This Man Confessed (36 page)

“Mouth, Ava.” His tongue enters me and then licks an unspeakably delicious stroke up my middle. I cry out, my head thrashing from side to side. “Incredible?” He’s cocky and sure, and has earned that privilege. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

My fisted hand that is now clenching at his hair should tell him all he needs to know—that and my inaudible mumbling. I’m seeing stars, my belly is aching, and my poor legs are unable to move. And then his fingers are inside me and my hands leave the sofa and his hair in favor of my own head. My stomach muscles are rigid as I lift my upper body up to try and quench the charging surge of pressure that’s descending from my tummy to my core. I decide in my fevered bliss that I want to see him, so I prop myself up on my elbows and gaze down the length of my body, seeing his palm resting on my stomach, while his fingers fuck me slowly.

“Tell me.” He pushes, sweeping through me with agonizing precision.

“It feels like you were made to fit me.” My words are even and as sure as the expression on his face. He thinks that, too.

He smiles and leans in, tenderly kissing my sensitive skin before rising to his feet and grasping me under my thighs, lifting my lower body to position himself. I find my upper body lifting, too, my hands palm down behind me so I have the best view of him entering me. And it really is the best view. We both focus on his rigid cock as he brings it to me, meeting my entrance and hovering for a while, just skimming my damp void, teasingly. I’m ever impatient, my lower legs curling around his lower back and pulling him toward me, but he’s going nowhere. Not until he says so. And he doesn’t say so. He just smirks that almost undetectable smirk while he keeps his eyes down, still teasing me with irregular and torturous skims of his slippery head across the very tip of my oversensitive small nub of nerves. He’s killing me, and I’m dying to lay myself back down, but I’m too engrossed by his cruel pleasure.

“Shall we try penetration?” he asks, but he still won’t look at me. I’m going out of my mind, but that defiance in me, coupled with his self-assured attitude, has me determined to match his poise.

“If you like.” My calm, aloof words have his greens leaving their rapt focus point on a surprised twinkle.

“If I like?” He pushes into me, only very slightly, but enough to force me to repress a moan. “What about if
you
like?” In a little farther he goes. I know my lips have just parted, and I know my chest is expanding fast. I’m held in place with one arm while his other hand reaches forward and yanks the cups of my bra down. Each nipple is given a sharp pinch, and I bite back a scream of pleasure mixed with intense pain. “My beautiful girl is trying to play it cool,” he muses, adjusting his grip of me, ready to pound forward. “It’s a shame she’s shit at feigning casualness.” He doesn’t pound forward, though. He eases in lazily, and my head rolls back on a groan. “That’s more like it.” He’s completely submerged within me now, the tip of his impressive cock brushing my womb. “Show a bit of appreciation, Ava.” He extracts himself, and this time he really does pound forward, surprisingly hard. My arms begin to shake, followed by my head in despair.

“Again,” I demand. He’s teased me too far this time. “Again!”

“That depends.”

“On what? You said it doesn’t always need to be hard.” I’m battling to catch my breath, swallowing repeatedly. “Then you do this to me. Have you finally read the part of the book that confirms you won’t hurt the babies?”

“Yes.” He strikes with utter accuracy, buckling my arms, but then holds still again. “It’s a good book.”

“It’s a good book now.”

“It was always a good book, but it did say you must listen to your body.” He slides out again and pushes forward on a moan.

“I’m listening, and it’s saying harder.”

“The babies are protected. I read that.” He hisses and blows out a controlled breath. “And I can spank you, apparently.” His palm collides with my arse on a loud smack, and I yelp.

“You’ve already slapped me!” I remind him on a shout as he reenters me.

“But I didn’t think you were pregnant then.”
He
reminds
me
on another sharp assault of his palm across my bum. “Good?”

“Yes!” I persuade my head to lift and when it does, I go dizzy with gratefulness. My tongue leaves my mouth of its own accord and journeys across my bottom lip slowly, enticingly. “You look amazing.” I breathe, watching each finely tuned muscle on his abdomen bunch and his biceps bulge from holding my lower body to him.

“I know.” He grinds smooth and slow.

“Oh God!” My arms finally give in, collapsing and leaving me flat on my back.

“I know,” he agrees. “I fucking know.”

“Jesse, I’m going to come.”

