Author: Jodi Ellen Malpas

I feel my knickers being drawn down my legs, my thoughts well and truly scattered when he shifts his body up to sit on his heels, pulling me up to straddle his waiting lap. He reaches under us and positions himself at my opening.

‘Lean back on your hands.’ he orders softly, his voice like gravel, his eyes intense. I lean back, his spare arm wrapping under my waist to support me.

He enters me slowly on a rush of air, his lips parted and moist. I moan in pure, delighted pleasure as he fills me completely. My arms shift a little, and I lock my legs around his waist. He feels so good inside me. I could die now a very happy woman. His other hand joins the one wrapped around my waist, his big hands nearly encompassing me, as he starts directing my hips around in slow, grinding circles, lifting me up slowly before pulling me back down and swiveling again. He’s working us in perfect time to the music. Christ, he’s good. I sigh, long and breathy at the exquisite sensations he’s creating as he lifts, pulls me back down and circles, his own hips following the movements that he has complete control over.

‘Where have you been all my life, Ava?’ he moans on a long, grinding circle.

Growing up! The unwelcome thought reminds me of my lack of knowledge with regards to his age. If I asked him at the height of pleasure, would he answer truthfully? I’m in love with a man and I have no idea how old he is. How ridiculous.

I gasp as I’m lifted and lowered again, the shimmer of a slow building, highly satisfying climax beginning to gather force. I’m hypnotised by him – completely rapt as I watch his face burning with passion, his chest muscles undulating as he guides my body on his. This is slow, meticulous love making, and it’s doing me no favours with regards to my feelings for him – none whatsoever. I’m as addicted to gentle Jesse as I am to dominant Jesse. I’m at a total loss.

His tongue sweeps across his moist bottom lip and his eyes flicker, his frown line working its way across his brow. ‘Promise me something.’ His voice is soft as he swivels his hips on another mind-numbing grind.

I moan. He’s taking advantage of my mesmerised state by asking me to make promises now. But then again, that was more of a demand than a question.

I study him, waiting for his request. ‘You’ll stay with me.’

What? Tonight? Forever? Elaborate, damn it! That definitely wasn’t a question, it was an order. I nod my head as I’m pulled back down and he mumbles incoherent words.

‘I need to hear the words, Ava.’ He circles his hips, penetrating me to the deepest part of my body.

‘Oh God, I will.’ I exhale around the scorching infiltration. My voice is quivering from pleasure and emotion as the forceful throb at my core takes over and I tremble in his hands.

‘You’re going to come.’ he pants.

‘Yes!’

‘Jesus, I love looking at you when you’re like this. Hold it, baby. Not yet.’

My arms start to buckle under me, prompting him to shift his grip to the middle of my back and pull me up so we’re front on front. I cry out as our chests collide and my new position has him penetrating me further. My hands fly up to grasp his back.

He searches my eyes. ‘You’re painfully beautiful and all mine. Kiss me.’

I obey, moving my palms to cup his handsome face and lowering my lips to his. He moans as I plunge my tongue into his mouth, his drives hardening into me.

‘Jesse,’ I plead. I’m going.

‘Control it, baby.’

‘I can’t.’ I pant into his mouth. I’m helpless to his invasion of my mind and body as I tense my thighs around him and shatter all over him. I cry out and trap his bottom lip between my teeth, biting down.

He shouts, rises to his knees, rears back and slams into me on his own release, clenching me to his chest and spilling himself inside of me. He thrusts up one last, powerful time. I cry out.

‘Jesus, Ava. What am I going to do with you?’

Keep me forever, PLEASE!

His face plummets into my neck as he pumps his hips slowly, back and forth, milking every ounce of pleasure from me. I’m dizzy, my head spinning wildly as his heavy, hot breath spreads across my neck and travels down my chest. Every internal muscle I possess grips him as he pulsates inside me. He’s shaking – proper trembling shakes. I wrap my arms around him and squeeze him to me.

‘You’re shaking.’ I mumble the words into his shoulder.

‘You make me so happy.’

Do I? ‘I thought I made you crazy?’

He pulls back and looks me in the eyes, his forehead shimmering in sweat. ‘You make me crazy happy,’ He kisses my nose and sweeps my hair away from my face. ‘You also make me crazy mad.’ He gives me an accusing look. I don’t know why. It’s his own unreasonable, neurotic behavior that makes him crazy mad, not me.

‘I prefer you when you’re crazy happy, you’re scary when you’re crazy mad.’

His lips twitch. ‘Then stop doing things to make me crazy mad.’

I gape at him, but he presses his lips to mine before I can challenge him on that accusation. The man is crazy deluded, on top of everything else.

He rests back down on his heels. ‘I would never hurt you intentionally, Ava. You know that, right?’ The uncertainty is clear in his voice as he brushes a stray hair away from my face.

Now, this I’m absolutely certain of. Well, in the physical sense. It’s the emotional sense that scares me to death. And the fact that he added intentionally should be cause for concern.

I look into the hazy, green pools of this beautiful man. ‘I know.’ I sigh, but I really don’t. And it scares me to death.

He swivels around onto his back, taking me with him, so I’m sprawled across his chest. I shift slightly so I can trace a figure of eight on his stomach, lingering longer over his scar than anywhere else.

It fascinates me in a morbid kind of way, and it’s another mystery behind this man. It’s definitely not a war wound from an operation and it’s not a puncture wound or a slice. It looks far more sinister than that. The thick, jagged wave looks like someone has, literally, plunged a knife into his lower stomach and dragged it all the way around to his side. I shudder. I wouldn’t have thought anyone could survive a wound like it. He must have lost a heap of blood. Dare I press him on this?

