This Man (This Man #1)(16)


by Jodi Ellen Malpas

He removes his hand, replacing it with his lips. ‘Shhhhhh.’ he mumbles against my mouth.

‘Oh God, I feel cheap.’ I whine, leaving his lips and dropping my head to his shoulder. How am I going to walk out of this place without burning bright red and looking as guilty as sin?

‘You’re not cheap. Talk crap like that, I’ll be forced to kick your delicious backside all over my bathroom.’

I snap my head up from his shoulder, looking at him in confusion. ‘Your bathroom?’

‘Yes, my bathroom,’ He smirks at me. ‘I wish they would stop strangers roaming around my home.’ he muses.

‘You live here?’ I’m puzzled. He can’t live here. No one lives here.

‘Well, I will do as of tomorrow. Tell me. Is all this Italian shit worth the outrageously expensive price tag they attached to this place?’ He looks at me expectantly.

Does he actually want me to answer that? ‘Italian shit?’ I splutter, completely insulted.

He laughs, and I think I might slap him. Italian shit? The man is an ignorant arse. Italian shit?

‘You shouldn’t have brought the place if you don’t like the shit that’s in it.’ I fire at him, completely outraged.

‘I can get rid of the shit.’ he quips.

My eyebrows shoot up in a, you-didn’t-just-say-that expression. I’ve spent months breaking my back sourcing all of this Italian shit and this unappreciative swine is just going to get rid? I’ve never been so insulted, or pissed off. I try to wriggle my hands from under his, but he tightens his grip. I shoot him a scowl.

He grins. ‘Unravel your knickers, lady. I wouldn’t get rid of anything in this apartment,’ He kisses me hard. ‘And you’re in this apartment.’ He’s taking my mouth again, possessively, greedily.

I won’t read into that statement too much. My libido has just jumped to attention and I’m happy to comply. I attack him with equal force, thrusting my tongue into his mouth, circling his with mine as he lifts his grip from my hands. They impulsively fly to those taut, rippling shoulders that I love so much.

Wrapping his arm around my middle, he releases my lips and lifts me up from the counter, leaving me hovering above the surface as his other hand finds my knickers and yanks them down my legs. He rests me back down, removing my shoes and letting them tumble to the tiled floor on a loud clatter. I join him in his stripping party, reaching up and pushing his shirt down his broad shoulders, revealing his bare chest in all of its glory. He’s cut to complete perfection. I want to lick every square inch of him.

As I trace my eyes down, I recoil slightly at a nasty scar that’s running across his stomach and rounding onto his left hip. I never noticed it before. The light at The Manor was dim, but that is one hefty scar. It’s slightly faded but bloody big. How did he get that? I elect to not enquire. It could be a sensitive issue, and I don’t want anything to upset this moment. I could just sit here and gawp at him forever, even with the scar that looks so sinister, he’s still beautiful.

I scrunch his shirt up between my hands and chuck it on top of my dress. He raises his eyebrows at me.

‘I’ll buy you a new one.’ I shrug.

He smirks and leans forward, bracing himself on the counter and capturing my lips – all brooding and careful. I reach for his trousers and begin unfastening his belt, whipping it out of his loop holes in one swift pull, instigating a snapping sound to erupt around us.

He pulls back on an arched brow. ‘Are you going to whip me?’

Huh? ‘No,’ I answer uncertainly. Does he like that sort of stuff? I throw his belt to join the pile on the floor and slide my hand between his tight narrow h*ps and the waistband of his trousers. I wrench him forward so we’re nose to nose. ‘Of course, if you want me to…’ Did I just say that?

‘I’ll bear that in mind.’ he says on a half-smile. Obviously, I did. What’s got into me?

Keeping my eyes firmly on his, I start to undo the button on his trousers, my knuckles brushing over his solid erection, causing him to jerk. He squeezes his eyes shut. I slowly undo his fly, sliding my flat hand into his boxers, grazing across the mass of dark blonde hair. He shudders, looking up to the ceiling. The muscles on his chest are rolling and undulating, and I can’t resist leaning forward and flicking my tongue up the centre of his chest bone.

‘Ava, you should know that once I’ve had you, you’re mine.’

I’m too drunk on lust to take any notice of that statement. ‘Hmmm.’ I mumble against his skin, circling his nipple with my tongue and withdrawing my hand from his boxers. I grasp the waist band and ease them down over his tidy, narrow hips. His c**k springs free.

My God, it’s huge! The head is swollen, moist and pointing right at me. The involuntary gasp that escapes my mouth is an indication of my shock. Flicking my eyes to his, I find a small smile tickling the corner of his mouth, which is all the mortifying evidence I need to tell me that he’s picked up on my reaction.

He steps back, kicking his shoes and socks off before removing his trousers and boxers. I’m instantly drawn to his powerfully lean thighs. I’m dribbling at the magnificence stood before me in all of its n**ed glory. I can’t help it.

Gathering some of my shattered confidence, I reach forward slowly, and gently circle my thumb over his tip, watching him as he watches my hand explore him. When I tentatively wrap my hand around the base, I see him struggle with the contact.

‘Shit, Ava.’ he gasps, resting his hands on my hips. I jerk, and he smiles. ‘Ticklish?’

‘Just there.’ I gasp. Oh, it drives me mad!

