She bursts into laughter, and the sound is heaven.
“I might stretch to some handcuffs, though,” I say thoughtfully, and she smiles. Ava cuffed to my bed? It would be amazing.
“This doesn’t turn you on, does it?” she says, finally asking what she’s been desperate to ask since I let her stumble in here.
I take her in my hold and get us moving. “There’s only one thing in this world that turns me on,” I whisper into her hair. “And I love her in lace.”
Love.Iloveher in lace. Iloveher in my bed. Iloveher full stop. Did she hear that?
“Take me home,” she says, looking at me with aching eyes.
I kiss her, simply because I can’tnotkiss her. “Are you making demands?”
“Yes. You’ve not been inside me for too long. It’s not acceptable.”
Jesus, those words. Make love to her. Take her to paradise. Then talk to her.
“You’re right; it’s not acceptable.” All of this is not acceptable. She needs the truth. She needs to know the real me. I hug her into my side and walk us back to the car, showering her head with kisses.
I’m no longer a man I recognize.
What I can’t fathom is whether that’s a good thing or not.
33
I’m awash with purpose,although it’s purpose of another kind. My plan has been shattered. All I can think about is getting her into my bed. Getting her under me. Worshipping every inch of her and more. My confessions are forgotten, my urgency growing the closer we get to the penthouse. She’s fidgety. Flushed. Begging for me.
I’m about to blow her world apart. Sate her need. I don’t think my heart has ever pounded so hard.
By the time we’re in the elevator, I’m set to explode, and yet I don’t get the chance to pounce. Ava beats me to it, pushing into my chest, catching me off guard. I stagger, my back slamming into the wall, and she’s on me, her mouth and hands everywhere, leading the way. And, of course, I’m with her, my fingers gripping her neck, securing her, my mouth working hers with equal energy. It’s crazy, clumsy passion, desperation embodied. This. I’ve never had this before. It’s empowering. It’s terrifying. Empowering because it gives me hope. Terrifying because I’ve lost the only people I’ve ever loved this fiercely.
“The doors,” I mumble jaggedly as her tongue swirls and stabs with mine, her hands holding my face, her whimpers and moans endless. I push my back from the wall and start moving blindly forward, as Ava steps back, unwilling to detach herself. I fumble and feel my way to the door, struggling to unlock it. “Easy,” I say, pushing at the handle. The door releases, and we fall over the threshold, a chaotic mess of bodies. It’ll take too long to get upstairs at this rate, so I pick her up, win back some control, and walk us to the kitchen.
Music. I need music. I find the control and flick on the system, then make fast work of getting her to my bedroom as Placebo’sRunning up that Hillgradually builds.
“I want you in bed.” But I also need to slow this down before it’s over too quickly. I kick the bedroom door open, set her down by the bed, and instruct her to turn around. She slowly pivots, giving me her back. I reach forward, my hands shaking terribly, and start to unfasten the buttons on the back of her dress. “Please tell me you have lace on. I need you in lace.” She doesn’t have a chance to confirm. Her dress hits the floor, and my heart joins it. Jesus. I can only stare, mesmerized, as she returns to face me. My eyes fixed on her boobs, I extend a hand and pull one cup down, stroking across her nipple with the back of my hand. Her body concaves, like she’s trying to escape my touch. Or more, struggling to deal with the contact. I remove my T-shirt and toss it aside, and her eyes fall onto my chest, her wonder obvious. It’s somewhere close to mine.
“Have you had a nice day?” I dip and remove my shoes.
“I’ve had a lovely day.” Her voice is pure hunger, her eyes pure awe.
“Me too.” I swallow, kicking aside my conscience, which is currently reminding me of the vows I made. “Shall we make it even better?”
“Yes,” she whispers, not moving, waiting for me to claim her.
“Come here,” I order gently. She’s pushed up against me in a heartbeat, her hands stroking my chest, looking at me with so much fucking love. It’s love. Can’t be anything else. She loves me.
I lift her, and her legs coil around my body, her touch moving to my head. My mouth finds hers again, except this time we both seem content to take it slowly, our moves, our kiss, matching the dull, slow beats of the music. I lower her to the bed and crowd her, settling her arms on the pillow before rising to my knees. And I watch her watching me, her eyes heavy, her gaze concentrated.Say it. Tell her.But what if she doesn’t say it back? What if I’m completely mistaken? What if my instinct is playing tricks on me? What if it really was the alcohol talking for her that night? This uncertainty, the second-guessing, is driving me to distraction.
I extend a hand and roll my fingertip around her nipple, making her back bow subtly. “I could sit and watch you writhe under my touch all day.” Watch her body respond so willingly. So naturally. “Stay where you are.” I move down the bed, peeling her knickers off as I do, and her legs shift, exposing her entrance, her flesh glistening with her desire. I stand, swallow repeatedly, my eyes nailed just there as I remove my jeans and boxers. I bend, resting my weight on my fists, and crawl up her body, dragging my tongue across her pussy.
“Oh God, God, God!”
My greedy tongue dives into her, licking and lapping every inch I can reach, kissing her, sucking, making love to her with my mouth. I force my hand onto her hip, fighting to hold her still, her arse constantly leaving the mattress as she squirms. Lord, help me, I’m lost.
I send her wild, as well as myself, exploring her flesh like it’s a new and wondrous thing. It kind of is. I’ve never paid much attention to pleasing a woman. Never cared much for leaving a lasting impression. I’m usually laced with alcohol, my mind foggy. With Ava, though, I get so much joy from hearing and seeing her desire. And for that, I need to be totally with it. Even if, technically, I’m far from with it. She fogs my mind in other ways. Distorts everything.
She’s out of control under my ravenous tongue, throbbing violently. I can feel her release on the tip of my tongue, and it tastes out of this fucking world. I wince when she fists my hair, and she bellows to the ceiling, my hands now unable to hold her down, and I lock my lips around her and suck hard, easing off as I feel her body begin to soften. She’s sweating and heaving. Seeing her like this, so crazed as she orgasms, so out of control, hits me hard in my cock. I could come right now.