“I’m not!” Out and in he slides all over again. “Are you listening to your body, Ava?”

“Yes! And it’s telling me I need to come!”

Slap!
“Don’t be fucking smart!” He swivels, pulls free completely, and slips his cock straight up my center, instigating a stupidly satisfying friction of his flesh against mine. He’s shaking. I can feel it traveling through his arms and into my legs, but he maintains his silky smooth thrusts. “Fuck, I need to be all over you.” My lower body is dropped and my hands grasped, pulling me up to his standing body with an easy tug. I’m on the rug, beneath him in no time at all, my nipples being teased by his tongue and his hand between my thighs, guiding himself back to me.

Now that I can feel his skin, I notice just how sweaty he is. My hands are feeling out every inch of him. “Kiss me,” I plead, and he doesn’t mess about. Our mouths are together, he’s sliding back inside of me, and our bodies are touching in every place possible. His momentum is perfect, and I’m rocking my hips up to meet him on every drive, capturing the spikes of pleasure that each one of his plunges is instigating. My hands land on his arse and my nails dig into his solid cheeks as he ravishes me with his mouth, our tongues dancing wildly and hungrily.

“I think…” He’s on my cheek, pushing on. “You should…” Now he’s at my neck, then he’s biting at the lobe of my ear. “Quit your job.”

I shake my head, tipping my hips up on a long, happy moan. “No.”

“But I want to spend every day doing this. Give me back your mouth.”

I turn my head into to him. “You’ll have to wait until I get home.” I’m biting his lip now and pushing my hands into his arse to gain some friction.

He bites me back. “Wherever, whenever.”

“Except when I’m at work. Deeper.”

“Oh, so she can make the demands, then?” He doesn’t go deeper, the bastard.

“I’m not quitting my job.”

“And how do you expect to look after my babies if you’re working?” He asks the arrogant question around my mouth on a painfully perfect rotation of his hips.

“But you want me at home to do this, not to look after your babies.”

“Now you’re just being awkward.” He abandons my mouth and leans down to bite my nipple before kissing his way back up my body. “Deeper?”

“Please.”

“Okay.” He goes deep. Very deep. So lusciously, amazingly deep.

“Hmmmmm.”

He stills and concentrates on kissing the life out of me. “Do you see? I’m giving you what you want.”

He most definitely is, but I know where this is going, and it’s called a sense fuck without the brute force. I need to be careful here. “Ohhhhh!” I’m tinkering on the edge of orgasm obliteration, but this is so nice—just steady lovemaking, feeling each other, and taking our blissful time.

He swallows my sated moan, continuing to explore my mouth, like he’s never had it before. Our sex sessions, whether steamy or romantic, hard or soft, are always like the first time all over again. “You should show your gratitude.” He leaves my mouth and braces his upper body on his arms. “Don’t you think?” He looks down between our bodies as he rears back, and I look down, too, seeing the full length of him emerging from my passage. “Look at that.” He sighs and holds himself, just breaching my opening, and then he looks up at me. “Just fucking perfect.” He sinks in, smooth and slow on a long rush of hot breath that warms my face, even from his raised position. I’m starting to tremble and my useless arms fall back over my head. “She’s beginning to pant,” he states, dropping to his forearms. “She’s trembling all over.” His hips falter in their meticulous assault and judder forward.

I’m holding my breath now, tensing everywhere ready to ride out my climax.

“I think she wants to come.”

I start shaking my head, even though I mean to nod and scream
yes
. I’m squirming under the hard, cut beauty of his body, our sweaty skin blending and sliding. My redundant arms and hands are rapidly rising, deciding all on their own that there is something they’d like to do. My fingers thread through that dirty blond mass and grip hard.

“She definitely wants to come.” He sounds self-assured and cool, but his own body is having a fit of spasms as he tries to maintain his stable tempo. He’s failing on every level. His hip movements have become unpredictable, indicating his pending orgasm and his fast loss of control. “Fuck!”

And that word seals the deal. He’s way past the point of return, so I seize my opportunity, pulling harder on his hair and reaching up to sink my teeth into his sweat-glistened shoulder in an attempt to suppress my scream of release and encourage his. It works, as I knew it would.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He’s working harder and faster into me, burying his face into my hair. “Now, Ava!”

