This Man Confessed(151)

I turn my head into to him. “You’ll have to wait until I get home.” I’m biting his lip now and pushing my hands into his arse to gain some friction.

He bites me back. “Wherever, whenever.”

“Except when I’m at work. Deeper.”

“Oh, so she can make the demands, then?” He doesn’t go deeper, the bastard.

“I’m not quitting my job.”

“And how do you expect to look after my babies if you’re working?” He asks the arrogant question around my mouth on a painfully perfect rotation of his hips.

“But you want me at home to do this, not to look after your babies.”

“Now you’re just being awkward.” He abandons my mouth and leans down to bite my nipple before kissing his way back up my body. “Deeper?”

“Please.”

“Okay.” He goes deep. Very deep. So lusciously, amazingly deep.

“Hmmmmm.”

He stills and concentrates on kissing the life out of me. “Do you see? I’m giving you what you want.”

He most definitely is, but I know where this is going, and it’s called a sense fuck without the brute force. I need to be careful here. “Ohhhhh!” I’m tinkering on the edge of orgasm obliteration, but this is so nice—just steady lovemaking, feeling each other, and taking our blissful time.

He swallows my sated moan, continuing to explore my mouth, like he’s never had it before. Our sex sessions, whether steamy or romantic, hard or soft, are always like the first time all over again. “You should show your gratitude.” He leaves my mouth and braces his upper body on his arms. “Don’t you think?” He looks down between our bodies as he rears back, and I look down, too, seeing the full length of him emerging from my passage. “Look at that.” He sighs and holds himself, just breaching my opening, and then he looks up at me. “Just fucking perfect.” He sinks in, smooth and slow on a long rush of hot breath that warms my face, even from his raised position. I’m starting to tremble and my useless arms fall back over my head. “She’s beginning to pant,” he states, dropping to his forearms. “She’s trembling all over.” His hips falter in their meticulous assault and judder forward.

I’m holding my breath now, tensing everywhere ready to ride out my climax.

“I think she wants to come.”

I start shaking my head, even though I mean to nod and scream yes. I’m squirming under the hard, cut beauty of his body, our sweaty skin blending and sliding. My redundant arms and hands are rapidly rising, deciding all on their own that there is something they’d like to do. My fingers thread through that dirty blond mass and grip hard.

“She definitely wants to come.” He sounds self-assured and cool, but his own body is having a fit of spasms as he tries to maintain his stable tempo. He’s failing on every level. His hip movements have become unpredictable, indicating his pending orgasm and his fast loss of control. “Fuck!”

And that word seals the deal. He’s way past the point of return, so I seize my opportunity, pulling harder on his hair and reaching up to sink my teeth into his sweat-glistened shoulder in an attempt to suppress my scream of release and encourage his. It works, as I knew it would.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He’s working harder and faster into me, burying his face into my hair. “Now, Ava!”

I’m done for. I unclamp my teeth from his flesh and join him in his frantic oblivion of raw, carnal pleasure, throwing my arms around his neck and rolling my hips up to meet the last thorough thrash of his body into mine.

He collapses onto me carefully, but grinds slowly as he nibbles on my neck through his labored breathing. “Please quit,” he begs. “Then we really can stay like this forever.”

I can’t find my vocal cords, except to mumble some objection, which I do with an increase of pressure of my arms around his neck.

“Was that a yes?” He licks up the salty skin of my cheek and across my lips. “Say yes.”

“No.”

“Stubborn woman.” He pecks my lips and rolls onto his back, ensuring he remains snugly inside me and I’m comfortable on his lap. “We need to renew our vows.”

I frown and take a few moments to gather enough air in my lungs to form a sentence. “We’ve not even been married a month.”

My hips are seized and I tense, but then I watch as his eyes drift onto my stomach and his warning look transforms into a smile as he shifts his threatening hands to my small-ish bump and starts caressing it. “Yes, only a month and you’ve already forgotten a significant part of your promise.”