Feeling him move inside me, feeling him tremble with the intensity of our joined bodies moving together, has my emotions tackling me from every angle. He gasps, tilting his head to claim my lips. It’s a kiss of significance. I melt into it. This is not helping me with my attempts to rein in my emotions. He moans into my mouth as I hold onto his face, soaking up the passion radiating from every pore of his body. He pounds on, hard and fast.
As our mutual hunger assails us and I reach the point of no return, I lock my thighs around his narrow hips, every muscle in my body bracing for the snap and release that’s on the horizon. He shudders, mumbling incoherent words against my lips.
Oh, f**king hell!
He throws his head back. ‘Jesus f**king Christ!’
‘Jesse, please!’ I cry. This is bordering on unbearable. I don’t know what to do with myself. It’s too much. He brings his eyes back down to mine. They’re dark and hooded. I’m slightly concerned.
What? Oh God, he’s going to rip me in half.
‘Answer the question.’ he demands.
‘Yes!’ I scream. Can this get any harder?
He growls deep in his throat, increasing his thrusts to an even more determined, purposeful pace – a pace that I would never have thought possible. I tighten my thighs to the point of pain, but that just increases the friction and, subsequently, my pleasure.
‘Jesse!’ I’m thrown over the threshold, erupting around him on a scream.
The loud groan that bursts from his lips signals he’s with me as he holds himself deep inside me, his big body jerking against mine. He bellows my name, and I feel the warm sensation of his release within me. I drop my head to his shoulder, my heart beating a fast staccato in my chest.
Oh my God! I’m held in place with one arm, the forearm of his other resting against the wall, his face buried in my neck. He’s breathless, and my muscles are naturally bonding to his beating length as he rocks gently into me. The shower is pouring down on us, but I can still hear our ragged breaths over the pounding water.
‘Holy shit.’ he whispers through his suppressed breathing.
I sigh. Yes, holy shit, indeed. That was beyond intense. My mind is like jelly, and I know I won’t be able to stand if he tries to put me down.
As if reading my mind, he turns us so his back is against the tiles and slides down the wall, taking me with him so I’m straddling his lap on the shower floor. My face is planted on his chest, and I can still feel him pulsing inside me.
I’m totally wrecked. My hangover has been chased away, but it’s been replaced with complete exhaustion. He had better be set to stay here for a while because I’m going nowhere. I close my eyes as I lay peacefully, stuck to his sharp body.
‘Lady, you’re mine forever.’ he says softly as he strokes my wet back with both hands.
My eyes open and many thoughts invade my recuperating brain, but the loudest one is screaming…I want to be. I don’t say it, though. I’m mindful that we’re having amazing sex, and he wants to keep me for exactly that, which would be fine by me, if I wasn’t so sure that this eventually has to end. Sex on this scale is unfathomable to me. It couldn’t possibly last forever. It’ll wear out and that will be that. But now, after having my realisation, I’m petrified I’m going to be left restoring a broken heart. My damn willpower sucks, but I can’t resist him.
‘Are we friends?’ I ask, resting my lips on his chest and kissing my way around his nipple.
‘We’re friends, baby.’
I smile into his chest. ‘I’m glad.’
‘Me too.’ he says quietly. ‘So glad.’
‘Where have you been?’
‘It’s doesn’t matter, Ava.’
‘It matters to me.’ I argue quietly.
‘I’m back. That’s all that matters.’ He clinches my bum and pulls me closer to him. Yes, it is. But it doesn’t make me any less curious. And the fact that he won’t tell me is just fueling my curiosity. Where has he been?
‘Tell me.’ I push.
‘Ava, leave it.’ His voice is stern.
I sigh and peel myself from his chest, lifting my heavy eyes to his. ‘Fine. I need to wash my hair.’
He pushes my wet locks away from my face and drops a gentle kiss on my lips. ‘Are you hungry yet?’
I am actually. Hangover sex has built me up an incredible appetite. ‘Very.’ I climb off of him, reaching for the shampoo. ‘Is this it?’ I look at the shampoo, then to Jesse. ‘No conditioner?’
‘No, sorry.’ He pushes himself up from the shower floor, taking the bottle from my hand and squeezing some into my hair. ‘I want to do it.’
I relinquish hair washing duties, letting him laver up my hair, his big palms gently sweeping over my head. I’m going to have to wash it again when I get home. No conditioner spells trouble, but it smells of him, so I really don’t care. I close my eyes, let my head fall back and absorb the rhythmic movements of his hands.
All too soon, he’s positioning me under the shower to rinse away the suds. ‘What the f**k are they?’ he splutters.
‘What?’ I turn to find out what he’s talking about. I catch a glimpse of a shocked expression as he grabs me, turning me so my back is to him again.
I look over my shoulder, finding him gawking at my bum and the faded bruises from my little jaunt in the back of Margo. With the look of horror on his face, you would think I had a skin eating disease. I roll my eyes. ‘I fell over in the back of Margo.’