“You ready?” he asks urgently, and I nod, because speech has completely evaded me.
He rips his hand from the apex of my thighs and knocks me away from his throbbing arousal, and in one measured movement, he moves his hands to my backside, lifts me and impales me onto his waiting length.
I yelp.
“Okay?” he pants. “Are you okay?”
“Two seconds. I need a few seconds.” I wrap my legs around him, crying out at the mixture of pleasure and pain. I know he’s not even all of the way in. Jesus, but the man is enormous.
I’m swung around and thrust up against the wall, the coldness of the tiles not bothering me in the slightest as I try to adjust myself to Jesse’s hugeness. He rests his forehead against mine, my hands slipping over his sweat-drenched back as he holds still for a few moments, giving me time to adapt to the intrusion.
Panting, he slowly withdraws from me, re-entering on a deliberate, steady thrust. This time he’s in further, and the fullness is making my head spin.
“Can you take more?” he asks urgently.
More? How much more is there? I can do this, I can do this. I repeat the mantra over and over as I adjust to his size, taking some calming breaths, and when I know I’ve got a handle on it, I kiss him slowly, arching my back and pushing my breasts into his chest.
“Ava, tell me you’re ready,” he breathes.
“I’m ready.” I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.
With my prompt, he extracts himself and drives back inside of me more forcefully. I sigh, tilting my hips forward in acceptance as he growls in appreciation and repeats his swift thrusts, again and again.
“You’re mine now, Ava,” he breathes on a deep, delicious plunge. My head drops forward to rest on his. “All mine.”
In one fast move, he pulls back and pounds home.
I scream.
I’m full to capacity and loving every wonderful bit of it. I grip his shoulders as he increases his thrusts, slamming into me, and hitting my womb every time. I cry in pleasure when he finds my lips, plunging his tongue into my mouth in a desperate claim as our damp, sweat-riddled bodies clash and slide together. I’m about to splinter into a million pieces. Holy shit! I’ve never come during penetrative sex!
“You’re going to come?” he gasps against my mouth.
“Yes!” I shout, sinking my teeth into his bottom lip. He moans. It’s animalistic, but I’m losing control here.
“Wait for me,” he demands, pounding harder.
I scream, desperately clenching my muscles around him to try and hold off, but it’s not working. How long will he be? I can’t hold on.
After three more hard strikes, he shouts, “Now, Ava!” and I burst at his command, throwing my head back and screaming his name as I feel hot liquid shoot into me.
He grips me hard, pulling me as close as he can get me, holding me there and burying his face in my exposed throat.
“Oh, fucccckkkkk!” he groans against my neck. The long, satisfied moan falling from my own lips is symbolic of how I feel right now.
He slows his thrusts to ease us both down from our incredible highs, and I hold him tight, my inner muscles contracting around him as he lazily circles his hips.
“Look at me,” he orders softly, and I pull my head down to look at him, sighing happily as he searches my eyes. He rolls his hips again and plants a kiss on the end of my nose. “Beautiful,” he says simply, cupping the back of my head and pushing me toward him so my cheek rests against his shoulder. I could stay like this for ever.
My back peels away from the cold wall behind me and I’m carried to the vanity unit with Jesse still buried deep inside me, pulsating and twitching. He slips out and settles me on the counter, clasping his palms on either side of my face and bending to kiss me, his lips lingering on mine in a total display of affection.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks, his frown line appearing on his forehead.
I dissolve on the spot. I want to smother him in my arms, so I do. I wrap my whole body around him, arms and legs, and cling on to him like my life depends on it. His face buries in my neck and he strokes my back. It’s the most calming sensation I’ve ever felt. I can’t even muster up the energy to feel guilty.
Sarah who?
We remain entwined, a bundle of arms and legs, breathing heavy and holding each other for an age. I want to stay exactly where I am. We could – it is his bathroom. I can’t believe he’s bought the penthouse.
After far too short a time, he leans back, running the back of his knuckles down the side of my face. “I didn’t use a condom,” he says with genuine regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I got so carried away. You’re on birth control, right?”
