, my way of saying, okay. I’m desperate for him all over again. I’m in so much trouble.

‘I’m going to possess every.single.part.of.you,’ He punctuates each word clearly and sharply. ‘There will be nowhere on this beautiful body that won’t have had me in it, on it or over it.’ His voice is carnal and deadly serious, which only serves to increase my heart rate a little more.

Every single bit, though? Should I look further into that? I don’t get a chance to. I’m lowered to my feet and spun around before he yanks the zipper of my poor, mistreated dress down. My bra is removed and tossed aside just as quickly.

Leaning down, he kisses the nape of my exposed neck, blowing his cool, minty breath across it, instigating a delightful shiver from the mixture of heat from is tongue and the coolness of his breath. Christ, I’m buzzing all over. I flex my neck, rolling my shoulder blades to alleviate the tingles that are riddling my entire body.

He moves his mouth to my ear. ‘Face me.’

I do as I’m told, turning back around to look at him, finding an expression of pure determination as he lifts me back onto the island. I rest my hands on his shoulders, but he grasps them, and I reluctantly let him guide them down to the worktop so I’m gripping the edge.

‘The hands stay here.’ he says firmly as he releases them, backing up his demand with that confident tone. He hooks his fingers in the top of my knickers and tugs at them. ‘Lift.’

I push my weight onto my arms, lifting my backside off of the worktop so he can draw them down my legs, lowering myself back down when I’m free from the constraints of my underwear. I’m stark naked, and he’s still fully dressed. And he doesn’t look like he has any intention of removing his clothes anytime soon. I want to see that chest. I move my hands from the edge of the counter to the hem of his shirt.

He steps back, shaking his head slowly. ‘Hands,’

I pout, returning my hands to the worktop edge. I want to see him, feel him. This is not fair.

He positions his hands on his top button. ‘You want me to remove my shirt?’ His low, husky voice is playing havoc with my discipline.

‘Yes.’ I breathe.

‘Yes, what?’ he smirks at me, and I narrow my eyes on him.

‘Please.’ I grate, in a long drawn out breath, well aware that he’s getting a thrill from making me beg.

He smiles as he slowly unbuttons his shirt, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on me. It takes every bit of effort not to reach forward and yank it open. Why is he making such a meal of this? He knows what he’s doing. He’s making me wait. It’s torturous.

When he finally gets to the last button, he rolls his shoulders, pulling his shirt off. For the briefest moment – when both arms are flexed back, his muscles bulging and rippling with his movement – I think I might pass out.

He kicks his tan Grensons off and removes his socks. He’s naked except for his trousers. I run my eyes over his perfect physic, my mouth watering, until I see that vicious mar on his abdomen. My eyes pause on it momentarily, but he positions himself back between my legs, snapping me from my curiosity. I fight the urge to grab him. The pressure on my core has me shifting on the counter to ease the immense spasms searing through me. And he’s not unaffected himself. His huge erection is straining against the front of his trousers, pressing hard into my thigh.

He rests his hands so they span the tops of my legs, his thumbs on my inside thigh slowly circling, millimetres from my aching core. I’m raw with pure lust, my rapid breathing becoming increasingly difficult to regulate.

He squeezes my thighs. ‘Where to start?’ he muses, lifting one hand and running his thumb across my bottom lip. ‘Here?’ he asks. My lips part. He watches me as he slides his thumb into my mouth, and I circle it with my tongue, his lips lifting at the corners in a diminutive smile. He withdraws his thumb, running it across my cheek, then, very slowly, he strokes his flat palm down my neck and onto my pumping chest before cupping my breast possessively. ‘Or here?’ His husky voice is betraying his calm façade as he raises a questioning eyebrow at me, circling my nipple with his thumb. I gasp.

If he’s expecting me to talk, then he can forget it. Speech has totally eluded me, being replaced with short, sharp breaths.

‘These are mine.’ He gently kneads my breast for a few moments before recommencing his hand stroke down my sensitive skin. He spends a few seconds making big circles on my stomach before he continues downwards. As the heat of his hand reaches the inside of my thigh, I force myself to breathe. I’m struggling and feeling dizzy with lust

Just when I think he’s going to claim me with his fingers, he swiftly changes direction, running his hand around my hip, causing me to jerk. He cups my arse.

‘Or here?’ He’s completely serious. I go rigid. ‘Every single inch, Ava,’ he breathes.  I’m holding my breath, my lungs burning, as he smiles a little, his hand starting to drift back around to my front. He doesn’t mess about – he cups me. ‘I think I’ll start here.’

