Beneath This Man (This Man, #2)(19)

I can’t fight him anymore. I hook my fingers in the waistband of his boxers and press my lips further to his as I push them down his thighs. He lets out a long moan, easing me back down onto the bed, causing me to lose my grip of his shorts, so I place my foot into the band and extend my leg to take them the rest of the way. He’s leaning half on me, half off, his hard, lean body spreading the length of me as he claims my mouth, pushing his body further into mine.

Weaving my fingers through his hair, I relish the friction of his long stubble against my face. It’s too long to be sharp or coarse, so it feels more like a soft brush is being glided across my face.

He separates our mouths and buries his face in my hair as he cups me between my thighs and draws his palm up the centre of my body, slowly over my stomach and then gradually up between my breasts, finishing against my throat.

‘I’ve missed you, baby,’ he murmurs against my neck. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’

‘I’ve missed you, too.’ I hold his head to me. I feel completely cocooned in strength, but he’s not strong at the moment. I feel protected and safe, but I’m aware that it’s me who’s playing the carer at the moment. I’m feeling overwhelmed too – completely overwhelmed with intense feelings for this troubled man.

He moves himself so he’s cradled between my thighs, and I soon feel the wet, slippery head of his morning erection pushing against me. My mind is a jumble of mixed thoughts, but then he rests on his elbows and gazes down at me, like I’m the only thing that exists in his world. Our eyes are fused and saying more than words ever could. I move my hands from the back of his head so my palms are on either side of his handsome face.

‘Thank you for coming back to me,’ he says softly as I stare up into his eyes, drowning in them, emotion flooding my entire being.

I smooth my thumb across his moist lips and slide it into his mouth, withdrawing slowly and resting the tip on his bottom lip. He plants a light kiss on the end and smiles down at me as he lifts his hips while maintaining our eye contact, my pelvis shifting to meet him.

I sigh in pure, unapologetic pleasure as he slowly, unhurriedly and reverently slides deep inside of me. I close my eyes and slip my hands to the back of his head as he fills me completely. He holds still, beating and kicking inside me. His change in breathing to quick, fast bursts of breath is a familiar trait. He’s struggling to maintain control.

‘Look at me,’ he demands between pants, and I force my eyes open and gasp a little when I feel him jerk inside me. ‘I love you.’ he whispers, his voice cracking.

I inhale sharply at the words I’ve desperately needed to hear for so long, but does he think that’s what I want to hear? Does he think that’s all it takes? ‘Don’t, Jesse.’ I close my eyes, my hands falling away from his head.

‘Ava, look at me, now.’ he demands harshly. I drag my swimming eyes open and meet a straight, expressionless face. ‘I’ve been telling you how I feel the whole time.’

‘No, you haven’t. You were hijacking my phone and trying to control me.’ I retort.

He circles his hips into me, drawing a collective moan from both of us. ‘Ava, I’ve never felt like this before.’ He withdraws and pushes deep and high. I try to rein in my scattered thoughts, but a moan escapes. ‘I’ve been surrounded by naked women with no respect for themselves all of my life.’ He places his hands over mine, pinning my wrists on either side of my head.

Thrust.

‘Jesse!’

‘You’re not like them, Ava.’

Thrust.

‘Oh God!’

He pulls back and rams back in. ‘Jesus!’ He stills on a few deep breaths. ‘You’re mine, and mine alone, baby. Just for my eyes, just for my touch and just for my pleasure. Just mine. Do you understand me?’ He withdraws and slowly plunges back in.

‘What about you? Are you just mine?’ I ask, shifting my hips up to capture the delightful penetration.

‘Just yours, Ava. Tell me you love me.’

‘What?’ I cry, when he hits me with a hard drive.

‘You heard me.’ he says softly. ‘Don’t make me f*ck it out of you, baby.’

I’m stunned. I’m melting beneath him, crippled by pleasure and now he’s demanding I tell him that I love him? I do, but should I confess under duress? It’s completely as I expected, though. He’s been trying to make me the opposite of everything he knows, keeping me covered, preventing me from drinking, insisting on me wearing delicate lace instead of harsh leather. But what about the sex?

‘Ava, answer me.’ He pushes high and grinds firmly, a sweat breaking out across his brow. ‘Don’t hold out on me.’

His words hit me like a lightning bolt. Hold out? He’s tried to f*ck a love confession out of me before – in the en-suite last Saturday when he rammed into me repeatedly, demanding I say it. I thought he was looking for reassurance that I wasn’t leaving. I was wrong. How did he know?

There’s another perfect grind and my internal muscles start to spasm, tremors inching their way into the epicentre of my nerve endings. My legs stiffen. ‘How did you know?’ I cry, throwing my head back in despair, both mentally and physically.

‘Damn it, Ava, look at me.’ He hits me with a full, hard strike, and I drag my eyes open on an angry yell. ‘I love you.’ he shouts, reinforcing his words with yet another slow withdraw and hard fast attack of his hips.