‘What about you? Are you just mine?’ I ask, shifting my hips up to capture the delightful penetration.
‘Just yours, Ava. Tell me you love me.’
‘What?’ I cry, when he hits me with a hard drive.
‘You heard me.’ he says softly. ‘Don’t make me f**k it out of you, baby.’
I’m stunned. I’m melting beneath him, crippled by pleasure and now he’s demanding I tell him that I love him? I do, but should I confess under duress? It’s completely as I expected, though. He’s been trying to make me the opposite of everything he knows, keeping me covered, preventing me from drinking, insisting on me wearing delicate lace instead of harsh leather. But what about the sex?
‘Ava, answer me.’ He pushes high and grinds firmly, a sweat breaking out across his brow. ‘Don’t hold out on me.’
His words hit me like a lightning bolt. Hold out? He’s tried to f**k a love confession out of me before – in the en-suite last Saturday when he rammed into me repeatedly, demanding I say it. I thought he was looking for reassurance that I wasn’t leaving. I was wrong. How did he know?
There’s another perfect grind and my internal muscles start to spasm, tremors inching their way into the epicentre of my nerve endings. My legs stiffen. ‘How did you know?’ I cry, throwing my head back in despair, both mentally and physically.
‘Damn it, Ava, look at me.’ He hits me with a full, hard strike, and I drag my eyes open on an angry yell. ‘I love you.’ he shouts, reinforcing his words with yet another slow withdraw and hard fast attack of his hips.
‘I love you too!’ I scream the words that are literally punched out of me.
He stops his movements completely, our breaths rushed and frantic as he holds my hands in place and looks down at me. ‘I love you so f**king much. I didn’t think it was possible.’ His words penetrate me deeply, the intensity of our joining having my heart kicking into a higher gear as he looks down at me, tears pricking the backs of his eyes. He smiles faintly and slowly withdraws himself. ‘Now, we make love.’ he says quietly, rocking gently back into me and capturing my lips in a slow, sensual kiss, full of meaning. He releases his hold of me and my hands fly to his back, slipping across his damp skin.
His tactic has changed completely. Slowly and leisurely, he drives in and out of me, pushing me up towards complete rapture as I clasp at his damp back, holding as tight as I can. Sex with Jesse has always been beyond compare, but this moment holds a significant power that I never thought possible. He loves me.
I struggle to keep my emotions in check when he pulls back and holds his face to mine, nose to nose, eyes full of sentiment. I’m coming apart. The consistency of his controlled, deep thrusts has me shuddering and tensing around him as my core convulses and grips his shaft on each and every plunge. The sheen of sweat across his brow and his frown line deep with concentration tells me he’s tipping the edge too. Tilting my hips up on a thrust, I moan as he fills me to my absolute limit, the feel of his rhythmic, meticulous tempo having me wanting to squeeze my eyes shut, but I can’t drag them away from his.
‘Together.’ he says, his hot breath spreading across my face.
‘Yes,’ I gasp, feeling him expand and throb in preparation for his release.
‘Christ, Ava.’ A rush of air escapes his lips and his body goes rigid, but he doesn’t remove his eyes from mine. My back arches on reflex when the spiraling rush of pleasure reaches its climax and sends me tumbling into a hurricane of uncontrollable feelings. I cry out in complete despairing pleasure, my body trembling in his hold. I close my eyes to blink back the tears that have developed as my orgasm begins to recede slowly and lazily with his continued even strokes.
‘Eyes,’ he commands softy, and I obey, opening my eyes again.
He moans deeply and I tighten all of my muscles at my core to grip him and extract his release from him. How is he keeping his head up and his eyes open? I can see the battle he’s having with his instincts to hammer into me and throw his head back, but he’s keeping a rein on his control. And then, you can almost hear the snap of his release as his cheeks puff out and he pushes himself into me, long and hard, holding himself there, my muscles obliging his throbbing erection and continuing with their slow, easy constrictions as he pours into me.
‘I love you.’ I say quietly as he looks down at me, his chest heaving. There. I’ve put it out there. My cards are well and truly on the table, and he didn’t technically f**k that one out of me.
He rests his lips on mine. ‘I know you do, baby.’
‘How did you know?’ I ask. I know I’ve never told him. I’ve screamed it in my head a thousand times, but I have never actually voiced it.
‘You told me when you were drunk,’ He smiles, ‘After I showed you how to dance.’
I do a quick run through of the night when I got ridiculously drunk and relented to his persistent pursuing again. I remember admitting it to myself, but I certainly don’t remember blurting it out to him. Mind you, I don’t remember much after Jesse escorted me from the bar. I was in a state. That’s his fault too.
‘I don’t remember.’ I admit. I feel bloody stupid.
‘I know you don’t,’ He grinds his hips.
I sigh.
‘It was so f**king frustrating.’
It all comes flooding back. He really was trying to f**k a love confession out of me. He watches me as I figure it out, and his mouth forms an O on a small smile.
‘You knew all along.’ I say quietly.