“Yes, but the pill doesn’t protect me from STDs.” I’m such a numb-nut. This man is a God with some serious moves. I dread to think of how many women he’s slept with.
He smiles at me. “Ava, I’ve always used a condom.” He leans forward, kissing my forehead. “Except with you.”
“Why?” I ask, a little puzzled.
He pulls away and has a little chew on his bottom lip. “I don’t think straight when I’m near you.” He puts his boxers and trousers on, then reaches over me to grab a washcloth from the shelf. I’m about to protest, but then I remember... it’s his. Everything in here is his, except for me. Well, not according to him, but that was just an impending orgasm talking. The throes of passion can make you say some funny things. He doesn’t think straight? That makes two of us.
He runs the tap, passing the cloth under it and returns to stand before me. I feel exposed sitting here completely naked. This isn’t equal ground, so I close my legs to conceal myself, suddenly uncomfortable with my state of undress. But he looks at me, a mystified look flitting across his handsome face as he pouts, reaches between my legs and spreads them gently.
“Better,” he mutters, lifting my arms from my lap and placing them on his shoulders. He rests the warm, damp cloth on the inside of my thigh and begins sweeping it up and down, cleaning the remnants of him away from me. It’s a tender act and extremely intimate. I watch his face in fascination, noticing the slight crease across his forehead as he concentrates with his procedure of cleaning me up.
He gazes up at me, his green eyes soft and twinkling. “I want to toss you in that shower and worship every inch of you, but this will have to do. For now, anyway.” He leans in and kisses me, lingering briefly. I don’t think I could ever tire of these simple, affectionate kisses. His lips are so soft, his scent divine. “Come on, lady. Let’s get you dressed.” He lifts me from the counter and helps me into my underwear and dress before zipping me up. My entire body convulses when he rests his lips on the nape of my neck, his warm, soft mouth having the hairs on my neck rising. I don’t think he’s out of my system – not at all. This is bad news.
I pick his pale blue shirt up from the floor and shake it out before handing it to him.
“There really wasn’t any need to screw it up, was there?” He flicks me a grin as he pulls it on, fastening the buttons and tucking it into his navy trousers.
“Your jacket will cov –” I abruptly remember tossing that on the floor in the bedroom. “Oh,” I whisper, all wide-eyed.
“Yes. Oh.” He arches a brow as he snaps his belt, making me flinch and him grin. “Okay, you ready to face the music, lady?” He holds his hand out to me, and I take it without a thought. The man is a magnet. “I’d say quite loud, wouldn’t you?”
I gape at him as he gives me a full-on dazzling smile. Then I shake my head, quickly glancing in the mirror. Oh, I’m flushed. My lips are swollen and pink, my hair is still up but with random strands curling down all over the place, and I’m creased. I need five minutes to sort myself out.
“You’re perfect,” he reassures me, as if sensing the panic rising in me.
Perfect? Perfect wouldn’t be a word I would use. I look thoroughly fucked! He tugs me to the door, unlocks it and strides out, devoid of wariness
, while I’m more cautious. I see his jacket still sprawled on the floor, and he scoops it up as we pass.
When we hit the curving staircase, I suddenly register my hand still in his, and I try to ease it from his grasp, but he squeezes it tighter, flashing me a scowl. Shit! He has to let go. My boss and colleagues are down here. I can’t go prancing through them holding hands with this strange man. I attempt to free my hand again, but he refuses to let it go.
“Jesse, let go of my hand.”
“No,” he shoots back, short and firm, and without even looking at me.
I stop abruptly halfway down the stairs and scan the room below. No one is looking at us, thank God, but it won’t be long before someone clocks us. Jesse turns, looking up at me from a few steps below.
“Jesse, you can’t expect me to parade through here holding your hand. That’s not fair. Please, let me go.”
He looks at our hands locked together, suspended between our bodies. “I’m not letting you go,” he murmurs sullenly. “If I let you go, you might forget how it feels. You might change your mind.”
