This Man (This Man 1)

He pushes his lips harder against mine, but I don’t accept his kiss. I keep telling myself that this is bad, so bloody wrong. I’m going to hurt even more if I accept this, I know I will. I half-heartedly try to free myself, but he growls low in his throat, his hands tightening on mine. I’m not going anywhere. My desperate attempts t

o halt this are being seriously hindered by his sheer determination to break me down.

His tongue skims my bottom lip as I continue to deny him access, shuddering in an attempt to fight off the reactions he’s drawing from me. I know if he gains entry, it will be game over, so I stubbornly keep my lips locked shut while mentally pleading for him to give up.

When he releases one of my hands, I instantly grab his bicep to push him away, but it’s no good. He’s a powerhouse of a man and a determined one at that. He’s not affected in the slightest by my meager attempts to free myself.

He grabs my hip tightly and I jerk under him, but I’m pressed back into the worktop. I’m completely trapped, but I still defiantly reject his kiss, keeping my lips shut tight. I turn my head away when he eases up a bit.

‘Stubborn woman. ’ he mutters, pressing his lips against my neck, licking and nibbling his way down to the hollow, circling long, wet strokes before working his way up to my ear and biting at my lobe.

I squeeze my eyes shut, pleading with my self-control to resist his irresistible touch. My fingernails are digging into his tense upper arm and my lips are locked shut for fear of letting out a cry of pleasure. His hand leaves my hip and moves slowly across my stomach, skimming the waistband of my shorts.

‘Please. Please, stop. ’ I cry.

‘You stop, Ava. Just stop. ’ Slipping his index finger under the material, he traces left to right, in slow, soft, measured strokes while continuing the invasion of his lips on my ear and neck. I could cry with frustration.

The warm friction buckles my knees, sending violent quivers over my entire body. I hear him laugh lightly, deep at the back of his throat, sending vibrations down my spine and a slow steady beat to my core. I clamp my thighs together, moving my hand from his arm to his chest and pushing in total vain. I don’t even know why I’m bothering now. I’m a heartbeat away from surrendering to him. He’s persistently pursuing me in lust, and I’ve fallen hard for him – really hard. My head feels like it could explode, and I’m not sure if it’ll be in pleasure or confusion. I’m so bloody confused.

When his lips reach mine again, I still resist, trying my hardest to block it all out. My poor brain is being thrown a million different commands – fight him; resist him; accept him; kiss him; knee him in the bollocks.

And then his hand is delving into my knickers, his fingers separating me, causing electricity to spark violently through me. He brushes over my clitoris, so very gently. I jerk, my mouth opens and I let out a cry of pleasure. He takes full advantage of my lapse in willpower, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, exploring and lapping every corner, his thumb slowly circling my burning core. I kiss him back.

‘Let my hand go. ’ I pant, flexing the muscles in my arm.

He must know that he’s got me because my hand is released on a moan and he’s griping the nape of my neck immediately. I throw my arms around his neck to pull him closer to me – just like that.

His hips thrust against his hand, increasing the pressure of his assault on my core and his fingers enter me. My muscles grip him hard. I moan.

He pulls away from me, gasping and heaving, looking at me through his hooded, glazed eyes. ‘I thought so. ’ he says, his husky tone pushing my building orgasm higher.

He crashes his lips back on mine, and I accept it - all of it. Once again, I’m a slave to this beautiful, neurotic man. My willpower has diminished and my weaknesses have been weakened.

I run my hands across his suited back, my fingers delving into his dirty blonde hair as he continues his excruciatingly slow, controlled drives with his fingers. I could cry with pleasure and frustration, but how can I resist this? I’ll never escape him.

Now that I’ve stopped fighting him, his tongue is working my mouth at a calmer, steadier rate. The hotness of our combined mouths feels natural and absolute. My thighs tighten with the building climax threatening to attack me from every direction, and my grip of his hair increases. He gets the message, hardening his kiss, the strokes of his fingers and thumb becoming firmer as I’m bulldozed by pleasure and rocketed skyward. My mind goes blank, except for the bliss of release riding through me. I bite his lip. He groans. Holy fucking shit!

Author: Jodi Ellen Malpas

His strokes ease up, and I release his lip from my clenched teeth. I think I can taste blood, but my eyes won’t open to confirm it. It would serve him right.

‘Remember yet?’ he whispers softly against my lips. I sigh, pulling my heavy eyes open to meet his green gaze. I don’t answer him; he knows the answer to that question. But as always, I never forgot. He doesn’t demand an answer. He just leans down, dropping a gentle kiss on my mouth, my tongue sweeping across his bottom lip, licking away the small drop of blood that I’ve drawn.

‘I’ve made you bleed. ’

‘Savage. ’ he breathes, pulling his fingers slowly out of me and sliding them into my mouth. He watches me closely as I run my tongue over them, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He’s got want he wants again – me, surrendering to him.

I’m lifted onto the worktop. ‘Why do you keep running away from me?’ His eyes search mine as he rests his hands on either side of my thighs, bending his body, leaning in.

I drop my head. I can’t look at him. What can I tell him? That I’ve fallen in love with him? Perhaps I should – he might freak out and leave me alone. I shrug instead.

He places his index finger under my chin and tips my head back up so I’m forced to confront his achingly handsome face.

He raises his eyebrows at me expectantly. ‘Talk to me, baby. ’

‘I don’t know. ’

He rolls his eyes and slaps my hand away from the piece of hair I’m coiling around my finger. ‘You’re a shit liar, Ava. ’