I release my breath in a thankful rush, relief swamping my entire being. He taps his finger under my chin so I’m forced to look up into his sludgy eyes.

‘But I did mean every inch.’ he affirms coolly, before placing his hand on the worktop besides my thigh, his other hand still cupping my core.

Fuck! I’m not sure if I’m up for that. Matt had tried a few times. It was a flat no fucking way! More pleasurable route, I think he said – yes, for him! I don’t have long to mood over it. I feel Jesse’s finger run up the centre of my core, generating flashes of pleasure that jet off in a million different directions around my body. I slump forward, resting my forehead on his shoulder as my upper body rolls up and down in time to my thumping heartbeat.

‘You’re drenched,’ he rumbles low in my ear as he plunges a finger into me. I immediately tighten my muscles around it. ‘You.want.me.’ he states firmly, withdrawing and spreading the wetness over my clit before surging forward again with two fingers.

I cry out.

‘Tell me you want me, Ava.’

‘I want you.’ I pant against his shoulder.

I hear a groan of satisfaction. ‘Tell me you need me.’

I would tell him anything he wants to hear at this point – absolutely anything. ‘I need you.’

‘You’ll always need me, Ava. I’m going to make sure of it. Now, let’s see if we can fuck some sense into you.’

Sense? What’s he on about?

He withdraws his fingers from me and pulls me down from the worktop, turning me slowly in his arms. My hands find the flat surface of the granite. I’m not happy with this position.

‘I want to see you.’  I moan, although I don’t fancy my chances. He seems like the dominant type.

I feel his body closing in on me, the heat pouring out of him and into me. When the firmness of his chest presses up against my back, I lean on him, the back of my head resting on his shoulder.

He turns his mouth into my ear. ‘Shut up and soak up the pleasure.’ He pushes his hips into the small of my back and slowly grinds into me as he reaches forward, placing his hands on my wrists. ‘No talking unless I tell you. You got that?’

I nod. This is definitely a man who likes to be in control.

He begins a slow, languid jaunt up my arms with his talented fingers, leaving my skin prickling in their wake, spreading fire through my veins. My breasts ache for his touch as he reaches the tops of my arms and moves onto my shoulders. I clamp my lips together, but a moan escapes. I can’t help it, not when he’s making me feel like this.

His hands span my shoulders entirely, and he begins circling his thumbs into the base of my neck, working out the stiffness that’s looming there. The feeling is out of this world. My body is relaxed and my mind serene.

Lowering his mouth to my neck, he brushes his lips over my skin before kissing me gently. ‘Your skin is addictive.’

‘Hmmm.’ I purr. That’s not talking.

He laughs softly. ‘This good?’ he asks, trailing feather soft kisses up and down my jaw. I turn my face in towards him, meeting him square in the eye. I nod again.

He soaks up my gaze for a few seconds, his expression contented, before planting a soft kiss on my lips and letting his hands work their way down to my hips. I clench my eyes shut, trying my hardest not to jolt forward.

‘Keep your hands where they are.’ he orders firmly, releasing his hold of me.

I hear the sounds of his trousers being removed before his hands are back on my hips. He’s steps back from me, slowly taking my hips with him. My pulse accelerates and I shift my grip on the worktop to support myself in my braced position. I flinch when his hand cups the base of my neck, feeling his erection nudging at my opening. In an attempt to stabilise my breathing, I draw a long breath, trying to relax as I linger on the brink of penetration. This is the worst kind of torture.

He leans forward, his warm, wet tongue connecting with my back, licking a straight line up the centre of my spine, finishing with a soft kiss on the base of my neck.

‘Are you ready for me, Ava?’ he asks against my skin, the vibration of his lips sending tremors of pleasure straight to my core. ‘You can answer.’

Despite my breathing exercises, I’m still short of breath. ‘Yes.’ I’m virtually panting.

The rush of air that escapes his mouth is thorough appreciation. I feel his hand brush against my bum as he positions himself, then, very slowly, he breaches my pulsing void, plunging in smoothly and controlled. His breathing is laboured, and I want to scream in pleasure, but I’m not sure that it’s allowed.

Oh, this is good. What will he do if I disobey him, anyway? My loss will be his loss too. He repositions his hand back on my hip and stills. My grip tightens on the counter until my knuckles are bloodless, and I find myself pushing back against him, taking him to the hilt.

