Page 64 of This Woman


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She’s still, peaceful. I’m peaceful with her.

Bliss.

But then I feel her shift, and my arms lock down of their own volition. “Don’t even think about it, lady,” I mumble. I’m not moving, not for a long while, and neither is she.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

“Tough,” I grunt, probably unreasonably. But this is so nice. “Hold on to it. I’m comfy.”

“I can’t,” she says, somewhere between laughter and exasperation, trying to pry my arms from around her.

I shrug her hands away with ease. I’ll always win. She needs to get used to that. Especially when she is the prize. “I’m not letting go of you.”Not ever.

Sensibly, she relents, and I smile on the inside, placing a kiss on her cheek before relaxing back again, my eyes closing. I could stay here all day. This is unbelievably amazing, just... being, but I feel her body solidify. She’s going to try and escape me again? When will this woman learn? I move fast, spinning her onto her back, kneeing her thighs apart, and nailing her wrists to the bed.

Job.

Done.

Well, almost.

I push my groin into her, feeling the corners of my lips twitching. She’s breathless. Staring up at me in wonder. One touch and she’s mine. I mentally file that knowledge away and get down to the business of maintaining our bliss, as well as keeping Ava in her blindsided frame of mind. I’m lacking many things as a man—we won’t go into details—but one thing I have on my side is my talent in bed, and I will wield that power to my advantage when I need to, no apologies. Like now when she needs to pee. She’ll soon forget that.

I pout, dipping and circling the tip of my nose with hers. “Sleep well?”

“Very.” She rolls her hips, and I pull back, my eyebrows hitting my hairline when she thrusts up. I try to contain my smug smile. Try. And fail. She wants me. She wants me so fucking bad.

“Me too.” I glide my mouth across hers leisurely and softly, working her up, making her body beg for more. I’m lazy as I kiss her. Gentle, slow, and infuriatingly unrushed. But I don’t need to rush. I have to keep reminding myself. She’s seen the light.

And with that thought, I release her wrists and work my touch down her torso, feeling her writhe, buck, squirm. My tongue rolls languidly through her mouth, corner to corner, her moans constant, her palms on my arse trying to instigate my movements. She gets her way. I lift, letting my dick fall into place. “I completely lose myself in you, lady,” I whisper, surrendering her lips so I can watch her as I dive slowly and deeply into her. The vision. The pleasure on her strained face. The whimpers of indulgence. Her hands leave my arse and land on my back, her eyes closing.Oh, no, no, no.

I hold back from setting the pace, the willpower draining my lungs of air, every muscle locking down. Not until she’s looking at me. I’m not moving until she looks at me.

“Look at me, Ava,” I grate, my teeth about ready to pop from my harsh bite.

Thank God, she listens, giving me her eyes, and I gaze into them, feeling nothing but wonder.Real. This is all real.

She wants me to move, her hips flexing in invitation, and I sigh and talk my muscles into loosening, retreating from the heat of her pussy and driving forward slowly. The friction is a blissful torture.

“I love sleepy sex with you,” I whisper, hoarsely.

She answers by thrusting upward, and I gulp, fighting to regain control when my dick jerks its delight.

“Is that good, Ava?” I keep our eyes locked, and she has no problem maintaining this level of intimacy.

“Yes.”

“Faster?” I ask.

“No, just like this, please, just stay like this.”

Good answer, and highly satisfying, because she’s consumed by this moment too. Now,thisis making love. And that is exactly what I’m doing. Literally. Creating love. Fuck me, what I felt last night wasn’t a whimsical throw-away thought. As I feared, it was a very real, very serious thought. I always believed it would be impossible to love again. Now I feel it’s impossiblenotto love this woman. Cupid has rammed his fucking arrow through my heart, the sadistic bastard, and reminded me that I do, in fact, have one.

I feel frustration grip me, and I try in vain to shake it away. Ava’s legs come up and circle me, her touch feeling like it’s getting lighter.

Love.

Should I cut my losses now? Minimize damage control? Because how the fuck could this woman love me back?

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