Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
“Don’t sound so shocked,” I grumble, seriously offended, with no right to be.
“I’m sorry,” Zoe relents. “It’s just . . . well, you’re Jesse Ward.”
“Reformed.”
“And who is the lucky lady who’s taken the lord off the market?” she asks. “And is she prepared for the backlash?”
“Jesus, Zoe, I called for an appointment, not an audition for Mastermind.”
“And what would your specialist subject be?”
Fucking everything up. I lean back against the counter, looking down my well-formed naked body to my well-formed cock. “I don’t have a specialist subject.” We all know that’s not true. “Can you help me or not? I promised her a new dress for an important party.”
“Oh, is this The Manor anniversary?”
“Yes.” If she tries to get an invite out of me . . . I’ll have to give her one. Damn it. I’m the one who has more than used my sex appeal to get things I want, when I want them. Ava is no exception, it seems. I’m now banking on Zoe’s professional psyche . . . and her love of my pecuniary generosity. “We need a dress and a few other things. But don’t mention the other things. She’s . . .” How do I put it? “Independent.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“Ava especially so. Or at least she likes to try and prove she is.”
“Ava, huh?”
“Yes, Ava. She’s an interior designer. I met her when she came to The Manor to look at the extension.” That still hasn’t progressed. Do I care? So long as Ava and I are progressing? “Can you help me? I’ll be spending an obscene amount of money.” I can’t make it worthwhile for Zoe in one way, so I’ll pay her double her normal commission.
“How very Pretty Woman of you.”
“Please?”
She sighs. “I’m just getting on the Tube. I’ll look at my diary and text you.”
“You’re a legend. And will you tell Hans in the jewelry department to expect me?”
“Sure. I’ll be your PA as well as your personal shopper.”
“Thanks, Zoe, I owe you.” I hang up and tap my phone on my chin, thinking of the best way to get our day off together to the best start. That’s easy. I look down at my dick. It agrees.
I leave my phone and take myself upstairs, and I lift the covers, my eyes taking a long, appreciative jaunt from her shoulder blades, down her spine to her arse. I slide in behind her and spoon her, curling myself around her body, smelling her hair, kissing her shoulder, rolling my groin into her backside, marveling at how perfectly my body cocoons hers. “Wake up, sleepy head,” I whisper, reaching for my dick and stroking it to full hardness, slipping it across the crack of her arse, humming as I work my way down to her entrance, rolling the wet, swollen crown of my erection there, preparing her. A sleepy murmur. A mild arch of her body as I slip into her on a suppressed, broken groan, moving my hands to her hips, holding her. God, how she’s always ready for me.
She breathes out, her hands coming over her head and resting in my hair, and she cranes her neck, looking back at me with sleepy, half-open eyes as I pump carefully, the pleasure rippling through me calmly. Her mouth opens invitingly, pulling my lips onto hers, and we kiss as deeply as I plunge, our pace becoming more urgent with each drive, our tongues wilder, our bodies tighter.
“Ava, I can’t get enough of you,” I say, my mouth becoming clumsy, my brain scrambled. “Promise you’ll never leave me.”
“I won’t.”
I hiss when she yanks at my hair, as frustrated by constantly reassuring me as I am with myself for asking. She gets us back to kissing, telling me talking isn’t on her agenda right now or, more to the point, soothing me, and I’m here for it. But her mouth’s suddenly gone from mine and I stare into her eyes, a little surprised, a lot dazed, my hips now working on autopilot, grinding into her, taking all of the pleasure.
“Please believe me,” she says, her voice broken and rough.
Oh baby, how I wish I could. Frustration lands, and I try so fucking hard not to let it, but my body has taken on a mind of its own and it wants release. Ava gasps, turning away from me, and I stare at the back of her head, my face strained, as I hammer into her unforgivingly, chasing that release, hoping it releases so much more than the pressure in my dick.
My blood burns, my pace ramping up, my appetite ravenous, my need spiraling. “Fuck,” I yell, as it gets me, jerking my body, blowing my mind, squeezing my heart. I come so hard, hissing my way through the sensitivity, pouring into her, listening to the distorted sound of her shout of pleasure. I curse, grabbing at air, drawing it into my lungs urgently as I lose my grip of Ava and flop to my back, closing my eyes and concentrating on finding my breath, feeling her lazily crawl onto my chest.