‘Fuck, Ava, you turn me inside out.’ he groans, his hand tightening around my neck, holding me in place, his other leaving my hip and reaching around to cup my breast. ‘I can’t do this slow.’ he pants as he moulds me.  He withdraws slowly and advances, hard and fast, in one swift lash, jolting me forward.

‘Jesse!’ I cry. There is not a chance in Hell I’m going to be quiet if he continues with that. My God, this man is powerful.

He withdraws slowly. ‘Quiet, Ava.’ he grates and strikes again, knocking my breath right out of my lungs.

I adjust my grip, but it’s hard when my hands are sweaty, causing them to slide on the granite. I rid myself of the flex in my arms to prevent him shoving me forward again, just about managing to stabilise myself in time for his assault. He hammers back into me tirelessly, leaving no recovering space between hard, relentless pounds. He’s unforgiving.

Shifting his hands from my neck and breast, he takes a firm hold of my hips and pulls me back to meet his every hard thrust, slamming into me to the absolute maximum. I’ve lost all sense of realism. Nothing else exists, except for Jesse, his brutal drive and my body’s craving for it. This is mind bending stuff.

My stomach coils as I feel my impending orgasm battle its way forward, assisted rapidly by Jesse’s ruthless momentum.

‘Not yet, Ava.’ he warns.

How does he know?  I can’t sustain this for much longer. I’m going to explode at any moment. I can hear our sweaty bodies colliding on loud blows, along with Jesse’s throaty grunts rolling over me. I concentrate on quenching the raw need to let it go, the pleasure verging to the point of pain. But with my thoughts in a million places, except my brain, I’m a slave to my body’s need.

And then he pulls out, and I’m left hanging. What’s he doing? I whimper as my impending release retreats. I’m about to yell at him, but then I feel his finger slide down the centre of my backside. I tense from top to bottom.

Oh no! 

‘You can do this, Ava.’ He slides his fingers down between my thighs and into me, collecting the wetness and slowly dragging it back up to my bum. ‘Relax, we’ll take it slow.’

Relax? I can’t relax! He circles my opening slowly, every muscle in my backside clenching, automatically rejecting the invasion.

‘Ava, relax.’ He stresses the words.

‘I’m fucking trying.’ I grate. ‘Give me time, damn it!’ He can fuck right off if he thinks I’m keeping quiet now! I hear him laugh softly as he takes his fingers back down to my clit, rolling them around, causing spikes of pleasure to bolt through me.

‘Watch your mouth.’ he warns.

I focus of taking deep, controlled breaths. ‘Don’t you need some lubricant or something?’ I pant.

‘You’re soaking, Ava. That’s enough. You’re not very good under instruction, are you?’ He penetrates my opening with his thumb, and I sink my teeth into my lip. ‘Relax, woman’

‘Oh God, this is going to hurt, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, at first. You have to relax. Once I’m in, you’ll love it, trust me.’

Oh, bloody hell!

He continues the massaging of my opening as I drop my head, panting and sweating with nerves. I feel his hand wrap around the nape of my neck and gently massage at my tense muscles. As I give myself a mental pep talk, his hand leaves my neck and lands my backside. He gently eases me open until I feel the moist head of his erection nudging at my opening.

Oh, fuck!

‘Easy, lady. Let it happen.’ he murmurs, slowly rolling his wetness around my entrance.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

Then he advances, the immense pressure on my opening causing me to impulsively jolt forward. His hand comes up to rest over my shoulder, holding me in place, his other continuing to guide himself into me. I’m physically shaking as the pressure builds and builds.

‘That’s it, Ava. We’re nearly there.’ His voice is jagged and strained, his palm wet on my shoulder as his fingers flex. And then he surges forward on a strangled growl, breaching my muscles and sliding deep into my forbidden place.

‘Shit!’ I cry. That fucking hurts!

‘Oh God, you’re so tight!’ he chokes. ‘Stop fighting, Ava. Relax!’

I pant as I’m thrown into a place between pleasure and agony. The fullness I feel is indescribable, the pain great, but the pleasure…Oh God, the pleasure is beyond description and completely unanticipated. The tightness of my muscles around him has me feeling every pulsing vein and rolling ripple of his erection. My body releases a little of the tension that it’s built up, and in its place…pure pleasure attacks me.

‘Jesus, that feels good. I’m going to move now, okay?’

I nod, inhale a deep breath and firm up my grip of the worktop. His hand leaves my shoulder and trails down my back to join his other on my hips, but I don’t jerk or jolt when he grips me. I’m too busy preparing myself for what’s to come.