‘You need to get this code changed.’ I mutter, punching in the developer code. He only has to notify security and they’ll see to it immediately.
He doesn’t say a word. Oh, he’s really working the silent treatment well. I look up, finding him staring at me, studying me closely, completely expressionless. I’m certain that he’s about to pounce and give me some sort of Jesse style fuck. Would he be fucking sense into me, or would it be a reminder fuck? Oh, it’ll probably be an apology fuck! My tipsy brain relishes the thought, but then the elevator doors open and he steps out before me, leaving me to follow behind. I’m shocked. I would have put my life on the certainty of being jumped. Oh well, we’re not in his apartment yet.
He opens the door and strolls in, without so much as looking at me. I’m left to shut the door behind me and follow him into the kitchen, where I find him grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. He takes a few swigs before thrusting it at me.
I don’t bother pushing it away. Last Saturday and the memory of my aching head when I came around is enough of a motive to accept his offering. I drink the water under his watchful eye, placing the empty bottle on the worktop when I’m finished.
‘Turn around.’ he orders.
Oh, here we go! A million fireworks light up inside me as I follow through on his command, turning away from him, my libido screaming, my skin is prickling. The feeling of his warm hands skating over my shoulders has me clenching my jaw and drawing steadying breaths. He grasps the zip of my dress and slowly pulls it down, making a point of sliding his hands down my sides as he drags it down my body, kneeling as he goes. My ankle is tapped and I step out of the pooling material, turning back to look down at him knelt before me.
He gazes up at me, slowly rising to his feet, dragging his nose up between my breasts until he reaches my throat. He breathes into my neck. Oh, yes, I’m mentally begging for him, as per usual.
Latching on with his lips, he nips and licks at my delicate flesh. My skin is burning for him to touch me, I want to grab him. But I know this will be done on his terms.
‘Do you want my mouth on you, Ava?’ he asks softly.
My breath catches in my throat as his voice vibrates against my ear. I sigh, long and breathy.
‘You need to say the word.’ He brushes his lips over my ear. My knees shake.
‘Yes.’ I gasp on an exhale.
‘Do you want me to fuck you, baby?’
‘Jesse.’ I jerk as he strokes between my thighs.
‘I know. You want me.’ He bites down on my ear lobe, the metal of my silver studs chinking against his teeth. I shudder, panting and desperate for him. But then he pulls away, leaving me standing a wanton mass of hormones in front of him. ‘Stay there.’ he orders firmly, walking away.
He’s still fully dressed in his suit as I watch him stride away from me and open a cupboard, taking something out. Chocolate spread? My pulse accelerates.
Calmly, he makes his way back over to me. I run my eyes down his lean physic, delighting in the stiff bulge at his groin. I wait, undemanding and tolerant of his leisurely pace. When he finally reaches me, he gets up close and personal with my face, breathing his hot, minty breath all over me as his lips skim my cheeks, my eyes, my chin, finally resting gently on my lips.
I hum in pure pleasure, opening my mouth, but he breaks our kiss and starts lowering himself down my body. A barrage of heat floods me, my short, sharp breaths becoming suppressed and ragged. Looking up at me as he descends, his nose grazes my lace knickers, triggering my hands to fly out and grab his shoulders for support. He gives me that knowing smile and starts rising again, pressing his body against mine on his way.
‘You’re so affected by me,’ he breathes in my ear.
I shiver, catching my breath. ‘Yes, I am.’
‘I know you are. It…really…fucking…turns…me…on.’ He steps away from me. What’s he doing? His hands come up, and I register him holding my dress in one. And in the other…a pair of scissors.
He wouldn’t? He calmly opens the scissors and sets them at the hem of my dress. Then, very slowly, he snips up the centre as I watch on a gape. It seems he bloody would. A five hundred pound dress? I can’t even locate the ability to stop him or shout at him. I’m utterly stunned.
Not content with having my five hundred pound, taboo dress in two pieces, he proceeds to calmly chop it up into a further few scraps before placing the mutilated material, calmly and precisely with zero emotion, on the island with the scissors. He turns back to face me.
I find my voice. ‘I can’t believe you just did that.’
‘Don’t play games with me, Ava.’ he warns, all calm and controlled. He slips his hands in his trouser pockets and regards me closely as I stand in front of him, unequivocally staggered. All fuzzy tipsiness has completely gone. I’m sound minded, steady and absolutely astounded by his demonstration of so called power.