Page 179 of This Woman


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I hum, licking her gently. “I can feel you throbbing against my tongue, baby.” I nibble and kiss my way from her inner thighs to her mouth and spread her release across her lips, gazing at her in amazement, my dick like steel. She must see it in my eyes. The adoration. The conflict. She curls herself around me on a long exhale and holds me close, accepting my heavy weight upon her.

“You make me so crazy mad, lady,” I whisper, flexing my hips and driving deep. I choke on the pleasure, my heart twisting, words falling from my mouth. “Please don’t do that again.” I lift her leg over my shoulder, wedging my fists into the mattress and raising my upper body, needing to see all of her.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, but I can tell she really doesn’t know what she’s apologizing for. And, really, neither do I. The dress? The drink? For not hearing me when I tell her I love her? Who the fuck knows?

“Ava, everything I do, I do to keep you safe and to keep my sanity.” The words are coming, instinct guiding me. “Please listen to me.” I withdraw and sink carefully into her, and we both lose our breath.

“I will.”

“I need you,” I whisper, my eyes refusing to leave hers, begging her to understand me, pleading for mercy on my tortured soul. My throat clogs with warranted fear, my vision clouding. “I really need you, baby.” My hips roll and thrust intermittently, keeping her on the edge.

She looks so confused by my words. “Why do you need me?”

“I just do.” I’m a coward, talking in riddles, expecting her to understand me. “Please, don’t ever leave me.”

“Tell me.”

“Just accept that I need you and kiss me.” I grind hard and roll deep as she stares at me, bewildered. Caught between taking the pleasure or pressing me. I will her to take the pleasure. To ignore my cryptic words because I don’t want this moment to end. Not ever. And yet I know I’m being unfair, asking her to agree to things without the full picture. “Ava, kiss me.”

Her hands find my face, her mouth finds my lips, and with that submission, I increase my pace, so badly needing the release of pressure. She’s already on the cusp of explosion again.

“Not yet, baby.” I have to be there with her, because there is no greater pleasure than coming with Ava, our climaxes combining and our sounds blending. “Together,” I command, and she nods, unable to speak, letting me control the pace and the rhythm. Fuck me, I can feel my dick expanding by the second, the friction growing, my blood burning. “Nearly there, baby.” This is going to knock me out.

“Jesse!”

“Hold on,” I whisper, sounding composed but feeling anything but. “Just hold on.” I slip free of her and plunge back inside, hissing, “Now, Ava.”

She stiffens under me, her kiss becoming firm, and my orgasm strikes hard, shredding me as she moans, accepting every drop of me, her mouth becoming lax, her kiss taking a different direction. Not firm but soft. Not frantic but calm.

And then I feel dampness meet my cheeks, making me withdraw abruptly. She’s crying. “What’s the matter?” I ask, slowing my drives.

“Nothing.” She shakes her head, and I look at her in question, one part of me willing her to share, another part uncertain whether I want her to. “What is this?” she asks.

“What’s what?”What am I, stupid?

“I mean me and you.”

Her need for reassurance endears me. “This is just you and me,” I say, when what I should actually do is seize this unexpected opportunity and spill. And yet, I don’t. “Are you okay?” I ask, kissing her in apology.

“Fine,” she snaps, and I recoil in surprise as she starts trying to squirm her way free from under me. Fine? She looks far from fine to me. I draw breath to push her, but clarity seems to hit me like a boulder to the face. She does. She really does love me.

“I need a wee,” she grumbles.

She seers my skin with pure fury in her eyes. She’s angry. Angry with herself because she’s having the same hard time trying to explain her feelings. So, like me, she does it in another way. She expresses them through our connection and chemistry. We do our talking in a different way, and while it’s amazing, it’s also leaving room for gray space. It’s time to fix that. But how? Beat it out of her? Or perhaps I can lead the way. Set the pace.

I pull my eyes from hers, slowly slipping free of her and letting her escape. She’s gone like a shot, hurrying to the bathroom, yanking off her bra as she goes. We’re both going crazy.

“Fuck,” I hiss, getting up and pacing to the bathroom with purpose. I bowl in without knocking, finding her in front of the vanity unit. She looks up at the mirror and her eyes fix to mine as I approach her carefully and meld my front to her back. I rest my chin on her shoulder, regarding her as she regards me.

“I thought we made friends,” I say quietly, breaking her in gently, bringing her around carefully rather than demanding a confession.

“We did.”

“Then why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking,” she protests, and I exhale my frustration, giving her a roll of my hips. If I have to, I’ll fuck it out of her. She’s always more agreeable when my dick is inside her.

“Ava,” I breathe tiredly, “you’re the most frustrating woman I’ve ever met.” And I must be the most perverse arsehole. I suck on her neck, and she stills. It’s time to talk and kicking things off with her confessing her love will pave the way. “Are you holding out on me for a reason, lady?”

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