Beneath This Man (This Man Trilogy)(39)

He pulls his head back to look at me, the cogs starting to spin wildly as he chews his lip again. ‘Lunch?’

I knew it. He can’t do it. ‘I’m meeting Kate for lunch.’ I dismiss his request.

He pouts. ‘Can’t I come?’

No, he can’t come because I need time with Kate to talk about him and his challenging ways. ‘No.’ I state firmly.

‘I think you’re being unreasonable.’ he complains.

I throw my head back on a laugh. He really is thick skinned, but then I jerk and buck as his grabs my hipbone and squeezes. ‘Stop!’ I screech.

‘No!’

‘Please!’ Tears jump into my eyes as I try to fight him off. I can’t bear it.

‘Lunch?’ he says calmly, as he continues tickling me.

‘Absolutely not!’ I cry through my uncontrollable laughter. This isn’t fair. I’m not submitting. No way!

‘Maybe a sense fuck will do it.’ He releases my hip and I relax, trying to get my erratic breathing under control.

‘Jesse, I can’t be with you every second of the day.’ I try to reason.

‘If you give up work you could be.’ He’s deadly serious.

My eyes widen in disgust. Never! I love my job. ‘Now who is being unreason… Ohhhhh!’ I lose my trail as he plunges deep into me. Oh God, here comes the sense fuck, but what is he trying to get me to submit to? Lunch or retiring? At twenty six? How ridiculous!

He wastes no time breaking me in. He powers into me like a madman. My legs fall open and he pins my wrists on either side of my head. ‘Lunch?’ he asks as he thrusts hard.

My brain has just turned to mush, but it still registers that this is a lunch sense fuck. I’m relieved. Lunch will be easier to relent to, rather than retiring, but I still don’t plan on going down easily. Mr Challenging has a challenge on his hands.

‘No!’ I shout defiantly.

He growls and surges forward, his firmness stroking me hard and fast as he drives in and out like a wild animal. ‘You are so receptive to me.’

I am! He lays one finger on me and I’m all over the place. ‘Jesse, please.’

He hits me hard with his hips and grinds firmly. ‘Baby, let me have lunch with you.’

I shake my head, holding my breath.

‘Do I feel good?’

‘Yes!’ I shout on a rushed exhale. The crest of a booming orgasm descends on me and his grip tightens around my wrists.

‘Say yes.’ he insists harshly, and I know he’s on his way to explosion too.

What if I don’t say yes? What if I hold out on him? ‘No!’ I’m not giving in. He can’t fuck sense into me every time I don’t agree to something.

He hammers on, my thighs tensing, my mind knotted. ‘Ava, give me what I want.’

‘Jesse!’

‘You’re going to come.’

‘Yes!’ I cry. All of the pent up stress of the day is going to come rushing out at any moment.

‘Oh, fuck, baby, you do serious things to me.’ He hits me with another powerful, thundering of his hips.

My mind goes blank, and I’m about to detonate when he stops dead in his tracks, subsequently stopping my imminent orgasm dead in its tracks. ‘What are you doing?’ I scream, completely stunned. I tilt my hips to try and get the friction I need to tip me over the edge, but he pulls his own hips back until he is only just inside me. ‘You bastard!’ I spit.

‘Watch your fucking mouth! Say yes, Ava.’ he pants, but his words are controlled. How is he doing this? I know he’s ready to come.

‘No.’ I affirm.

He shakes his head and then locks eyes with me as he plunges, oh so slowly, and swivels his hips.

‘Ohhh.’ I groan. ‘Faster.’

‘Say the word, Ava.’ He repeats the teasing move. ‘Say it, and you’ll get what you want.’

‘You don’t play fair.’ I complain.

‘You want me to stop?’

‘No!’ I shout in frustration. This is torture at its worst.

He flexes his hold on my wrists. ‘I’ll ask you one more time, baby. Lunch?’ He flicks his hips forward as he asks, and I lose any determination I had to defy him.

‘Fuck me.’ I cry as he looks down at me, amusement plaguing his expression.

‘Watch your mouth.’ He’s grinning. ‘Was that a yes?’

‘YES!’ I scream.

‘Good girl.’ he praises, and then powers forward, hammering into me and tossing me straight back into a fast build-up to release. I stiffen from head to toe as sizzling hotness travels through my blood stream and my skin heats from the friction of being pushed across the carpet by his manic momentum.

