Текст книги "This Man Confessed"

Автор книги: Jodi Ellen Malpas

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Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 34 страниц)

Biting down gently mid-way up his steel length, the tell-tale signs of a regular throb, accompanied by the tensing on his legs which are securing my arms, give me all the prompt I need. My licks and strokes become more forceful, ignoring his demand to keep it gentle. He’s going to come. I moan around him, he bucks on a round of explicit language, but then he’s not in my mouth anymore. He’s pushes himself up to his knees, fists his swollen cock and watches me with parted lips as he finishes. I’m annoyed, but one of my favourite mental images of all time is being refreshed—the erotic, extraordinary vision of Jesse working himself to climax, but this time it’s better because he has just reached up and swept his wet hair from his face, trailing his hand through his dirty blonde mass, ripping the muscles of his chest further. I nearly choke with satisfaction. Given a few more moments, I think I’d orgasm just watching this. Holy shit, he looks divine.

‘Jesus!’ he barks, resting back on his heels and yanking my vest and bra down before positioning his erection between my breasts and spilling his seed all over my chest. He pants, sweating and wet, rolling himself around, spreading himself everywhere.

Marked.

‘Wherever, whenever, baby.’ he puffs, leaning down and hitting me with a forceful attack of his lips. I accept this willingly, too, letting him continue to take whatever he wants. ‘Fucking perfect.’

‘Hmmm,’ I hum, not needing to actually say anything. It was perfect. He is perfect. ‘Come here.’ He sits up, re-arranges my bra and top before standing and lifting me. He carries me to the table, puts me on my chair and points at my plate. ‘Finish your dinner.’

‘I didn’t throw up.’ I say, almost proudly.

‘Well done.’

‘Why didn’t you come in my mouth?’ I ask, as he buttons up his fly.

His serious face falters, but only a little. Taking his seat, he nods at my knife and fork in a silent instruction, and then takes his own. ‘Might poison the babies.’

If I had a mouthful of lamb, I’d choke, but instead I splutter all over the place in a helpless fit of laughter. ‘What?’ I giggle.

He doesn’t repeat himself, he just winks, and I fall in love that little bit more. ‘Eat your dinner, lady.’

Grinning at my plate, I resume my meal, utterly satisfied, despite my lack of orgasm. I’m still bubbling slightly, but I’m not concerned. ‘What are we doing tomorrow?’ I ask.

‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m bingeing.’

‘You’re keeping me locked up in Paradise all weekend?’ I don’t mind, but it would be nice to go for a walk, perhaps, or maybe even have dinner.

‘I wasn’t going to, but locks can be arranged.’ He slips his fork into his mouth and pulls off a piece of stuffed pepper slowly as he looks at me with raised eyebrows. I’m putting ideas in his head.

There’s no comeback from me. I just widen my grin, consumed with happiness as I continue my attempts to finish my meal.

‘God, I love that fucking grin. Show me.’

I’m not grinning now. I’m smiling properly, and he blesses me with his one reserved only for me, twinkling eyes and all. ‘Happy?’ I ask.

‘Fucking delirious.’

Chapter 24

I know that I’m smiling in my sleep. I don’t even need to open my eyes to grasp my bearings. The cool sea breeze wafting in from the open doors, the mix of salty sea air and that pungent perfume is all the reminder I need. Both of those aromas, though, don’t overpower my most favourite scent in the world that’s embedded in every fibre of the crisp cotton sheets that he’s slept in. But he’s not in the bed.

Opening my eyes, the first thing I see is a ginger biscuit, some folic acid and a glass of water. I smile, collecting the pills and swallowing with the water before munching my way through the biscuit. I shuffle to the edge of the bed and don’t bother with underwear or clothes. We’re alone on a deserted beach, and I haven’t forgotten his demand for me to come down to breakfast just like this every morning, except now I can without the worry of Cathy arriving. So I take my naked form out into the main part of the villa to seek out my Lord, but after a few moments of searching, no Lord. I notice the voile at the doors of the living area that lead to the veranda are flapping as the light wind gusts through, so I fight my way through the mass of moving material until I’m on the wooden veranda and taking a deep inhale of fresh air. Perfect. It’s early because the sun is low, but the heat is intense, only slightly weakened by the breeze which is whipping my hair all over my face. I fight to secure it in a loose, messy knot and once my vision is clear, I see him in the distance. He’s running, and he’s running in loose shorts, no t-shirt and no trainers. I lean on the wooden balustrade and happily watch him get closer and closer, his muscular frame shimmering under the morning sun. He could be a mirage.

