This Man Confessed (This Man 3)

His face is unreadable, but those greens are telling a whole other story. They are seeping into the deepest part of me. They are spilling with awe and devotion. ‘All the way?’ he asks, so quietly I almost don’t hear him above the light rush of waves.

I nod and tip my hips, quietly impatient. My alluring ploy works. He inhales a shaky breath and quickly lifts me when another wave creeps up on us. I cry out at the coldness again, but his sudden full penetration is more of the cause. He’s holding me against him as the water recedes, my cheek pressed to his throat, and then I’m on my way back down to the sand. My hands find their place on his shoulders and his forearms find their place on either side of my head. And we just look at each other. This in itself is beyond pleasurable. He’s completely filling me, and I can feel him pulsating. I’m even contracting around him, but neither one of us has any urgent need to hurry this along. It’s chilly, we’re both wet, but we’re perfectly happy. Nothing around us exists, just how we like it.

‘Do you want me to move?’ he drops his mouth to mine. ‘Tell me what you want, baby.’

‘Just you. However you come.’

‘I come with uncontrollable love for you. Is that good enough?’

It’s more than good enough. I kiss him instead of answering him, but he pulls away, his heavy, hooded eyes looking for a verbal reply. ‘It’s good enough.’ I accept on a quiet sigh, feeling like I’ve probably just sanctioned his challenging ways. But it is good enough.

‘I’m glad.’ He rocks his hips upwards, drawing a quiet intake of breath from me and strained neck muscles from him. ‘You feel so f**king good. I don’t know how I ever survived without this. I existed, Ava. I didn’t live.’ He pulls gradually out and pushes lazily back into me, pressing his lips to mine to capture my small cry of pleasure, mixed with more coldness as another wave surprises me. ‘Now I live. And it’s only for you.’

‘I understand.’ I say around his mouth, because I know that’s his next question. ‘I understand all of that.’

‘Good. I need you to,’ Out and in again, and there’s a sigh and tensing from both of us. ‘I love our normal.’

I smile, and squirm beneath him on another meticulous plunge. Our normal. I love our normal, too. Our normal is Jesse loving me so violently, it drives him crazy. It’s me returning that love. And it’s me accepting him in all of his challenging ways. I’m so over it.

I’m not even feeling the coolness of the sea lapping around me now. Desire is coursing through my veins, heating my skin, and I’m grabbing on to every drive with every muscle I possess. I equal his passion with my own, kissing him and feeling him, yanking at his hair and moaning. He’s swaying those hips back and forth so precisely, so evenly, that each thrust is hitching me steadily closer to climax. The softness of his tongue exploring every part of my mouth and the hard velvet of his c**k sliding in and out of me is utter ecstasy, as always.

I let my displeasure be known when he breaks our mouth contact, but he ignores me, pulling back to study me while he maintains his pace. ‘I need to see you,’ he breathes. ‘I need to see those eyes smoulder when you come for me.’

‘Jesse,’ I’m panting. He won’t have to wait very long at all. The switch is flicking, courtesy of my Lord and his expert way with me. Knowing I’ll get chastised if I close my eyes, I work hard to resist the temptation of throwing my head back and clenching them shut. It’s hard when he’s doing this to me.

He lifts his upper body and braces himself on his fists. ‘She’s close.’ he observes quietly. ‘Control it, Ava. Don’t make me stop.’ He increases his pace, never allowing his eyes to leave mine.

‘Please, don’t stop.’ My hands find their way to his arse and grab on hard, pushing him into me.

‘You know what to do, then.’ He circles firm and deep, almost purposely making this more difficult for me. I bite back a cry, mustering up all of my strength to delay the inevitable until he’s ready. This calls for deep, controlled breaths, so I swallow hard and begin a sequence of breath regulating exercises. He knows that I’m struggling. He knows because there is a faint shimmer of a knowing smile looking down at me, and he’s firming up his strokes. His biceps are bulging, too, indicating a shifting of his fists in the sand where he’s trying to gain more leverage to torment me with his punishing love making. And God does he succeed. Every single time it just gets better and better.

I’m lying under him, soaking up his attentiveness, biting harshly on my lip, and I’m sizzling, bubbling, dying to let go. Through my wild sensuality, I’m searching for any sign that he may be close himself, and I begin to despair when I find nothing, but then his greens disappear behind his eyelids, only very briefly, and his hips jerk. He’s struggling. Fearful that he might slow to gather himself, I quickly wrap my legs around his waist and use every leg muscle I own to push him into me. It’s his downfall. He hisses, bucks again, and I shout my appreciation, moving my hands to his forearms and gripping hard.

‘You little… FUCK!’ His head flies back and his smooth pace rapidly advances into firmer strokes. I take the opportunity of his gaze away from mine to squeeze my eyes shut. I hold my breath, too. ‘Eyes!’ My darkness was brief. My lids are open again, and they are looking at a damp, hard face of frustration. Frustration that he can’t control it. ‘Fucking hell, lady.’ he pants. ‘You want to come?’