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“Tussauds?”
“Yeah, it’s our thing.” She sounds almost embarrassed, studying her chicken as she cuts through it.
“It’s nice to have a thing.” If Jake were still alive, what would be ourthing? I smile on the inside. Superbikes. That would be our thing. We didn’t have a chance to have our thing. I swallow, flexing my aching hand. “You’ve eaten already?” I ask, and Ava stalls from shoveling another forkful in. “Are you eating for two?” I’m testing the waters on that front again, looking up at her. Her eyes bulge. She’sdefinitelynever considered motherhood.
“No,” she says, before chewing and swallowing. “Stop worrying.”
Worrying? Of all the things I have to be worried about,thatisn’t one of them. Nowhere close. Could she be? Because I sure as shit have never known her to tuck away food so ravenously, like she’s not eaten for days. Her period came last week.Notpregnant.
So, again, am I broken? I ponder that while I hum and moan my way through the rest of my dinner, just so she knows how much I’m enjoying it. Enjoyingthis. Her here, me here, no one else here. How many pills did she miss? Perhaps none, because new packs kept appearing, so she obviously had reserves. Anyone would think she’s passionate aboutnothaving kids. Again, I wouldn’t know, since we haven’t had that conversation. My eyes naturally drop to her stomach, my teeth going to town on my lip as I set my knife and fork down, watching her as she starts to clean up, fascinated by how at home she is. I feel content. Until I catch signs of her back getting straighter by the second as if she’s building herself up to something. The questions are gaining momentum again in her mind. I slide off my stool and walk quietly across the kitchen where she’s wiping down the worktop, and she turns around, inhaling, ready to fire her questions—
And bounces off my chest. “Oh!”
“Lose the sweatshirt.”
She peeks up at me, and I ensure she sees nothing but sheer grit. I’ve indulged her. Let her feed me. It’s been nice, enjoyable, but nothing takes me to the clouds like being physically close to her, and I absolutely cannot take any more interrogations today.
Without question or hesitation, she pulls the sweater off, and I inhale subtly as I drink her in, radiating coolness but falling to pieces on the inside. “You’re impossibly beautiful,” I whisper over the lump of appreciation in my throat. “And all mine.” I drop to my knees, taking her lacy knickers and dragging them down as I go, tapping a foot in turn for her to lift. I can smell her arousal. Smell her need.
Smell her love.
I look up at her. “I think I’ll let you come first. Then I’m going to rip you clean in half.”
She gulps as I stroke up the backs of her legs, her chest pulsing. My mouth is watering, the sustenance I truly need to survive within licking distance. My fingertips kneed the backs of her thighs, my tongue darting out, licking my lips, before I pull her forward and dive into her welcoming pussy, kissing her there deeply and ravenously.
“Oh shit.” She sinks her hands into my hair, pushing me farther into her, encouraging me, every bit of her trembling against my lips and tongue.
“Mouth,” I warn, giving her no respite, sucking her hard in between firm rolls of my tongue. I introduce a finger, just one finger, inserting it slowly, feeling every inch of her hot walls draw it deeper, hearing her whimper. “Tell me when, Ava.” Another finger. I suck air through my teeth, feeling her throbbing against my tongue.
“That’s it.” Her hips push forward, applying pressure, and she comes against me on a mumble of a few inaudible words, shaking like a leaf, heaving violently. I smile against her flesh, holding her snug to my mouth, slowing my swirling motions and slipping my fingers free, her muscles defiantly resisting.
“You’re too good,” she pants, and I peek up, gently thrusting, easing her down.
I free her from the pleasure of my mouth and slowly rise, nibbling my way over her chest as I pass. “I know. Aren’t you lucky?” I lift her to my front. “Are you ready to be fucked good and proper, baby?”
Her smile. God, her smile. “Knock yourself out.”
I intend to knock both of us out. But not in here. I’ve had her in the kitchen, more than once. But the gym? This is going to be fun. I kiss her hard and walk us out, moaning my approval at her keen tongue whipping through my mouth greedily. Lowering her to her feet, I encourage her backward until we’re by my rowing machine. I let my lips leave hers and kiss my way to her ear. “Fancy a workout?”
“What did you have in mind?” she asks, shuddering as I lick the shell of her ear. I separate us and step back, removing my shorts and freeing my aching dick. I give her a moment to take me in, encouraged by the unadulterated need radiating back at me. She eventually makes it to my eyes, and I indicate behind her with a little flick of my head.
She turns, looks across my gym equipment, and I wait for the penny to drop. But when she faces me again, I can see she’s clueless.Come on, Ava.I raise my brows, and her expression is riddled with a fleeting frown and unsure amusement, before realization descends. “Oh.” She exhales, immediately squirming, as I move in and claim her, leading her to the rowing machine. Rowing has never been my thing. I have a feeling that’s going to change.
I lower to the seat and smile when her eyes root to my imposing erection standing to attention. I pull her forward and get her into position, standing over me, my hand lifting to her breast and massaging gently.
She goes lax, her head dropping, her chest pumping.
“Ava,” I breathe, tingling everywhere in anticipation. “You fucking kill me.” She finds it in herself to look at me, and it’s a look I’ll never tire of. Surrender. “I love you.” I take her hips gently, smiling to myself when she twitches. “I love how you flinch when I touch you here.” I love how she flinches when I touch heranywhere. “I love how wet you are for me here.” Completely saturated, begging. I slip a finger inside of her and my groan blends with her moan as I push high, the soft, spongy walls of her vagina welcoming me again. “I love how you taste.” I lick her essence away and swallow it down, before encouraging her onto my lap, my cock slipping into her so fucking easily. Like she’s used to me. Like her body accepts me willingly. Like it’s all it knows. She whimpers, breathing into my face. “I love how it feels to be inside you.” Nothing will ever beat it. “Wrap your legs around me,” I order, shaking with the effort not to grind into her as she follows my instruction, circling me with her long, slender legs. “I. Love. You.” I push my feet into the floor, gliding us up the runner to the end, anticipation for the buffer that’ll stop us having me biting my lip. And then it happens, and I am far from prepared for it. I suck back air and close my eyes, gathering myself before I come. Jesus. My cheeks puff out, every muscle I have firming up to find some control, my cock spasming. I open my eyes. She’s watching me. Watching me struggle. Watching me prepare for movement. And then she kisses me, and it both settles and stimulates me.
“I love you,” she mumbles around my mouth, and despite her kiss being earth moving, I have to pull away, just to look into her eyes and see that love. And so she can see the appreciation in mine.
“I can’t tell you how happy that makes me,” I whisper, getting us moving up the runner. “Do you need me?”
We hit the top and exhale our pleasure in unison. “I need you.” Her voice shakes.
“That makes me happy too. Again?”
“Please.”