‘Morning,’ I chirp when he’s a few yards away, sweating and actually a little out of breath. This is unusual. He’s a robot when running, never displaying any signs of fatigue or over exertion.

He grabs a towel that’s draped over a railing and starts rubbing himself on a smile. ‘Good morning, indeed.’ His eyes travel down my nakedness, which is only slightly concealed by the posts that I’m standing behind. ‘How do you feel?’

I have a quick think and do a bodily assessment, concluding that I feel perfect. I don’t feel sick at all. ‘Fine.’

‘Good,’ he approaches the pavilion and looks up at me. ‘Give me a kiss.’

I lean over and peck his lips, his signature smell enhanced by the clean sweat riddling is body. ‘You’re soaked.’

‘That’s because it’s fucking hot.’ He pulls away. ‘Breakfast?’ He asks it as a question, but he doesn’t mean it as a question. If I say no, then without question, I’d be growled at and possibly hauled in and force fed.

‘I’ll make you breakfast.’ I start walking across the veranda, towards our bedroom.

‘Where are you going?’ he calls after me.

‘To put something on.’

‘Hey!’ he shouts, and I turn to see a face awash with disgust. ‘Get your naked arse in that kitchen, lady.’

‘Excuse me?’ I laugh.

‘You heard.’ He’s looking at me expectantly, daring me to defy him.

I look down at my bareness and sigh. He won’t be making such demands when I’m fit to burst. I’ll put him off his food, but for now, I’m comfortable in my skin and he’s clearly comfortable looking at it, so I retrace my steps and enter the villa, via the doors to the kitchen, receiving a swift slap of my backside as I pass Jesse.

* * *

If our normal is me preparing and eating breakfast with both of us butt naked, then I love our normal. If our normal is taking three hours to get ready because neither one of us can keep our hands off each other, then I really love our normal. If our normal is me putting on a summer dress and being looked at like I’ve totally lost my mind, then I’m not so keen on our normal.

‘Think again, lady.’ He rummages through my clothes, cursing and scoffing to himself as he assesses and tosses each of my beach dresses aside. ‘You’ve done this on purpose.’

‘It’s hot.’ I laugh, standing in the centre of the room in my lace, watching as Jesse actually loses his own mind.

‘But Christ, Ava!’ He holds up a strapless playsuit with very short shorts.

‘You said I have great legs.’ I argue.

‘Yes, you have great fucking everything, but that doesn’t mean I want everyone to know it.’ He chucks the playsuit aside and grabs a long, floaty black dress with spaghetti straps. ‘My eyes.’ he affirms. ‘Just for my eyes.’

‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ I snatch the dress from his hands. ‘You were fine with the gown at the anniversary party and my denim shorts.’

‘I wasn’t fine at all. I made an exception, but I saw the way men were looking at you.’

Is he winding me up? ‘I see how women look at you!’

‘Yes, and could you imagine how they’d look at me if I was prancing around half naked?’ He nods at the dress. ‘You can wear that.’

‘You’re often shirtless.’ I point out. ‘You don’t see me rugby tackling you to the floor to conceal your body. Lighten up!’

‘No!’ he yells.

Our scowls are in competition, but his has definitely got the edge. ‘You’re unreasonable.’ I spit. ‘I’m wearing what I like.’ I chuck the black dress at him and retrieve my dusky pink, halter neck summer dress, stepping in and pulling it up my body.

He watches me violently yanking the dress on. ‘Why do you do this to me?’ he asks, impatiently.

‘Because it’s unreasonable for you to think that you can dictate my wardrobe, that’s why.’ I knot the dress behind my neck and smooth it down, ignoring the low, rumbling growl emanating from my unreasonable Lord. I’ll never back down on this element of our normal relationship. ‘It’s not so bad.’

