Home > This Man Confessed (This Man #3)(69)

This Man Confessed (This Man #3)(69)
Author: Jodi Ellen Malpas

‘I’m ready.’ I’m floating away.

He stoops and hovers at my entrance, then drops my lips. ‘Open your eyes for me, baby.’

I instantly comply, the magnetism of his own pulling me straight to where they should be. I watch him as he unhurriedly breaches my opening and slides into me. ‘Oh God,’ I breath, maintaining our eye contact, refusing to break this incredible intimacy.

‘Jesus,’ His cheeks puff slightly, he shakes his head very mildly and a shimmer of sweat materialises across his brow as he reaches down and takes the back of my thighs and lifts them to his narrow hips before drawing back and pushing forward on a low, throaty moan, dipping his head and latching onto my throat. My head naturally falls to the side, my eyes closing, as he lazily licks up the column, finishing with a tender kiss under my ear. ‘I set the pace.’ he murmurs, ‘and you follow.’

His words make me swallow hard and turn into his mouth, capturing his lips and worshipping him while he truly blesses me with the consistent, calm and controlled advances of his hips.

In and out. In and out. In and out.

When we’re like this, nothing and no one else exists. We’re surrounded by this calming music, we are both calm, but we are both sticky, gliding against each other’s bodies and completely out of our mind on pleasure. Out he pulls, and in he goes again. He’s filling me wholly and not just with each and every perfect stroke. My heart is full, too. It’s full of fierce, powerful, undying love.

He pushes forward, but this time I hear a clear, harsh pull of breath. ‘You’re going to come.’ My words come out on a quiet rush of breath.

‘Not yet.’ I watch as his eyes clench shut and his frown line trails the entire width of his brow, and he still maintains his steady pace. He is remarkably controlled, but I’m moving fast to where I need to be. Just looking at that face has sent the spiralling rush of pressure descending downwards and now I’m worried that I’ll break before Jesse.

I pant and rest my lips on his again. It’s me who teases this time, and he eagerly accepts, his tongue darting into my mouth and mimicking my big sweeping circles. His fingers dig into the backs of my thighs and lift me a little higher so he can get more leverage. He hits me firmly and yells into my mouth as I free his lips and take refuge in the crook of his neck on a supressed cry as I’m attacked by feverish spasms. He’s grinding firmly, retreating slowly, and flowing back in, so controlled.

‘Jesus f**king Christ,’ he mumbles quietly, drawing back and striking precisely and expertly one last mind splitting time.

‘Jesse!’ I latch onto his shoulder and bite down hard, while I ride out the violent pulsations firing off all over my body. He bucks, yells and squeezes my thighs as he comes, the feeling of his scorching essence filling me, warming me, completing me. I’m light headed and limp, but oddly feel stronger than ever before.

His face is buried in my neck, mine in his, and despite the calmness of that whole lovemaking session, the ending wasn’t a calm roll over into orgasm, and it wasn’t a frenzied rush to explosion. We just found our middle ground—a mixture of pure, gentle Jesse, and the dominant sex Lord I love.

‘That was perfect.’ I whisper in his ear. I really need to hold him, but I don’t need to ask. He’s already grasping me with one arm and reaching across with the other to undo me. He then swaps arms and releases my other hand. In spite of the slight ache and lack of life in my limbs, they still find their way around Jesse’s strong shoulders. I smother him completely, my thighs tightening and my cheek resting on his shoulders as he carries me over to the bed and takes us down, me beneath him. The cool satin is a welcome sensation across my hot, clammy back, and it doesn’t escape my notice that he isn’t spreading his full weight all over me, instead opting to hold himself up slightly across my tummy.

‘Do you like our room?’ he asks into my hair.

I smile up at the ceiling. ‘Are we going to have a cradle put in here? You know, for when we bring our baby to The Manor.’ My question is enough to plant the seed, and judging by the stilling of his heaving body, my seed has settled well.

He slowly pulls himself up and shifts to my side, resting the side of his head in his palm on his propped elbow. His fingertip starts circling around my bellybutton while he studies me. ‘Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, lady.’

I put on my most innocent face. I know it won’t make a jot of difference. He’s cottoned right on to my little dig. ‘Just a question.’

His eyebrows slowly rise and serious eyes skate down my body to watch the slow rotations of his finger. ‘You have a bump.’

I shrink further into the mattress on an offended snort. ‘Don’t be stupid! I’m barely pregnant.’

‘I’m not being stupid.’ His hand flattens and strokes softly. ‘It’s faint, but it’s there.’ He leans down and kisses my belly before propping his head on his bent arm again. ‘I know this body, and I know it’s changing.’

I frown and look down and my stomach, but it looks perfectly flat to me. He’s seeing things now. ‘Whatever you say, Jesse.’ I’m not arguing after that perfect moment, even if I do want to slap him for insinuating that I’ve put on weight.

He leans down again and gets his mouth up close to my abdomen. ‘See, peanut? Your mother’s learning who has the power.’

‘No peanut!’ I throw my head up and lob him a mighty scowl. He’s grinning at me. ‘Think of another name. You’re not referring to our child as something disgusting that you obsess about and devour daily.’

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