This Man Read online Jodi Ellen Malpas (This Man #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, BDSM, Billionaire, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: This Man Series by Jodi Ellen Malpas
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 183150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 916(@200wpm)___ 733(@250wpm)___ 611(@300wpm)
<<<<142152160161162163164172182>194
Advertisement2


He gazes up at me, slowly rising to his feet, dragging his nose up between my breasts until he reaches my throat. He breathes into my neck. Oh, yes, I’m mentally begging for him, as per usual.

Latching on with his lips, he nips and licks at my delicate flesh. My skin is burning for him to touch me, I want to grab him. But I know this will be done on his terms.

‘Do you want my mouth on you, Ava?’ he asks softly.

My breath catches in my throat as his voice vibrates against my ear. I sigh, long and breathy.

‘You need to say the word.’ He brushes his lips over my ear. My knees shake.

‘Yes.’ I gasp on an exhale.

‘Do you want me to fuck you, baby?’

‘Jesse.’ I jerk as he strokes between my thighs.

‘I know. You want me.’ He bites down on my ear lobe, the metal of my silver studs chinking against his teeth. I shudder, panting and desperate for him. But then he pulls away, leaving me standing a wanton mass of hormones in front of him. ‘Stay there.’ he orders firmly, walking away.

He’s still fully dressed in his suit as I watch him stride away from me and open a cupboard, taking something out. Chocolate spread? My pulse accelerates.

Calmly, he makes his way back over to me. I run my eyes down his lean physic, delighting in the stiff bulge at his groin. I wait, undemanding and tolerant of his leisurely pace. When he finally reaches me, he gets up close and personal with my face, breathing his hot, minty breath all over me as his lips skim my cheeks, my eyes, my chin, finally resting gently on my lips.

I hum in pure pleasure, opening my mouth, but he breaks our kiss and starts lowering himself down my body. A barrage of heat floods me, my short, sharp breaths becoming suppressed and ragged. Looking up at me as he descends, his nose grazes my lace knickers, triggering my hands to fly out and grab his shoulders for support. He gives me that knowing smile and starts rising again, pressing his body against mine on his way.

‘You’re so affected by me,’ he breathes in my ear.

I shiver, catching my breath. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘I know you are. It…really…fucking…turns…me…on.’ He steps away from me. What’s he doing? His hands come up, and I register him holding my dress in one. And in the other…a pair of scissors.

He wouldn’t? He calmly opens the scissors and sets them at the hem of my dress. Then, very slowly, he snips up the centre as I watch on a gape. It seems he bloody would. A five hundred pound dress? I can’t even locate the ability to stop him or shout at him. I’m utterly stunned.

Not content with having my five hundred pound, taboo dress in two pieces, he proceeds to calmly chop it up into a further few scraps before placing the mutilated material, calmly and precisely with zero emotion, on the island with the scissors. He turns back to face me.

I find my voice. ‘I can’t believe you just did that.’

‘Don’t play games with me, Ava.’ he warns, all calm and controlled. He slips his hands in his trouser pockets and regards me closely as I stand in front of him, unequivocally staggered. All fuzzy tipsiness has completely gone. I’m sound minded, steady and absolutely astounded by his demonstration of so called power.

‘You,’ I point my finger in his face, ‘are crazy!’

His lips form a straight line. ‘I fucking feel it. Get your arse to bed!’

What? Get my arse to bed? The man is way past unreasonable – he’s completely impossible. I feel my brow knit. If I spend any more time with this man, I’ll be having Botox before I’m twenty seven. ‘I’m not getting in bed with you!’ I kick my heels off and pivot, leaving the kitchen and my simmering control freak behind. With me in my underwear and my dress in a dozen pieces, I’m pretty much screwed.

I take the stairs, slamming my feet down, huffing all the way. I could scream! He’s a raving fucking nutjob! Barging into the bedroom, I spot my gym bag at the end of the bed, but I know there are no clothes in there. I found that out this morning when my dress was set out waiting for me. Well, I’m not staying in here. No fucking way!

I stomp back out and head across the open landing, letting myself into the furthest spare bedroom. I have a choice of three others, but this one is my favourite and it’s the furthest away from him! I slam the door behind me and crawl into the wonderfully dressed bed that still looks like it did on launch night. Flinging all the fancy cushions on the floor, I slam my frustrated head down into the pillow. It doesn’t smell of fresh water and mint, and it’s nowhere near as comfortable as Jesse’s bed, but it will do for tonight. Tomorrow, I’m leaving. The man is deranged! There is just no bloody point even trying to have my own way. Even if he’s gentlemanly enough to give it to me, he tramples all over it later anyway.


Advertisement3

<<<<142152160161162163164172182>194

Advertisement4