‘You’re too fucking beautiful.’ he mutters sullenly.

I smile and slip my feet into my flip-flops. ‘But I’m your beautiful girl, Jesse.’

‘You are.’ he replies quietly. ‘Mine.’

I take a calming breath and step into his chest. ‘No one will ever take me away from you.’ I don’t know how many times I have to tell him. I know this a fear, but I also know his problem is the army of naked women who have paraded around him naked for the most part of his life. He doesn’t want men to look at me like they look at those women—the way Jesse looked at those women before me.

‘I know,’ he sighs. ‘But is it necessary to pick the tiniest dress on the fucking planet?’

I kiss his cheek. ‘You’re over exaggerating.’

‘I don’t think I am.’ he grumbles, pushing his freshly shaved cheek into my lips. ‘Can we compromise?’

‘Compromise how?’ I ask. He squats and picks up a cardigan, and I start shaking my head. ‘No way, Ward. I’ll pass out.’

Making a ridiculously over-the-top point of demonstrating his exasperation, he drops it and rises from his squatting position. ‘Fine, but I won’t be held accountable if some prick looks at you funny.’

I stare at him a little perplexed as he stands in front of me, looking all fresh and yummy in his heavy board shorts and white Ralph Lauren polo t-shirt, collar turned up, Jesse style. ‘I have to deal with the funny looks that you get daily.’

He grins. ‘Yes, and you trample all over them.’

I laugh and make my way from the room. ‘My trampling ritual is a little milder than yours.’

* * *

Paradise just gets better. Whilst letting Jesse have his way by keeping me locked up at the villa was really very tempting, I wanted to explore with him, walk along holding hands, have lunch and be together in another way. It’s not happened very often since we’ve found each other and though he had a little sulk about it, I know he’s taken pleasure from me in another way today. His arm around my shoulder has kept me snuggly tucked into him and when we ate at a beach bar, he made me sit closely next to him so he could keep his contact.

It’s dusk by the time we’re bumping down the pot holed road, back to the villa. The familiar fragrance hits my nose as we slip through the wooden gates and drive down the cobbled road beneath the canopy of green and white.

‘Have you had a nice day?’ he asks, shutting the engine off and looking at me almost hopefully.

‘I have, thank you. Have you?’

‘I’ve had the best day, baby. But now I get to pick what we do for the rest of the evening.’ He unclips my belt and leans across to open the door for me. ‘Out.’

I follow through on his order, ejecting myself from the soft leather. ‘What are we doing?’

‘We’re going to play a game.’ He’s on my side of the car now, looking down at me with a crafty, raised brow.

‘What sort of game?’ I’m too curious, and it’s obvious.

‘You’ll see.’ My hand is grasped, and I’m led to the villa. ‘Meet me on the rug in the lounge.’ he instructs, dropping a kiss on my bewildered face and leaving me like a loose part by the front door.

Where’s he going? My frowning face watches his back disappear out of the room towards the bedroom, and with little else to do, except follow through on his instruction, I drop my bag and make my way over to the designated rug, sitting myself down in the soft, thick, pile. My curious mind is racing, but not for long. He reappears shuffling a pack of cards.

‘We’re playing cards?’ I ask, trying not to sound disappointed.

‘Yes,’ His short, simple reply is an indication that we will, indeed, be playing cards, no matter how much I protest. Cards?

‘Wouldn’t you rather binge on me?’ I try temptress tactics, with little confidence. I know when I’m going to win, and now isn’t going to be one of those times.

He eyes me warily as he lowers his arse to the rug, leaning up against the back of the couch with his long legs spread at full length in front of him. ‘We’ll play strip poker.’

I’m promptly fidgeting in my seated position. ‘I don’t know how to play poker.’ I’ll lose, but is that such a bad thing? ‘It won’t be a fair game if I don’t know how to play.’ I decide that it will be a bad thing. He’s smug, and I want to wipe that cocky look clean from his face. My competitive side has just raced to the surface.

‘Okay,’ he says slowly, shuffling carefully to match his thoughtful word. ‘How about pontoon?’ He must catch my confused face because he smiles a little. ‘Twenty one? Stick, twist, burn?’