‘Were you in the army?’ I ask quietly. This could explain it, and I’ve not asked directly.

He pauses stroking my hair briefly but continues shortly after. ‘No.’ he answers. He doesn’t ask me why I would think that. He knows what I’m getting at. ‘Leave it, Ava.’ he says in that tone – the one that makes me writher on the spot. Yeah, I’m not arguing with that voice, and I certainly don’t want to spoil the moment.

‘Why did you disappear on me?’ I ask a little apprehensively. I need to know.

‘I told you, I was a mess.’

‘Why?’ I press. His answer explains nothing. I feel him tense beneath me.

‘You spark feelings in me.’ he answers softly, and I think I might be getting somewhere.

‘What sort of feeling?’ BOOM!

He sighs. I’ve pushed my luck. ‘All sorts, Ava.’ He sounds irritated by it.

‘Is that a bad thing?’

‘It is when you don’t know how to deal with them.’ He lets out a long, tired breath of air.

I stop with my strokes. He doesn’t know how to deal with the feelings he’s having, so he tries to control me? How will that help? All sorts of feelings? This man talks in code. What does that mean, and why does he sound so frustrated by it?

‘You think I belong to you.’ I start circling my finger again.

‘No, I know you do.’

‘When did you establish that?’

‘When I spent four days trying to get you out of my head.’ He still sounds irritated, while I’m delighted with this news.

‘It didn’t work?’

‘Well, no, I was even crazier. Go to sleep.’ he orders.

‘What were you doing to try and get me out of your head?’

‘It doesn’t matter. It didn’t work, end of. Go to sleep.’

I pout to myself. I think I’ve extracted as much information as I’m going to get. Crazier? I don’t think I ever want to meet that man. All sorts of feeling? That, I think, I like the sound of.

I continue with my swirling patterns over his chest, while he strokes my hair and drops a kiss every now and then. The silence is comfortable and my eyes are getting heavy.

I pull myself further into him, resting my leg over his thigh. ‘Tell me how old you are.’ I garble into his chest.

‘No.’ he replies flatly. I screw my face up in sleepy disgust. I didn’t even get a fake age. I doze off into a peaceful slumber, dreaming of all things crazy.

Chapter 30

I wake up feeling exposed and cold, and I know immediately why. Where is he? I sit up, blowing the hair from my face, to find Jesse on the chaise lounge, bending down.

‘What are you doing?’ My throat is hoarse, not yet broken in.

He looks up and dazzles me with his smile, reserved only for women. How come he’s all bright eyed and bushy tailed? ‘I’m going for a run.’ He bends back down, and I notice he’s tying his trainers.

When he’s finished, he stands up, the full six foot three inches of lean loveliness, all the more lovely in loose, black running shorts and a marl grey vest. I lick my lips and smile admiringly. He has stubble. I could eat him.

‘I’m quite enjoying the view too.’ he says cheerfully. I snap my eyes to his, noting him staring at my chest with an arched brow and a half smile on his handsome face. I follow his gaze and find the cups of my bra are still sitting under my boobs. I leave them as they are, rolling my eyes.

‘What time is it?’ I suddenly have a stomach turning panic moment.

‘Five.’

I gape at him, all wide eyed, before dramatically collapsing back onto the bed. Five? I have at least another hour of sleep. I pull the sheets over my head and close my eyes. But I only get, roughly, three seconds of shut eye, before the sheets are whipped off of me and Jesse is in my face, a wickedly mischievous grin plastered all over his face. I wrap my arms around his neck, trying to pull him down to me, but he pulls against me, and I end up in a standing position before I realise what’s happened.

‘You’re coming,’ he informs me, snapping the cups of my bra back over my boobs. ‘Come on.’ He turns, heading for the bathroom.

I scoff indignantly. ‘No, I’m bloody not.’ He must be mad. I don’t mind a run, but not at five in the morning. ‘I run in the evenings.’ I advise his back, falling back to the bed. I crawl to the top and snuggle back down into the pillows, locating the one that smells the most of fresh water and mint. I’m rudely interrupted from my peace when he grabs my ankle and yanks me to the bottom of the bed. ‘Hey!’ I shout. I manage to take the pillow with me. ‘I’m not coming.’

He leans over, whips the pillow away and narrows his eyes on me. ‘Yes, you are. Mornings are better. Get ready.’ He flips me over and smacks my backside.

‘I don’t have my running kit.’ I say smugly, just as a sports bag lands on the bed next to me. He brought me running kit? ‘You brought these for me?’ I ask incredulously as I sit up. That’s a bit presumptuous. Maybe I don’t like running.

‘I saw your trainers in your room. They’re wrecked. You’ll damage your knees if you keep running in them.’ He stands with his arms folded, waiting for me to change.

It’s the crack of dawn. I’m not even awake yet, and he wants me pounding the pavements and puffing myself out through the streets of London before I’ve even done a day’s work?

Unreasonable!

He sighs, walking over to the sports bag and pulling out all sorts or running paraphernalia. He hands me a sports bra on a smirk. Oh, he really has thought of everything. I snatch it from his hands and remove my lace bra, replacing it with a reinforced shock absorber. My boobs aren’t so big that they need strapping down. Next, he passes me a pair of black running shorts – the same as his but the ladies version – and a fitted, pink running vest. I dress myself under his watchful eye. I can’t believe he’s dragging me out for a run at this time of day.