This Man Confessed(107)

Oh good Lord, my confidence is diminishing fast. I bite painfully down on my lip, determined to keep quiet, as my lace bra is pulled away from my body and dropped to the floor before he leans down, taking my nipple in his mouth and sucking my nub gently until it’s tingling and stiff. I hit my head against the wall, my face distorting as I try urgently to withhold a moan of pleasure.

I fail.

“Ohhhh God,” I groan, banging my head against the wall again.

“Oh dear.” He’s at my lips immediately. “You just can’t control it, can you?”

I shake my head, unashamedly agreeing with him. “No.”

“Which just confirms what we both know, doesn’t it?” He rolls his naked hips upward, forcing me onto my tiptoes to try and escape the rub that will have me losing further control.

I fail again. “Yes,” I say and pant, uncontrolled and grappling at his naked shoulders.

“And what is that, Ava?” He bites my lip and keeps hold while he waits for me to answer.

“You have the power.”

His eyes sparkle in approval, and I reach down to stroke him, but he pulls away from me on a mild head shake.

“I thought we just clarified who has the power.” My hand is pushed away. “And I need to safeguard my current favorable standing with your parents, so you’ll keep quiet.” He’s staring at me, obviously waiting for confirmation that I understand. I do, but I absolutely cannot guarantee my silence. “Can you be quiet, Ava?”

I lie. “Yes.” I’ve been ambushed by him and his potency, and I’m not saying no if it means he’ll tuck me up in bed to snuggle. Pregnancy is doing serious things to me. I’m more desperate than ever, if that’s at all possible.

His eyes blink lazily, an almost undetectable smile flashing across his face, as he reaches up and pulls my hand away from my hair. “It looks like we have a problem,” he whispers. “Don’t move.” He backs away and picks something up, and I’m distracted as he slowly comes toward me again, concealing whatever he’s holding behind his back.

I’m fidgeting, squirming, and thinking real hard about what the hell he’s hiding, but I’m not left suffering for too long. He brings his hands around to the front of him and holds up my lace scarf, then wraps it around his fists and pulls it taut.

“I think we’ll call this one the quiet fuck.” He brings the scarf to my mouth and slips it between my lips. “Keep your tongue relaxed,” he instructs softly, taking it around the back of my head and tying it firmly but not tightly. “If you feel the need to scream, bite down. Understand?”

I nod, my eyes following him as he leans down and removes my knickers. Soon I feel his hot tongue running up the inside of my leg. I don’t want to scream, but I bite down on the scarf anyway, my eyes closing, my drumming heart beating an even pulse in my chest. He makes a point of breathing heavily in my ear as he laces his fingers through mine and pushes my hands up to the wall behind me before kissing down the sensitive flesh of my inside arm, softly and painfully slowly. I quickly fear that the only screaming I’ll be doing will be in impatience. “I think we’ll do this lying down.” His low, sure voice has me praying for control as he brings our hands down, fingers still laced, and then starts walking backward, encouraging me to step with him. Not that I need any encouragement. I’ll follow this man wherever he goes, whether it’s to a bed or to the end of the earth.

He places me gently on the bed, and the tip of my nose is kissed, my hair smoothed from my face, and then I’m turned onto my side slightly, my leg lifted and bent so he can straddle the one still flush with the bed. He edges forward, holding himself with one hand and keeping my leg up with the other, watching what he’s doing, getting closer until he skims my opening. If I could, I’d yelp, but I’m resorted to reaching behind me to grab the headboard. My back bows, even though he’s just holding himself there. It’s torturous.

“Ava,” he says, kissing my foot, “nothing can beat this.” He sinks slowly into me, his head falling back. I overcome the overwhelming need to close my eyes in utter bliss, just so I can watch his face. His jaw tenses, his grip of my ankle increases, his free hand rests on my waist, and his torso sharpens, the lines of every muscle defined and protruding. I so want to feel him there, but I’m immobilized by pleasure, rendering me incapable of moving. He’s right. Nothing can or ever will beat this. It’s agonizingly good, and I’m transfixed on him, completely captivated by him. So incredibly in love with him.