I look at him blankly. ‘Nope, sorry. I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ I stretch my legs out and lean back on my hands. ‘Snap?’

He laughs, that head thrown back, fanning temples laugh—the one I adore. ‘Snap?’

‘Yes, I’m really fast.’

‘Ava, let’s save snap for when the babies arrive.’ He chuckles to himself and deals us two cards each. ‘Okay, I’m the banker and you need to take a look at your cards.’

I shrug and pick them up, noting a ten and a six. ‘Okay.’

‘What do you have?’

‘I’m not telling you!’

He rolls his eyes. ‘We’ll call this a trial run. Tell me what you have.’

I hold my cards to my chest. ‘A ten and a six.’ I say suspiciously.

‘Sixteen, then?’

‘You add them together?’

He’s going to regret this. He might be already. ‘Yes, you add them together.’

‘Right. In that case, I have sixteen.’ I flash him my cards.

He nods his acknowledgment. ‘So the winner is the one who is the closest to twenty one when all players have made their move.’

‘What moves?’ I restrain my grin when he flops his head back, looking up at the ceiling in exasperation.

‘The moves I’m about to explain, Ava.’

‘Oh, okay. Explain away.’

His head comes back down and he blows out a tired breath. He’s definitely regretting this. I bet he’s wishing he’d have opted for bingeing. ‘Right. You have sixteen and you need to get as close to twenty one as possible, without going bust. Bust means over twenty one. Got it?’

‘Got it.’

‘Good. With a total of sixteen, you should twist, which means I deal you another card. Got it?’

‘Got it.’

He pushes another card towards me, and I pick it up stealthily, like he doesn’t already know what I’m holding in my hand. ‘What have you got?’ he asks.

‘A king.’ I’m not a card genius, but I know that makes me bust. I throw my cards on the floor. ‘I didn’t want to twist.’

‘You can’t stick on sixteen, Ava.’

‘But at least I wouldn’t be bust!’

‘No, but it’s likely I’ll beat sixteen, so you may as well risk it.’ He turns his own cards over, revealing a jack and a queen.’

‘Twenty,’ I confirm quickly.

‘Correct. And I’ll stick, so I win.’ He gathers the cards back up and starts shuffling them again. ‘Get it?’

‘Oh, I’m gonna whoop your arse, Ward.’ I rub my hands together and make myself comfortable.

He smiles at my competiveness, probably thinking that I’m deluded. After all, Jesse Ward is amazing at everything. ‘We need to talk about stakes, baby.’

‘I’m not hungry, thank you. You’ve fed me enough today.’

His head falls back again as he laughs really hard. I’m trying to keep a serious face, but I so love him when he laughs. ‘I mean what we’re playing for.’ His green eyes land on me. ‘God, I fucking love you.’

‘I know. What are we playing for?’ I’m liking this game more and more.

‘How many items of clothing do you have on?’ His eyes run the full length of my body, as if he’s mentally working it out.

Playing cards doesn’t seem so bad now. ‘Three. Dress, bra and knickers. Oh, and shoes, so five.’ I point to my flip-flops.

‘Take the flip-flops off.’ he commands. ‘I have two.’ He pulls at his t-shirt and his shorts.’

‘What about your boxers?’

‘They were too much of an obstruction.’ he flips casually, dealing us two cards each. I absolutely know where this is going. No obstructions. ‘The first one naked loses,’ he grins at me. ‘The winner takes the power.’

I gasp at his amused expression. ‘What happened to wherever, whenever?’

‘I’m being reasonable.’ He shrugs, nodding at my cards. ‘Don’t push it. I could always withdraw my offer of potential power.’

I snatch my cards up carefully and hold them close to my face. He’s as confident as ever, giving me an extra item of clothing. ‘There is nothing reasonable about bargaining for the power in our relationship.’ I glance down at my cards, seeing two sevens. ‘I’ll twist.’

He slides a card over to me, maintaining his grin. ‘It’s all part of our normal, lady. There you go.’

‘Thank you.’ I reply politely, pulling my card from the floor and placing it with my others. It’s an eight. I dramatically huff and toss them between us. ‘Bust.’ I grumble.

