This Woman (This Man – The Story from Jesse #1) Read Online Jodi Ellen Malpas

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: This Man - The Story from Jesse Series by Jodi Ellen Malpas
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Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
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I swallow and reach for Ava’s chest, laying my hand between her breasts. The feel of the beats pulsing into my touch makes me smile sadly, uncomfortable with the life seeping into me. Because if there is one thing in the world I know for sure, it’s that life isn’t guaranteed. It can be stolen. Ripped away. I can’t allow that to happen again. I’ll never survive it.

My touch moves to her face. Her skin is glowing. Her lashes are incomprehensibly long. Her lips are beautifully swollen and pink. You need this. “Do whatever it takes,” I whisper, my eyes traveling across her peaceful face. “You want to be here,” I tell her quietly. “And I will absolutely ensure it’s the best decision you’ll ever make.” I lean in and drop a kiss on her lips, and she murmurs sleepily, her hand lifting and falling onto my nape. I pull back a little, studying her. “Save me, Ava,” I whisper. “You’re the only one who can.” My eyes close, and I sink my face into her neck as she skates her hand back and forth across my nape for a few hypnotic moments, before her moves slow to nothing again. I remain still against her. Rested, despite my restlessness. Calm, despite the swirl of torment inside. Happy, despite the misery shrouding my existence.

I tear myself from her body and tuck her in, then pad quietly out of the bedroom, taking myself down to the kitchen for some water. As I’m downing the glass, my eyes land on her purse. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and approach with caution, my eyes flicking to the doorway, my mind seeing her snuggled up safely in my bed. Unconscious. Unaware. This huge, sprawling penthouse feels somehow homelier with Ava here. My life is somehow more tolerable.

I reach into her purse gingerly and shift a few things aside. A pack of pills lays at the bottom. Take them.

I retract my hand, stepping back, getting a safe distance away. “Stop it,” I say to my wayward mind. “Just—” My foot catches something on the floor, and I glance down. Her shoe. I look across the kitchen and spy the rest of her clothes, scattered all over the place. Without a second thought, and perhaps to get me away from her purse, I gather her things and place them on the island. And stare at them.

Keep her.

I scoop the pile up and go to the fridge—the fucking fridge?—and stuff them all inside. I close the door. Stare at it. “Call the fucking shrink, Ward,” I say, and yet I don’t rectify my move. Instead, I collect my clothes from the floor and pace out of the kitchen, refusing to look at her purse, my face bunching up as I fight off the devil on my shoulder yelling at me to secure the deal. For fuck’s sake.

Distraction.

I take the stairs two at a time, already feeling like it’s been too long since I’ve seen her, touched her, kissed her. I find her sprawled on her back, her hair wild and fanning the pillows, the sheets skimming her waist. Her skin tone against the crisp white is utter perfection. I take my phone out of the pocket of my trousers before I toss them in the washing basket, and I check the screen as I go back to the bed. I stop at the edge. Stare down at my sister’s name. Fuck. I clear her missed call and file that problem away to deal with another time.

Then gently pull the covers down Ava’s body, exposing her completely, and crawl onto the bed, putting myself between her legs, my chest blanketing hers. Peace is mine again. The feel of her boobs squished against me? Pure bliss. Her breaths warming my face? Total gratification. The feeling inside of me? Absolute, complete, earth-shifting, universe-shaking love.

I cradle her head with my arms, nuzzle her nose, shift my hips a fraction to make room for my instant morning glory, and it falls perfectly to the soft, warm place between her thighs. Complete heaven.

Her eyes blink their way open, and I see her mind slowly figure out where she is and with who.

“Morning, lady,” I whisper, feeling her body tighten beneath mine, every limb stretching as best it can with me restraining her.

“Morning, yourself.” Her voice is rough and throaty, and the steady beats of her heart against my chest increase. Instant want. Instant need.

One roll of my hips puts me inside her, and I drop my head for a moment, my teeth gritting, the feeling . . . out of this world. This. Every morning, this.

I force some life into my muscles and lift my heavy head, retreating and driving forward again slowly, watching her immediately coming undone. She holds on to my arms tightly, gazing up at me.


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