‘I’ll remember that.’ he says, taking my lips and working my mouth urgently as I begin slow, even strokes of his hardness, increasing the pace when I feel his mouth getting firmer against mine. His hand disappears between my legs, and with one skim of his thumb over my beating clitoris, I’m suddenly catapulted to Central Jesse Cloud Nine. I gasp into his mouth. He bites my lip.

‘You ready?’ he asks urgently. I nod, because speech has completely evaded me.

He rips his hand from the apex of my thighs and knocks me away from his throbbing arousal. In one measured movement, he moves his hands to my backside, lifts me and impales me onto his waiting length.

OUCH! Oh my God and f**king hell!

‘Okay?’ he pants. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Two seconds. I need a few seconds.’ I wrap my legs around him, crying out at the mixture of pleasure and pain. I know he’s not even all of the way in. Jesus, but the man is enormous.

I’m swung around and thrust up against the wall, the coldness of the tiles not bothering me in the slightest as I try to adjust myself to Jesse’s hugeness. He rests his forehead against mine, my hands slipping over his sweat drenched back as he holds still for a few moments, giving me time to adapt to the intrusion.

He pants as he slowly withdraws from me, re-entering on a deliberate, steady thrust. This time he’s in further and the fullness is making my head spin.

‘Can you take more?’ he asks urgently.

More? How much more is there? I can do this, I can do this. I repeat the mantra over and over as I adjust to his size, taking some calming breaths. When I know I’ve got a handle on it, I kiss him slowly, arching my back and pushing my br**sts into his chest. I thrust myself forward, deepening the connection.

‘Ava, tell me you’re ready.’ he breathes.

‘I’m ready.’ I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.

With my prompt, he extracts himself and drives back inside of me more forcefully. I sigh, tilting my h*ps forward in acceptance as he growls in appreciation and repeats his swift thrusts, again and again.

‘You’re mine now, Ava.’ he breathes on a deep, delicious plunge. My head drops forward to rest on his. ‘All mine.’

In one fast move, he pulls back and pounds home. I scream. I’m full to capacity and loving every wonderful bit of it. I grip his shoulders as he increases his thrusts, slamming into me, hitting my womb every time. I yelp in pleasure when he finds my lips, plunging his tongue into my mouth in a desperate claim as our damp, sweat riddled bodies clash and slide together. I’m about to splitter into a million pieces. Holy shit! I’ve never come during penetrative sex!

‘You’re going to come?’ he gasps against my mouth.

‘Yes!’ I shout, sinking my teeth into his bottom lip. He moans. It’s animalistic, but I’m losing control here.

‘Wait for me.’ he demands, pounding harder.

I scream, desperately clenching my muscles around him to try and hold off, but it’s not working. How long will he be? I can’t hold on.

After three more hard strikes, he shouts, ‘Now, Ava!’ And I burst at his command, throwing my head back and screaming his name as I feel hot liquid shoot into me.

He grips me hard, pulling me as close as he can get me and holding me there, burying his face in my exposed throat.

‘Oh, fucccckkkkk!’ he groans against my neck. The long, satisfied moan falling from my own lips is symbolic of how I feel right now. I’m totally satisfied.

He slows his thrusts to ease us both down from our incredible highs, and I hold him tight, my inner muscles contracting around him as he lazily circles his hips.

‘Look at me.’ he orders softly. I pull my head down to look at him, sighing happily as he searches my eyes. He rolls his h*ps again and plants a kiss on the end of my nose. ‘Beautiful.’ he says simply, cupping the back of my head and pushing me towards him so my cheek rests against his shoulder. I could stay like this forever.

My back peels away from the cold wall behind me and I’m carried to the vanity unit with Jesse still buried deep inside me, pulsating and twitching. He slips out and settles me on the counter, clasping his palms on either side of my face and bending to kiss me, his lips lingering on mine in a total display of affection.

‘I didn’t hurt you, did I?’ he asks, his frown line appearing on his forehead.

I dissolve on the spot. I want to smother him in my arms, so I do. I wrap my whole body around him, arms and legs, and cling on to him like my life depends on it. He buries his face in my neck and strokes my back. It’s the most calming sensation I’ve ever felt. I can’t even muster up the energy to feel guilty.

Sarah who?

We remain entwined, a bundle of arms and legs, breathing heavy and holding each other for an age. I want to stay exactly where I am. We could – it is his bathroom. I can’t believe he’s brought the penthouse.

After far too short a time, he leans back, running the back of his knuckles down the side of my face.

‘I didn’t use a condom,’ he says with genuine regret in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I got so carried away. You’re on birth control, right?’

‘Yes, but the pill doesn’t protect me from STD’s.’ I’m such a numb-nut. This man is a God with some serious moves. I dread to think of how many women he’s slept with.

He smiles at me. ‘Ava, I’ve always used a condom,’ He leans forward, kissing my forehead. ‘Except with you,’

Huh? ‘Why?’

He pulls away and has a little chew on his bottom lip. ‘I don’t see straight when I’m near you.’ He puts his boxers and trousers on, and then reaches over me to grab a washcloth from the shelf. I’m about to protest, but then I remember…it’s his. Everything in here is his, except for me. Well, not according to him, but that’s just an impending orgasm talking. The throws of passion can make you say some funny things. He doesn’t see straight? That makes two of us.

He runs the tap, passing the cloth under it and returns to stand before me. I feel exposed, sat here completely naked. This isn’t equal ground. I close my legs to conceal myself, suddenly uncomfortable with my state of undress, but he looks at me, a perplexed look flitting across his handsome face as he pouts, reaches between my legs and spreads them gently.

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