He smiles and turns his own cards over, revealing a Jack and a nine. ‘I think I’ll stick.’ he muses. ‘You lose.’ I shake my head as I watch him put the cards down and slowly crawl towards me, his eyes burning into mine with rapt intention. My heartbeat is quickening at the sight of his prowling frame nearing, and when he’s up close, he slowly raises his hands to the back of my neck. ‘Let’s lose the dress.’ he whispers, pulling the straps free of the knot. ‘Up you get.’

I force myself to stand when all I want to do is collapse onto my back and let him take me right now. He can keep the power. I don’t want it. Ever. I watch with lust filled eyes as he grasps the hem of my dress and lifts it up over my head, standing as he rises and chucking it onto the couch when it’s separated from my body.

Leaning into my ear, he bites my lobe. ‘Lace.’ he murmurs, blowing a soft stream of hot air onto my skin. I tense, despite my best efforts not to, and just like that, he leaves me standing like a built up bag of desire and resumes position on his arse. ‘Sit.’

I close my eyes and collect my senses. I need to be strong because this really is a game to him. I sit back down in my lace and like the complete temptress that I am, I spread my legs wide and lean back on my hands. If he’s going to play games, then so am I. ‘Deal again, Lord.’

The knowing smile that creeps across his handsome face indicates his awareness. His temptress is living up to her reputation. He deals the cards, I cautiously look, and then immediately declare my intention to stick. He nods thoughtfully and turns his own cards over. He has a nine and a Queen. ‘Stick.’ He looks at me, and I grin, chucking my two Kings down cockily before making my way over on my hands and knees.

I straddle his thighs and take the hem of his t-shirt. ‘Lose the t-shirt.’ I whisper, pulling it up. He lifts his arms willingly, and I throw it behind him, sighing and leaning in to kiss his chest. ‘Hmmm, hard.’ I grind myself into his lap wickedly, instigating a sharp intake of breath from him, but then I remove myself from his lap and resume my position across the rug. ‘Deal.’

It’s quite obvious he’s fighting the urge to tackle me to the rug. I can tell from the discreet adjusting of his groin area and the vicious biting of his lip. He’s really concentrating, and I’m really loving it. The view is improving with each hand I win, too. Just one more, and he’s mine, power and all.

He deals again, and I sweep my cards up, quickly calculating a total of fourteen. ‘Twist, please.’ I gesture for him to pass a card. A two. Total: sixteen. Crap, I really don’t know what to do now. ‘Stick. No twist!’ He goes to pass me another card on a smile. ‘No! No, I’ll stick.’ I wave away the card, and his smile turns into a grin.

‘Indecisive?’ he asks, taking his leaning body back upright, putting way too much emphasis on that chest.

I blink back my peeping eyes, determined not to lose my concentration. I’m not being distracted, but it’s hellish resisting the urge to steal a look. Or even just gawp at it. ‘No, I’m sticking.’ I affirm snootily.

‘Okay,’ He’s desperately fighting a smile as he turns his cards over. ‘Hmmm, sixteen.’ he muses. ‘What to do?’

I shrug. ‘Your call.’ I don’t reinforce his words from our trial run. I’m dying to, but I don’t. I want to see how Mr Amazing at everything plays this one.

‘I’ll twist.’ he says, turning a card over.

I don’t know how, but I manage to keep a straight face when he reveals a six. ‘Oh dear.’ I whisper, taking my eyes from his cards, up his torso, his neck, and then onto his lovely face. ‘You risked it.’ I chuck my cards at him—the ones that collectively total sixteen. ‘I didn’t. Lose the shorts.’

He examines my cards on a faint curve of his lips, shaking his head. ‘You beat me, baby.’

‘I have the power.’ I start crawling my way over to him, not wanting to delay getting my hands on him. That was the longest card game ever. ‘How do you feel about that?’ I un-zip the fly of his shorts.

He doesn’t try to stop me. He pushes his back into the couch to raise his butt so I can negotiate them down his thighs. With the revealing of his arousal, I struggle to contain myself.

‘I’ll ask you the same question.’ he rumbles, low, throatily and with one hundred per cent sex in his tone.

