This Man Part 12

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 Ma.s.sive 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 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 s...o...b..ard 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 gla.s.s 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 gla.s.s. 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 gla.s.s 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 ident.i.ty 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 a 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 a 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 b.l.o.o.d.y expect? For me to drop to my knees and kiss his feet? He's obviously use it to. It was just s.e.x, 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 b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l. I don't think he will be any time soon either a 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. .h.i.t me, he grabs me and tosses me onto the worktop, sending my gla.s.s of water crashing to the tiled floor. The gla.s.s 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 a.s.sault, but I'm powerless to stop him, in physical strength and in mental strength. I'm instantly plagued by blazing goose b.u.mps and hot wetness at my core, as he thrusts his hips hard while consuming my mouth. He cups my b.u.m, pulling me closer, keeping his groin tight against me.

Oh, holy s.h.i.t! 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 s.h.i.t liar.'

Yes, this I know. My Mum and Dad tell me all the time. I twiddle my hair when I lie. It's involuntary a 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 b.u.t.ton. '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 unb.u.t.tons 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 b.u.t.ton, 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 pa.s.s 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 l.u.s.t, 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 facade 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 l.u.s.t 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 a.r.s.e.

'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 a 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.

f.u.c.k! I'm not sure if I'm up for that. Matt had tried a few times. It was a flat no f.u.c.king way! More pleasurable route, I think he said a 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 c.l.i.t 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 a 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 f.u.c.k 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 p.r.i.c.kling in their wake, spreading fire through my veins. My b.r.e.a.s.t.s 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 b.u.m 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.

'f.u.c.k, 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 h.e.l.l I'm going to be quiet if he continues with that. My G.o.d, 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 a.s.sault. He hammers back into me tirelessly, leaving no recovering s.p.a.ce 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 o.r.g.a.s.m battle its way forward, a.s.sisted 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 b.u.m. '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 f.u.c.king trying.' I grate. 'Give me time, d.a.m.n it!' He can f.u.c.k right off if he thinks I'm keeping quiet now! I hear him laugh softly as he takes his fingers back down to my c.l.i.t, rolling them around, causing spikes of pleasure to bolt through me.