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 f**king shit!
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.’
‘I know.’ I huff. I’ve got to sort that bad habit out quickly.
‘Tell me, now.’ he demands softly.
I sigh. ‘You’re distracting me. I don’t want to get hurt.’ There, I’m not lying. That’s true. I just left out the minor, major detail of my feelings for him.
I look at him as he chews his bottom lip, the cogs of his mind going into overdrive. He doesn’t know what to say to that. I’m so glad I didn’t hit him with the love bomb.
‘I see.’ he says flatly. Is that it? I see? ‘I’m a distraction?’ he asks.
‘Yes.’ I scowl. The worst kind!
He pouts. ‘I like distracting you.’
‘I like you distracting me too.’ I mumble sulkily. I notice he ignores the hurt comment, homing straight in on the distraction tactics.
‘What am I distracting you from?’
‘Being sensible,’ I reply quietly. The intoxicating affect he has on my body is setting deeper into my mindset. He said he would make me need him, and he’s keeping true to his word.
He smiles, completely satisfied, his eyes dark and promising again. ‘I’m going to distract you some more now. We need to make friends.’ His low voice is sparking off my desire for him all over again as he grabs me under my bum and slides me off of the worktop to straddle his waist.