I’m done for. I unclamp my teeth from his flesh and join him in his frantic oblivion of raw, carnal pleasure, throwing my arms around his neck and rolling my hips up to meet the last thorough thrash of his body into mine.

He collapses onto me carefully, but grinds slowly as he nibbles on my neck through his labored breathing. “Please quit,” he begs. “Then we really can stay like this forever.”

I can’t find my vocal cords, except to mumble some objection, which I do with an increase of pressure of my arms around his neck.

“Was that a yes?” He licks up the salty skin of my cheek and across my lips. “Say yes.”

“No.”

“Stubborn woman.” He pecks my lips and rolls onto his back, ensuring he remains snugly inside me and I’m comfortable on his lap. “We need to renew our vows.”

I frown and take a few moments to gather enough air in my lungs to form a sentence. “We’ve not even been married a month.”

My hips are seized and I tense, but then I watch as his eyes drift onto my stomach and his warning look transforms into a smile as he shifts his threatening hands to my small-ish bump and starts caressing it. “Yes, only a month and you’ve already forgotten a significant part of your promise.”

“You can take your
obey
and swivel on it.” I manage to get those words out just fine. I also manage to lift my heavy arms and wrap my palms around his neck.

He feigns a choke on a grin and pulls me down by the tops of my arms, curling his big palms around
my
neck. We’re both ready to strangle each other. “Who’d win?” he asks, getting nose to nose with me.

“You.”

“Correct,” he agrees. “I’m thirsty.”

I give a little shake of his neck, making him laugh. “I’ll get some water.”

“You can’t pick and choose when you fulfill your wifely duties.” He pushes me from his strewn body and lifts slightly to catch a slap of my arse as I walk away. “Water, wench!”

“Don’t push it, Ward,” I caution, snapping the cups of my bra back over my breasts and taking my mostly naked form into the kitchen.

“Don’t even think about coming back in here until I can see your breasts again, lady!” he shouts after me.

I have the biggest grin on my face as I open the fridge and collect two bottles of water. I also snatch another item that’s sitting all on its lonesome on the bottom shelf. I’m grinning again.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Jesse’s affronted tone is the first thing to hit my ears when I reappear. He’s staring at my bra-covered chest.

“I heard you.” I drop the bottles on the couch and keep my Jesse surprise behind my back.

He’s still flat on his back and he’s looking up at me with suspicious green eyes. “My wife has a crafty look on her beautiful face.” He slowly sits up and positions his back against the couch, then pats his lap. “And she’s hiding something from me.” He reaches behind him and grabs a bottle of water, having a long swig before screwing the lid on slowly.

“Crafty-ish.” Taking his cue, I lower onto him and shift forward when he drops the bottle and cups my arse with both big palms.

“There’s no ‘–ish’ about it.” One of his hands leaves my bum, but only long enough to yank the cups of my bra down again. Then it’s firmly replaced. “What are you hiding?”

“Something,” I tease, moving to the side when he tries to crane his neck to get a peek. “No,” I warn, and he huffs a little before resting back against the couch. I unscrew the lid behind my back and drop it before presenting the jar to my god, whose curious eyes have just sprung wide open in delight at the sight before him.

“I’m in control.” I grin.

His eyes widen farther but this time in outrage. “Oh no. Not where that’s concerned. Forget it, no way, never.” His hand makes a grab for it, but my stealthy move whips it from under his nose.

“Relax.” I laugh, pushing him back against the couch. The urge to cuddle him overwhelms my teasing streak when I see his concerned frown wriggle its way onto his brow, and that bottom lip is being nibbled away as he watches my hand move slowly to the jar and my finger disappear within the depths of creamy goo. I actually grimace as my finger squelches back out, and I know my nose has just wrinkled in disgust at the sight of a huge dollop all over my index finger.

“Don’t tease me with it, baby.” His eyes are fixated on my coated finger, and they follow my trail as I bring the gloop down and wipe it all over my nipple. It’s freezing cold and disgusting, but the look of thorough exhilaration that has just landed on my rogue’s face is enough of an incentive to battle forward.

His eyes flick to mine. “Oops.” I grin as his head leisurely creeps forward, all slow and casual, which is absurd because I know he’s dying to clean it all off, and not just because he wants my breast in his mouth.