‘Jesse!’ I’m gripped from every direction by stabbing shots of pleasure flying through my nervous system, exploding at my core.

I scream.

His drives become more urgent and his breathing loud and erratic as he smashes against me on carnal shouts and releases everything he has, my core muscles clenching greedily onto him, my limp, exhausted body completely helpless to his unforgiving blows.

He collapses on top of me in a sweaty heap and rocks gently against me. ‘My work here is done.’ he pants in my ear.

I lie under his hard, warm body, trying to gather my senses and breath, and wonder if it will always be like this. He gets the results he wants, so yes, it probably will be. I’ve got to learn to deal with this. I’ve got to train myself to repel him. I laugh at such a pointless exercise. I don’t want to repel him.

He pushes himself up on his hands and it’s only now I notice he doesn’t wince. ‘Your hand!’ I cry.

He lifts it up and I can still see slight bruising, but the swelling has subsided massively. ‘It’s fine. Sarah had me keep ice on it for most of the afternoon.’

What?

‘Sarah?’ I blurt without thinking about what tone I should use. It comes out accusingly.

He frowns at me, and I hate myself for sounding so shocked. ‘She was just being a friend.’ he says coolly, but this only heightens my concern. She would have seen his marked wrists. It wouldn’t take much intelligence to figure out where they had come from. Another woman looking after him doesn’t sit well, and the fact that it’s pouty lips really has my jealous streak racing to the surface. She has made it obvious that she doesn’t like me, at the same time making it perfectly obvious that she really likes Jesse. And the women of The Manor will probably treat me with the same brusqueness and …my head hurts.

I suddenly feel extremely uncomfortable with my possessiveness. Good God, I ridicule Jesse for this. I’m a bloody hypocrite and the way he is staring down at me, gaging my mood, isn’t helping. He’s a very desirable man, who assaults women with that fucking smile and has them in puddles at his feet.

I wriggle underneath him to get free and he obliges, letting me up on a frown. I head straight for the bathroom and immerse myself in the hot bath. I’m really not comfortable with these feelings. I’ve never been jealous in my life. I’m going to be fighting women off on a daily basis. That’s a full time job in itself. Maybe I will need to retire.

‘Has someone got a touch of the green eyed monster?’

I look up and see him stood in all of his naked glory by the bathroom doorway. ‘No.’ I scoff. I couldn’t be more obviously jealous if I tried.

He walks over to the bath and steps in behind me, lowering his body until I’m cradled between his legs. He drapes his arms over my shoulders and pulls me back to rest on his chest. ‘Ava, you are the only woman for me,’ he says softly in my ear. ‘And I am all yours.’ He picks up the natural sponge from the edge of the bath, dips it to soak up some water, and then starts running it across my breasts.

‘You need to tell me more about yourself.’

I feel his chest lift on a sigh. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘Is The Manor strictly business or have you mixed it with pleasure?’ I’m pleased with my forward tone. I know he has mixed it with pleasure because Mr Creep who got roughed up by Jesse the day I found out about The Manor’s happenings said as much. And so did Sam, for that matter. Then why am I asking? I feel my blood begin to boil with bitterness.

The sponge pauses between my breasts for a few seconds, but then he continues smoothing it over my body. ‘Dive straight in, why don’t you.’ he says dryly.

‘Tell me.’ I press.

He sighs, so heavily I almost turn around to glare at him, just so he knows I don’t appreciate his bored reaction to my question. ‘I’ve dabbled.’ he says irritably.

Dabbled?

I’m not sure I like the sound of dabbling, especially in this area of enquiry. ‘Are you still dabbling?’

‘No!’ He’s truly defensive.

‘When was the last time you dabbled?’ I don’t think I want to know this. Why am I asking these questions? His sponge strokes pause again. Please don’t tell me he has to think about this.

‘Way before I met you.’ He continues caressing me with the sponge.

‘How long before you met me?’ I need to shut up. I really don’t want to know this stuff, but damn, I can’t stop the stupid questions flying out.

‘Ava, does it matter?’ he’s annoyed.

‘Yes.’ I retort quickly. No, actually, it doesn’t, but his short, huffy answer is prickling my curiosity.