The throb at my core is bordering on painful, and I’m at serious risk of falling apart if he continues with that alone. I want to tell him to hurry up; I’m struggling to control myself here.
Reaching behind me, he unclasps my bra, pulling the straps down my arms and flinging it behind him. I lean back on my hands, exposing my breasts to him.
Looking into my eyes, he lifts his hand and places it, palm down, under my throat. ‘I can feel your heart hammering.’ he says quietly. ‘You’re so affected by me.’
I’m not going to challenge him on that statement. He’s right, and I’m not even bothering to try and fight it anymore.
He glides his palm down between my breasts until it rests on my stomach, as he looks at me – all smoldering and delicious.
‘You’re too fucking beautiful, lady’ he grinds firmly. ‘I think I’ll keep you.’
I arch my back, thrusting my chest forward, and he smiles before lowering his mouth and taking my nipple deep, sucking hard. When he brings his hand up to massage my other breast, I moan, letting my head fall back against the mirror. Oh, good God. The man is a genius. His arousal is as hard as lead, pressing between my thighs, causing me to roll my hips to ease the throb on a long, drawn out moan. I don’t know what to do with myself. I want to soak up the pleasure because it’s so good, but the need to have him is getting the better of me, the pressure in my groin near exploding point. As if reading my mind, he skates his hand up the inside of my thigh, finding the edge of my knickers. One finger breaches the barrier, lightly brushing the tip of my clit.
‘Shit!’ I cry, throwing myself up to grab his shoulders, digging my nails into his strained muscles.
‘Language, lady.’ he tusks, then slams his lips against mine, plunging two fingers into me.
My muscles grab onto him as he works them in and out. I might, literally, die of pleasure. I feel the fast buildup of an impending orgasm, and I know it’s going to blow me apart. Holding onto his shoulders for dear life, I moan into his mouth as he continues his assault on me.
Oh, here it is.
‘Come.’ he commands, applying more pressure to the top of my clit.
I fall apart in an explosion of stars, releasing his mouth and tossing my head back in a complete frenzy. I cry out. He grabs my head, yanking it forward to tackle my mouth, catching the tail end of my cries. I’m in pieces. I’m panting, shaking and boneless as I disintegrate all over him, completely inhibited and unashamed of what he does to me. I’m delirious with pleasure.
His kiss softens and his thrusts slow, easing me gradually down as he scatters tender kisses all over my damp, warm face. Too good, just too, too good.
I feel him brush a stray tendril of hair from my face and I open my eyes, meeting a sludgy green, satisfied stare. He plants a soft kiss on my lips. I sigh. I feel like a life’s time of pent up pressure has been extinguished, just like that. I’m relaxed and sated.
‘Better?’ he asks, sliding his fingers out of me.
‘Hmmm.’ I hum. I have no energy for speech.
His fingers drag across my bottom lip and he leans into me, watching me closely as he runs his tongue across my mouth, licking the remnants of my orgasm away. His eyes burn straight through me as we gaze at each other in silence. My hands, instinctively, reach up to cup his face, smoothing down his freshly shaven face. This man is beautiful, intense and passionate. And he could break my heart.
He smiles lightly, turning his face to kiss my palm before returning his eyes to mine. Oh Lord, I’m in trouble.
We’re both cruelly snatched from the intensity of the moment when the door handle of the bathroom is jiggled from the other side. I gasp and Jesse slaps his palm over my mouth, looking at me in amusement. He finds this funny?
‘I can’t hear anything.’ A strange voice comes through the door, followed by another rattle of the handle. My eyes bulge in horror.
He removes his hand, replacing it with his lips. ‘Shhhhhh.’ he mumbles against my mouth.
‘Oh God, I feel cheap.’ I whine, leaving his lips and dropping my head to his shoulder. How am I going to walk out of this place without burning bright red and looking as guilty as sin?
‘You’re not cheap. Talk crap like that, I’ll be forced to kick your delicious backside all over my bathroom.’
I snap my head up from his shoulder, looking at him in confusion. ‘Your bathroom?’
‘Yes, my bathroom,’ He smirks at me. ‘I wish they would stop strangers roaming around my home.’ he muses.
‘You live here?’ I’m puzzled. He can’t live here. No one lives here.
‘Well, I will do as of tomorrow. Tell me. Is all this Italian shit worth the outrageously expensive price tag they attached to this place?’ He looks at me expectantly.
Does he actually want me to answer that? ‘Italian shit?’ I splutter, completely insulted.
He laughs, and I think I might slap him. Italian shit? The man is an ignorant arse. Italian shit?
‘You shouldn’t have brought the place if you don’t like the shit that’s in it.’ I fire at him, completely outraged.
‘I can get rid of the shit.’ he quips.
My eyebrows shoot up in a, you-didn’t-just-say-that expression. I’ve spent months breaking my back sourcing all of this Italian shit and this unappreciative swine is just going to get rid? I’ve never been so insulted, or pissed off. I try to wriggle my hands from under his, but he tightens his grip. I shoot him a scowl.
He grins. ‘Unravel your knickers, lady. I wouldn’t get rid of anything in this apartment,’ He kisses me hard. ‘And you’re in this apartment.’ He’s taking my mouth again, possessively, greedily.
I won’t read into that statement too much. My libido has just jumped to attention and I’m happy to comply. I attack him with equal force, thrusting my tongue into his mouth, circling his with mine as he lifts his grip from my hands. They impulsively fly to those taut, rippling shoulders that I love so much.
Wrapping his arm around my middle, he releases my lips and lifts me up from the counter, leaving me hovering above the surface as his other hand finds my knickers and yanks them down my legs. He rests me back down, removing my shoes and letting them tumble to the tiled floor on a loud clatter. I join him in his stripping party, reaching up and pushing his shirt down his broad shoulders, revealing his bare chest in all of its glory. He’s cut to complete perfection. I want to lick every square inch of him.
As I trace my eyes down, I recoil slightly at a nasty scar that’s running across his stomach and rounding onto his left hip. I never noticed it before. The light at The Manor was dim, but that is one hefty scar. It’s slightly faded but bloody big. How did he get that? I elect to not enquire. It could be a sensitive issue, and I don’t want anything to upset this moment. I could just sit here and gawp at him forever, even with the scar that looks so sinister, he’s still beautiful.
I scrunch his shirt up between my hands and chuck it on top of my dress. He raises his eyebrows at me.
‘I’ll buy you a new one.’ I shrug.
He smirks and leans forward, bracing himself on the counter and capturing my lips – all brooding and careful. I reach for his trousers and begin unfastening his belt, whipping it out of his loop holes in one swift pull, instigating a snapping sound to erupt around us.
He pulls back on an arched brow. ‘Are you going to whip me?’
Huh? ‘No,’ I answer uncertainly. Does he like that sort of stuff? I throw his belt to join the pile on the floor and slide my hand between his tight narrow hips and the waistband of his trousers. I wrench him forward so we’re nose to nose. ‘Of course, if you want me to…’ Did I just say that?
‘I’ll bear that in mind.’ he says on a half-smile. Obviously, I did. What’s got into me?