‘I feel powerful.’ I throw his shorts over his head and take the pack of cards from his hand, placing them neatly to one side.

He reaches forward and rubs his thumb over my bottom lip, dragging it, his lips parting his eyes flicking to mine. ‘What has my little temptress got planned?’

I should push his hand away, but I don’t. ‘She’s going to surrender the power.’ I whisper, placing my hands on his thighs and reaching up until we’re touching noses. ‘What does my God say to that?’

He smiles, that glorious smile. ‘Your God says his temptress has learnt well.’ His big hands curl around my wrists and pull my hands up to rest on his shoulders. ‘Your God says his temptress won’t regret surrendering to him.’ His lips press to mine, and his tongue takes a slow sweep through my mouth. ‘But this God and his temptress both know how our normal relationship works.’ He cups me over my lace knickers and rests his forehead on mine. ‘And it works perfectly.’

I go rigid, but bear down on his palm to get some friction. ‘You’re perfect.’ My lips find his and my hands automatically seek out his hair. I’m yanking at it again. I just can’t help it.

‘I know.’ he mumbles around my demanding lips, sliding his hands around my waist and onto my bum. ‘I thought you surrendered the power.’

I couldn’t stop if my life depended on it, and I’m mentally praying on all things holy that he doesn’t stamp his authority because I’m desperate, craving, needing. ‘Please don’t stop me.’ I’m completely unashamed, still driving my tongue into his mouth.

He groans, pulling me into him and showing no sign of halting this. He’s letting me have my way with him. ‘You know I can’t say no to you.’

‘Yes, you can.’ I argue between firm, deep lashes of my tongue, although I’m stupid to remind him of this right now. He often says no, when I’m tired or if he’s really trampling me.

‘Not now.’ He’s standing with me wrapped around him, and I don’t even know it’s happened. I’m too consumed, but when the cool night air attacks my bare back, I’m pulling myself into his body, holding tighter and kissing harder. My brain isn’t given any space to think about where we’re going. I don’t care.

The rushing sound of the night waves gently lapping at the shore line is the first thing I hear. Then I smell the salty essence of the Mediterranean. There’s a chill in the air, but the warmth of his body fit snuggly to mine eliminates any discomfort. I’m burning up, and I don’t think even the Antarctic would cool me off. The wooden sleepers are taken with care as he carries me down to the sea’s edge, but he doesn’t take me into the water. He kneels and places me down on the soft, damp sand, ensuring our lips remain locked the entire time. My hands are wandering all over his muscular frame, my legs are writhing beneath him, and I’m fast losing my breath, my laboured breathing not helped when a gentle wave gushes up and breaks around my sprawled body, surrounding me in a shallow puddle of cool, salty sea water. My shocked, quiet yelp isn’t containable, my fingernails dig into his biceps and my back arches to try and escape the freshness, my lace covered breasts pushing into his bare chest. My burnt up state has instantly cooled.

‘Shhhh.’ he calms me, ‘hush now.’ His soft words relax me in an instant. I don’t know how or even why, I’m still cold, but he never fails to soothe me. He kisses his way into my neck, biting and sucking before he’s kissing his way across my face again. ‘I love you.’ he whispers. ‘I fucking love love love you.’

My heart bursts. ‘I know.’ My mouth skims his. ‘I know you do. Make love to me.’ It’s what we need to do right now. No fucking. No hard. Just love.

‘I never planned on doing anything else.’ He’s pulling at my lace and pushing my knickers down my legs. ‘We’ll call this one sleepy twilight sex.’

My hands are sliding up his arms until my palms are cupping his cheeks. His face is perfectly clear to me, despite the blackness surrounding us. Sleepy twilight sex may be a new favourite. ‘Deal.’ I murmur, shifting my legs to assist in the removal of my underwear.

His arm slips under the small of my back and lifts me a little so he can access the back of my bra. It’s removed with one hand and slid down my arms where I leave it suspended between my two wrists that refuse to release his face. I want to keep my lips on his, the gentle caressing of his tongue on mine sending me right to the highest level of Central Jesse Cloud Nine. My nipples pucker further, tingling with coolness but mostly with desire. And then he’s pulling his face from my hands on a moan and rearing back. He studies me for a few moments before sinking into me meticulously, thoroughly, perfectly, halting when he’s only half submerged.

