This Man Confessed(109)

He turns his head and kisses my palm before lowering himself onto his elbows and tucking his fingers under the scarf, pulling it down over my chin so it rests on my neck. I can talk, but funnily enough, I don’t want to say anything now. I’m holding Jesse’s face, soaking up the happiness oozing from his beautiful greens, and I’m happy to do just that.

“I want to kiss you,” he declares, but while his little proclamation is sweet, it’s also light-years away from the usual kiss me demand. That is probably why my brow is completely furrowed and Jesse’s eyes are sparkling in amusement.

“You do?”

“Hmm.” He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and watches intently. “I really do.”

“You can kiss me.” Being gagged has dried my throat out, making my voice rough and low.

His thumb reaches the corner of my mouth, and then sets off again, back across my lips. “I’m not asking permission.” His eyes close and reopen, landing directly on mine. “I’m just thinking out loud.”

“Why don’t you stop thinking and do.” I raise my hips, signaling that kissing me is not the only thing I’d like him to do. Jesse working himself up is really going to work me down. I’m still buzzing, his arousal still held snugly inside of me.

“Are you demanding, Mrs. Ward?”

“Are you denying, Mr. Ward?”

“No, but you do—”

“I know who has the power,” I interrupt, and he gives me that roguish grin as he slowly dips, his lips finding mine and taking what I’m so willing to give.

“I’ve never tasted anything so good.” His hips swivel, sweeping through my remnants of pleasure.

“Not even an Ava éclair?” I ask around his lush, wet mouth.

“Not even an Ava éclair,” he confirms, nibbling his way up to my ear. “Not even peanut butter,” he murmurs, reaching down and hooking his arm under my knee. He pulls my bent leg upward and plants his fist in the mattress so my leg is draped over his arm. “Just pure,” he sucks my earlobe, “raw,” he bites down, “naked,” and then drags it teasingly through his teeth. I shudder as he skims across my cheek and plunges his tongue into my mouth. “Ava,” he finishes on a whisper. “Pure, raw, naked, Ava. And I’ve got her for three whole days…all…to…myself.”

I smile around his lips and find his hair, unable to resist a playful yank as he moans and pleasures me with those damn delectable, wonderfully talented hips. Deep grinds. Firm dives. Easy retreats. I sigh, and when I feel the rolling waves of his muscles tensing around my body, I know that he’s tipping the edge, so I harden my kiss, yank at his hair a little more, and moan. He’s blazing, and he pulls away on a gasp. My hands move straight to his neck. The throbbing in his neck vein is matching his labored breaths, and our eyes lock, his full of hunger, mine full of surrender.

“My heart’s bucking wildly,” he murmurs, pushing into me one last, deep, steady time and just holding himself there as he inhales severely and begins to shake. “Fuck, that feels good.”

I’m not joining him in his climax, but it doesn’t stop me from whimpering shallowly and sucking in my own sharp breath, my thighs finding his waist and my arms moving to his shoulders to pull him down. I kiss him deeply, invading his mouth forcefully, helping him through the twitching and jerking of his body.

“Good?” I ask around his mouth.

He keeps our kiss up and bites my tongue lightly. “Don’t ask stupid fucking questions.” He rolls onto his back and lifts his arm for me to find my happy place. My fingertips find his scar and start their usual trailing from side-to-side as he pulls me in snugly and breathes into my hair. “Okay?”

“Don’t ask stupid fucking questions.” I grin into the side of his chest.

“Ava, one day I’m going to shove a bar of soap in your mouth.”

He probably would. “What time are we leaving?”

“Seven-ish. We’re flying at noon from Heathrow.”

“Heathrow? We’ve got to drive all the way back to London?” Is he kidding me?

“Yes. It was the only place where I could get a flight at such short notice.”

“You could’ve got something from Bristol, at least.” I just can’t help myself.

“Shut up. Let’s talk about our plans for the weekend.”

“Have you made plans?”

“Yes, it involves lots of lace and even more naked flesh.”

Just me, Jesse, and lots of naked flesh, after lots of lace has been removed…slowly. I smile, snuggle deeper, and let my sleepy mind wander to all things Jesse-ish.