This Man Confessed (Page 91)
I give him heavy, lustful eyes as I lick and suck around my finger, working myself up into a desperate wreck of trembling nerves.
‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ He jerks a little and pauses with his lazy rhythm, seeming to gather his own wits. ‘F*****g hell, Ava.’
Knowing his self-control is slipping, I take advantage and drift back down to my entrance, scissoring my fingers and beginning a measured, meticulous caressing of myself. My back arches, my legs spread further and my head rolls on a groan. I’m rippling all over and releasing uncontrolled bursts of breath as my pleasure builds with my own rhythmic touch.
‘Damn it, Ava. Look at me.’ he hisses. My eyes and head drop at his command. He’s tipping the edge, too. His body has solidified and his fist is working firmer and faster. This only encourages me, my own fingers speeding up, my own body tensing. ‘You’re close, baby.’
‘Yes!’ I’m losing it.
‘Oh Jesus, not yet. Control it.’
‘I can’t!’ I shout, the thought of him stopping this making me panic slightly. I’m brimming. It’s coming. ‘Oh God!’
‘Ava, f**k, control it!’ Now his fist is moving urgently, his head is rolling, but he’s keeping those greens right on me.
I attempt everything. I tense all over, my legs splashing the water as I jerk and fight the convulsions riding through me. ‘Jesse,’ I cry desperately. The buzzing at my core is getting out of control.
‘Ava, you look f**king amazing.’ His unrestrained movements get the better of him and he moans, falling to his knees in the water and letting out a supressed bark.
I move my hand immediately when his head falls between my thighs and his mouth takes over, while he continues to work himself in front of me. The warmth of his lips all over my sex pushes me that little bit further into ecstasy. I’m yanking at his hair, pushing him further into me. I’m going to burst at the seams with pleasure.
And then I do.
My thighs clamp to the sides of his head as I let go on an elongated shudder of comforting bliss and a heavy rush of air. My lungs burst. I go lax. He rolls and laps gently, softly flicking his tongue, and then works his way up my body until he finds my mouth. He pulls me down to my knees and takes my hand, replacing his with mine around his steel shaft. He hasn’t come. ‘My turn.’ he whispers. ‘Hold it against you.’
The wet tip of him meets my c**t, pushing against me, taking the edge off the persistent buzz. I take over, holding him lightly and massaging him to climax. His hands are free now, and they are encasing my neck, holding my head firm as he works my mouth with the same care as I’m working him with my hand. This isn’t urgent and frenzied. This is controlled and relaxed. He can control it so much better than I can.
‘Just keep it like that.’ he mumbles into my mouth. ‘I could stay like this forever.’
‘I love you.’ I don’t know why I feel the need to say this now, but I do anyway.
His tongue sweeps gently through my mouth, he pulls back, he plays with my lips, and then he’s back in my mouth, flirting with my tongue. And the whole time, I just soak up his attention and keep up my seduction of his velvet hardness against me. It’s working me down perfectly and working him up just as well. ‘I know.’ he murmurs, and with a small whimper and hardening of his kiss, he comes, the hot essence of him pouring all over me as he throbs in my hold and moans around our kiss.
‘My work here is done,’ I sigh, releasing him and slipping my fingers into his wet hair, not resisting a little tug.
‘You’re a savage, lady.’ He sits on his heels, pulling me onto his lap. ‘The water’s getting cold.’
I hadn’t noticed, but now he’s mentioned it, I’m starting to shiver. ‘A little.’ I shrug and seek warmth by pushing myself into him.
‘Let me clean you down.’ He tries to pry me away from him, but I mutter a complaint and dig my nails into his back. ‘I’ll be quick. I don’t want you catching a cold.’ More effort is put in to the removal of my body from his and before I know it, I’m being sponged down. ‘My lady’s tired.’ He kisses my nose. ‘Snuggle?’
I nod, and he lifts me from the bath. We dry each other off in silence and find our way to the bed, falling in together and immediately finding our snuggle places—him on his back, me spread all over his chest, my face in his neck and his hands running all over me.
‘I’ll never love one more than the other.’ he proclaims quietly.
I don’t answer him. Instead, I kiss his neck and snuggle deeper.
I could lie here forever, just watching him sleep, the peaceful streams of minty air intermittently reaching my face, reinforcing the deep sense of belonging inside of me. The tender placing of his palm on my tummy is strengthening my love for this man. And the close perfection of his body is swelling my desire for his touch. There are a million things about this man that make me despair, but there are endless things that make me adore him. Some of those despairing things I even adore.
Unable to resist, I reach forward and run my thumb down his stubbled cheek and onto his parted lips, smiling as he twitches a little, and then sighs and settles again, his hand on my belly unconsciously starting to circle. The flawlessness of his beautiful face will amaze me until the day I die—his lightly tanned skin, his almost girly long lashes, the faint crease across his brow. It would take me a lifetime to run through all his stunning features. My devastating man, in all of his challenging ways.