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Beneath This Man (This Man 2)

Page 115

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‘I love you.’

‘Move the cabinet, please.’

‘We need to make friends.’ His face is deadpan, while my eyes have just widened.

‘No!’ I shout, disgusted by his intention to win me over with a quick f**k.

He takes a step forward, and I take one back. ‘I’ll trample, Ava.’ he warns calmly. I take another step back, watching as he regards me carefully. ‘Are you going to deny me?’ He arches a cautionary eyebrow, and I carry on stepping back until my backside is pushed up against the drinks cabinet and my hands are braced on the edge. If he gets his hands on me, I’m completely done for, and I want to stay mad. I need to stay mad. He’s going to try and blind me with his touch again.

He reaches me and places his hands over mine. My face is level with his neck and jaw. I try to block off my sense of smell, but fail miserably. I know I won’t be allowed to leave his office until he’s happy that we’re friends.

‘Tomorrow, I’m going back to Kate’s.’ I say bravely. I need time to try and sort my unreasonable jealous frame of mind out. It would seem that Jesse Ward has brought out some rather nasty qualities in me too.

‘You know that’s never going to happen, Ava. But just you saying it makes me really f**king mad.’

‘I am.’ I retort. I’m being stupidly daring, but I need him to know how much this is bothering me.

He bends so he’s at my eyelevel. ‘Crazy mad, Ava.’ he warns softly. ‘Look at me.’ he breathes in my face.

I whimper slightly. ‘No.’ It’ll be game over and one tally on Jesse’s scoreboard if I do.

‘I said, look at me.’

I shake my head faintly and he heaves a sigh.

‘Three.’ he starts clearly.

My eyes instinctively fly up to his, but not because he’s started the countdown and I don’t want him to reach zero. It’s because I’m shocked. I’ve unwittingly complied with his command, and I’m now staring into dark green pools of lust.

‘Kiss me.’ he demands.

I purse my lips and shake my head, attempting to pull my arms free.

‘Three.’ he begins again and I freeze, my mouth dropping open in shock. He brushes his lips gently over mine. ‘Two.’

This isn’t fair. He could kiss me, but I know he won’t. He wants me to submit and I’m desperately trying to resist, even though my treacherous body is screaming for him.

‘One.’ His lips meet mine again.

I snap my head away and wriggle under his hold, desperately fighting him off. ‘No, you’re not distracting me, Jesse.’

He shouts a frustrated yell and releases his grip, my hands flying up to his chest to push him away. We battle, my flailing hands beating him away from me as he tries to grab at my wrists.

‘Ava!’ he yells, securing me and spinning me around. I don’t know why I’m doing this. I could never win, even though he is obviously handling me with care. ‘Fucking stop it, you crazy woman!’

I ignore him, rage and adrenalin spiking my stamina to continue fighting him off.

‘For f**k sake!’ he shouts, taking me down to the floor and securing me under his body. ‘Pack it in!’

I heave under him, every muscle aching, my hammering heart jumping from my chest. I open my eyes, finding a perplexed look on his face. He doesn’t know what to do with me. I’m losing complete control.

We stare at each other, both of us panting from the exertion of our physical battle. And then we both move forward fast, our mouths crashing together, our tongues dueling urgently.

It’s a tally for Jesse. He moans, releasing his grip of my wrists and fisting my hair in his hands as he tackles my mouth with as much force as I’m taking his. This is a possessive kiss. I’m reinforcing my claim to him, trying to make him see how strongly I feel about him, how the thought of other women and Jesse can make me just as crazy mad as him. His hand finds my breast and grabs me hard through the material of my dress, kneading and squeezing as he groans.

My tongue aches, my lips are becoming sore, but neither one of us is letting up. We’re both trying to make a point here. My hands move from his biceps to his head, and I yank his hair before applying pressure, pushing him into me. I’m fizzing all over, burning up completely as I writher on the floor beneath him, making a damn successful point of ownership. And then he rolls us over and my lips leave his, drifting down his suit covered torso until I reach the zipper of his trousers. I yank it down and make quick work of releasing him, his c**k slipping free, my hand wrapping around his shaft without delay.

In a complete frenzied mess, my mouth coats him and I take him all of the way, no soft caressing, no light licks or teasing strokes. I attack him, frantic and desperate.

‘Fuck!’ he barks, as I feel him hit the back of my throat. ‘Fuck, f**k, f**k!’

I don’t gag, or heave. I thrust him into my mouth repeatedly, tirelessly, squeezing his base and reaching between his thighs to grasp his heavy sacks. Hard.

‘JESUS!’ His hips fly up. ‘Ava!’ His hands find my head and yanks at my hair. I don’t know if he’s begging me or scolding me.

I concentrate on reinforcing my desperation for him, working him fast and harshly, his flesh feeling silky on the insides of my mouth, the friction from the speed of my strokes heating us both.

‘Keep me in your mouth, Ava.’ he orders, his hips meeting my every advance. My cheeks are aching, but I power on.

And then I recognise the sign of him expanding in my mouth, his breathing becoming disjointed and his fists tightening in my hair. I moan around him, increasing my iron grip on his balls and moving my other hand under his shirt. I grab his nipple, squeezing hard.



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