There is absolutely no chance of me forgetting how we feel flesh on flesh, but that’s not the part of his statement that’s bothering me. “Change my mind about what?” I ask, totally perplexed.
“Me,” he says simply.
What about him? My mind hasn’t been made up on anything, so there’s nothing to change. My mind has just twisted further. I need to focus my attention on persuading him to release my hand before someone spots us, so I’ll file that comment, just like I’ve filed the other strange comments he made upstairs.
Holy shit! I nearly fall down the stairs when I see Sarah breezing across the terrace, reality crashing down around me. Surely when he sees her he’ll stop being such an unreasonable fool. She’s heading back inside. I don’t have time to fuck about, so I narrow my eyes on him and use brute force to yank my hand from his, nearly dislocating my shoulder in the process. He scowls at me, but I don’t hang around long enough to soak up his annoyance, taking the stairs fast, down to the vast openness of the penthouse. The woman has made it obvious that she dislikes me, and I can hardly blame her. She saw me as a threat and as it turns out, her fear was warranted.
I hit the bottom of the stairs and see Tom come running through the crowd of people, waving his arms about frantically. “There you are! Where have you been? Patrick has been looking for you everywhere.” He clasps my shoulders, checking me up and down, ever the drama queen. Noting my disheveled state, he eyes me suspiciously. I feel the heat rise in my cheeks.
“I was giving Mr Ward a tour,” I offer, rather unconvincingly, while waving my hand over my shoulder in the general direction of Jesse. I know he’s close behind me; I can still feel him brooding. And I can smell him, too, or that could be his scent all over me. I feel like I’ve been marked... claimed, even.
With his hands still clasped on my shoulders, Tom looks past me and gasps, yanking me closer, so his mouth is at my ear. “Darling, who is that divine being growling at me?” he asks, sniffing me.
I struggle out of his hands and turn to see Jesse drilling holes into Tom. I roll my eyes at his pathetic behaviour. Tom’s the gayest gay man in London. He can’t possibly be threatened by him.
“Tom, this is Mr Ward. Mr Ward, Tom. He’s a colleague. He’s also gay.” I add the last bit sarcastically. Tom won’t care – not that it isn’t bloody obvious anyway.
I look at Tom, who’s grinning widely, then cast my eyes over to Jesse, who’s stopped growling but doesn’t look any less pissed off. Tom prances forward, grabs Jesse’s shoulders and air kisses him. I stifle a laugh, watching as Jesse’s eyes bulge and his shoulders tense.
“It really is a pleasure,” Tom sings in Jesse’s face while stroking down his biceps. “Tell me, do you work out?”
A burst of laughter falls from my mouth and, rather immaturely, I decide to leave Jesse to cope with Tom’s outrageous flirting on his own. I catch his eyes as I turn to leave, seeing I’m being thrown daggers, but I couldn’t care less. He’s being stupidly unreasonable.
I find Patrick in the kitchen, and he waves me over, handing me a glass of champagne when I arrive. “Here she is,” Patrick announces to a tall man, draping his arm around my shoulder and hugging me against his big body. “This girl has transformed my company. I’m so proud of you, flower. Where have you been?” he asks, his blue eyes twinkling brightly and his cheeks bright red – a clear sign that he’s had too much to drink.
“I’ve been giving a few tours,” I lie, smiling sweetly as I’m squeezed against him.
“I’ve just been talking about you. Your ears must have been burning,” Patrick says. “This is Mr Van Der Haus, one of the developers. I was just saying you’ll be more than happy to assist on their new venture.”
“My partner has told me lots about you,” Van Der Haus says, smiling broadly. He’s very classy – all tall and white blond, with a bespoke suit and dress shoes. He’s quite handsome... for a mid-forties man... Another older man. “I’ll look forward to working with you.”
I blush. “I would be delighted, Mr Van Der Haus. What have you got in mind for the next project?” I ask eagerly.
“Please, call me Mikael. The building is nearly complete.” He broadens his smile. “We have settled on traditional Scandinavian. Being from Denmark, we’re going back to our roots.” His mild accent is really sexy.
