This Man(118)

He looks up at me, his eyes blazing and desperate. ‘I could rip them off in two seconds flat.’

‘But you won’t.’ My voice is husky and alluring. I’m stunned by my own brashness. ‘You’ll wait.’ I kick my shoes off, sending them flying a few yards across the kitchen.

He follows their course before looking back at me with raised eyebrows. ‘Taking this a bit far, aren’t you?’

I smile sweetly as little by little, inch by inch, I slide my capri pants down my legs and kick them off. I’m stood in my coral lace underwear before this glorious man, and I’ve lost all my inhibitions. It’s an eye-opener. Who would have thought I could be so brash? I like being in charge!

He lifts his hand to stroke my chest. ‘No.’ I utter firmly, his hand floating over my breast bone. It’s not touching me, but the heat emanating from it has me nearly hyperventilating. Here’s me telling him to wait, and I’m as desperate as he is. My self-control is wavering, but I really love this power.

‘Fuck you.’ he mumbles, dropping his hand.

‘Please do.’

He smirks. ‘Beg.’

Beg? How did this turn around so quickly? I don’t think so. ‘I would rather go without.’

‘Leave your hair alone, Ava.’ His eyes darken further. I drop my hair, while he drops his eyes. ‘You’re still wearing your underwear.’

I glance down. ‘What are going to do about that?’

‘I’m going to do nothing,’ he shrugs. ‘Unless you beg,’

‘I don’t think so.’ I say coolly. I’m not backing down.

‘We might be here a while then.’

‘We might.’ I agree.

‘Maybe longer than Friday,’ He’s pokerfaced.

Oh, the sly sod! He just can’t let it drop, can he? I narrow my eyes at him as he raises his eyebrows at me. So, we’re in a stand-off, neither one of us wanting to make the first move. He should! He’s the one who declared he wanted no fucking about, so help him God…

What to do? What to do? And then it comes to me.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t fuck about. I have work tomorrow.’ I turn to leave, hearing that familiar growl I love so much, his arm scooping around my waist and lifting me from my feet. I crumble in half over his forearm. I can’t help it...I laugh.

He paces towards the kitchen island and flips me around, sitting me on the cold granite. His eyes are full of displeasure at my little joke. ‘When will you fucking listen, lady? You’re not going anywhere,’ He nudges my thighs apart, edging between them with his hands on my waist, his face deadly serious.

I’m still recovering from my laughing fit, but it soon subsides when he pulls me forward to meet his groin, his erection rubbing me in just the right spot. I moan, placing my hands around his neck.

‘And watch your mouth.’ he grumbles, his concentration slash concern frown, not so light on his forehead. It’s concern this time. Is he really serious about me never going anywhere?

What? Ever?

‘I’m sorry.’ I say genuinely. I shouldn’t play with him like that. It’s obvious he has issues with non-conformity.

‘You really know how to rub me up the wrong way,’ he mutters. ‘We do things my way from now on.’

‘We always do things your way.’ I sulk on a pout.

‘Correct. Get use to it.’

He stands before me, pulling his jumper up over his head, kicking his Grensons off, before making quick work of his jeans and boxers. I sit patiently, more than happy to watch him undress. This man is a God. I drag my eyes down the full loveliness of him, briefly faltering on his scar and settling on his thick, pulsing erection.

‘It’s rude to stare.’ he says softly.

My eyes jump to his, uncertain as to whether he’s referring to me looking at his scar or his beautiful manhood. He doesn’t elaborate. He moves back into me, reaching around my back to unhook my bra, slowly drawing it down my arms and tossing it behind him.

Resting his hands on the edge of the worktop, he watches me as he leans down and takes a nipple in his mouth, slowly swirling and flicking it with his tongue.

In pure, unashamed bliss, I sigh, reaching up to lace my fingers in his hair as he divides his attention between each of my breasts. My head falls back and I close my eyes, absorbing his attentive mouth. I really don’t mind letting him take control. In fact, I love it.

His tongue starts a lazy trail up the centre of my body, finishing with a soft kiss on my chin. ‘Lift.’ he commands, grasping my knickers. I brace myself up on the worktop, letting him pull them down my legs. ‘I’ll be back. I’m a bit peckish.’