His face is unreadable, but those greens are telling a whole other story. They are seeping into the deepest part of me. They are spilling with awe and devotion. ‘All the way?’ he asks, so quietly I almost don’t hear him above the light rush of waves.

I nod and tip my hips, quietly impatient. My alluring ploy works. He inhales a shaky breath and quickly lifts me when another wave creeps up on us. I cry out at the coldness again, but his sudden full penetration is more of the cause. He’s holding me against him as the water recedes, my cheek pressed to his throat, and then I’m on my way back down to the sand. My hands find their place on his shoulders and his forearms find their place on either side of my head. And we just look at each other. This in itself is beyond pleasurable. He’s completely filling me, and I can feel him pulsating. I’m even contracting around him, but neither one of us has any urgent need to hurry this along. It’s chilly, we’re both wet, but we’re perfectly happy. Nothing around us exists, just how we like it.

‘Do you want me to move?’ he drops his mouth to mine. ‘Tell me what you want, baby.’

‘Just you. However you come.’

‘I come with uncontrollable love for you. Is that good enough?’

It’s more than good enough. I kiss him instead of answering him, but he pulls away, his heavy, hooded eyes looking for a verbal reply. ‘It’s good enough.’ I accept on a quiet sigh, feeling like I’ve probably just sanctioned his challenging ways. But it is good enough.

‘I’m glad.’ He rocks his hips upwards, drawing a quiet intake of breath from me and strained neck muscles from him. ‘You feel so fucking good. I don’t know how I ever survived without this. I existed, Ava. I didn’t live.’ He pulls gradually out and pushes lazily back into me, pressing his lips to mine to capture my small cry of pleasure, mixed with more coldness as another wave surprises me. ‘Now I live. And it’s only for you.’

‘I understand.’ I say around his mouth, because I know that’s his next question. ‘I understand all of that.’

‘Good. I need you to,’ Out and in again, and there’s a sigh and tensing from both of us. ‘I love our normal.’

I smile, and squirm beneath him on another meticulous plunge. Our normal. I love our normal, too. Our normal is Jesse loving me so violently, it drives him crazy. It’s me returning that love. And it’s me accepting him in all of his challenging ways. I’m so over it.

I’m not even feeling the coolness of the sea lapping around me now. Desire is coursing through my veins, heating my skin, and I’m grabbing on to every drive with every muscle I possess. I equal his passion with my own, kissing him and feeling him, yanking at his hair and moaning. He’s swaying those hips back and forth so precisely, so evenly, that each thrust is hitching me steadily closer to climax. The softness of his tongue exploring every part of my mouth and the hard velvet of his cock sliding in and out of me is utter ecstasy, as always.

I let my displeasure be known when he breaks our mouth contact, but he ignores me, pulling back to study me while he maintains his pace. ‘I need to see you,’ he breathes. ‘I need to see those eyes smoulder when you come for me.’

‘Jesse,’ I’m panting. He won’t have to wait very long at all. The switch is flicking, courtesy of my Lord and his expert way with me. Knowing I’ll get chastised if I close my eyes, I work hard to resist the temptation of throwing my head back and clenching them shut. It’s hard when he’s doing this to me.

He lifts his upper body and braces himself on his fists. ‘She’s close.’ he observes quietly. ‘Control it, Ava. Don’t make me stop.’ He increases his pace, never allowing his eyes to leave mine.

‘Please, don’t stop.’ My hands find their way to his arse and grab on hard, pushing him into me.

‘You know what to do, then.’ He circles firm and deep, almost purposely making this more difficult for me. I bite back a cry, mustering up all of my strength to delay the inevitable until he’s ready. This calls for deep, controlled breaths, so I swallow hard and begin a sequence of breath regulating exercises. He knows that I’m struggling. He knows because there is a faint shimmer of a knowing smile looking down at me, and he’s firming up his strokes. His biceps are bulging, too, indicating a shifting of his fists in the sand where he’s trying to gain more leverage to torment me with his punishing love making. And God does he succeed. Every single time it just gets better and better.