Traditional Scandinavian? This most definitely panics me. Does this mean I’ll be hijacking IKEA? Shouldn’t they employ someone Scandinavian for this? “It sounds exciting,” I say, turning to place my glass on the worktop, spotting Jesse across the room with Sarah as I do.
Oh God. He’s drilling holes into me, and Sarah’s right bloody there. I swivel back to face my audience. The panic must be clear on my burning face.
“I think so,” Mikael agrees. “Once I’ve discussed a favourable fee with Patrick,” he points his champagne glass at my boss, “we can start building a specification. Then you can get started on some designs.”
“I look forward to it.” I shift on the spot, feeling Jesse’s eyes burning into my back.
“She won’t disappoint you, Mikael,” Patrick chirps.
He smiles. “I know she won’t. You’re an exceptionally talented young woman, Ava. Your vision is impeccable. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I feel the colour deepening in my face as he shakes Patrick’s hand and then mine. “I will be in touch,” he says, holding my hand in his a little longer than necessary before releasing it and strolling off.
I’m still tucked tightly under Patrick’s arm as Victoria approaches us and leans against the worktop in a huff.
“My feet are killing me,” she exclaims.
In unison, Patrick and I look down at her six-inch leopard-print platforms with blood red piping. They’re ridiculous.
Patrick looks at me, shaking his head, before releasing his hold and declaring his departure. “Irene will be waiting for me downstairs. I’ve gotten all the photographs.” He waves his camera at me. “I’ll see you on Monday morning.” He kisses each of us. “You’ve both worked hard tonight. Well done.” He takes his big body out of the kitchen, staggering slightly as he does.
Worked hard? I cringe.
“Oh, I nearly forgot.” Victoria drags my eyes away from Patrick’s swaying body, back to her. “Kate said she couldn’t wait around for you any more. She said that she hopes you’ve had fun and she’ll see you at home.”
Hopes I’ve had fun? Sardonic cow!
“Thanks, Victoria. Listen, I think we’re done here.” I pick up one more glass of champagne as the waiter passes. I can’t drive, so I may as well make the most of it. And damn, I need it. “I’m heading home. Go when you’re ready. I’ll see you on Monday.” I kiss her cheek.
“I’m going to hang around for a bit with Tom. He wants to go to Route Sixty for a dance.” She shakes her bum.
“Be prepared for a late one,” I warn. Once Tom’s on the dance floor you need a bulldozer
to get him off.
“No! I’ve told him, I can’t stay late. I’ve got too much to do tomorrow. And I can hardly walk in these stupid shoes.”
“Good luck with that. Say bye to Tom for me.”
“I will when I find him.” She limps off in her ridiculous heels, leaving me to finish my last glass of champagne.
I glance around the kitchen, but I don’t see Jesse or Sarah. I’m relieved. I don’t think I could look Sarah in the eye. I need to go and kick my loser arse around the flat for being so weak and easy.
I reach the penthouse elevator and punch in the code. It’ll be changed tomorrow for the new owner. I huff a little burst of laughter at the thought. Of course, Jesse Ward is the new owner. It’s been one hell of a day, and now that I’m alone, I can feel the foreseeable guilt begin to tumble over me. Oh, what a foolish, desperate woman I am.
“Leaving so soon?”
My shoulders raise and I wince at the cold, unfriendly voice. Straightening my expression, I turn to face Sarah. “It’s been a long and tiring day.”
She sips her champagne while eyeing me suspiciously. “You’re quite a surprise,” she purrs.
I really don’t know what to say. “Thank you,” I utter, turning back to the elevator when it opens.
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“I didn’t think it was,” I retort without looking at her.
“You know Jesse owns this place, right?”
I want to ask her if she’ll be living here, too, but of course, I don’t. “He mentioned it,” I say casually, stepping into the lift and punching the code in. “It was nice to see you.”
The doors close and I fall back against the mirrored wall.
Shit!
WHEN IT GETS HOT IN TEHRAN
Desire Page 36