Beneath This Man

I roll over and climb onto his body, straddling his hips and laying on his chest, nuzzling my face in his neck. ‘That wasn’t sleepy sex.’ I declare into his neck then press my lips to his throbbing vein.

‘No?’ he pants.

‘No. That was a sleepy f**k.’ I wince, immediately realising that I’ve just swore and we haven’t even got out of bed yet.

‘For God’s sake, Ava. Stop swearing!’ he grates with one hundred percent frustration.

I need to sort my mouth out, I never usually swear, it’s him! ‘Sorry.’ I bite his neck and suck a little.

‘Are you trying to mark me?’ he asks, but he doesn’t stop me.

‘No, just tasting.’

He turns his face into me and finds my lips, wrapping his big arms around my back. ‘Breakfast?’

I’m hungry and I want to feed Jesse, but I’m comfy where I am. I peck his lips and slide myself down his body until I’m nestled under his arm pit. ‘I’m comfy.’ I trail a path down his chest to his scar, tracing the length of his wound back and forth.

‘I love you, lady.’ He pulls his knee up into a bent position and lets me have my way. It’s a novelty.

‘I know you do.’

‘Do you?’ he asks uncertainly.

His question throws me. Of course I do. He tells me all of the time and if it’s as much as I love him, then it’s a lot. Immeasurable, in fact. Please don’t tell me that he doubts me here too. I look up at him. ‘Yes, I do.’

He reaches down and pulls me up his body and then flips me onto my back, pinning me under him with my wrists in his grasp above my head. ‘I don’t know if you do.’ His eyes burn into mine, his face serious.

Where has this come from? ‘You tell me enough, of course I know.’ I try and free my wrists so I can hold his face, but he refuses to let me go.

‘Words will never be enough, Ava.’ He’s so serious.

‘Is that why you test me with your challenging ways?’ I ask, in an attempt to lighten him up. I don’t like how downhearted he looks. I wish he wouldn’t worry about me leaving, me loving him, and wondering if I know how much he loves me. All those ships have long sailed.

‘Everything I do is because I am so crazy mad in love with you. I’ve never felt like this before, not ever.’ He’s almost scowling at me, like he’s mad that he feels this way. ‘I lose my head just at the thought of losing you. It makes me a total madman. Believe me, I’m aware of that.’ He drops a kiss on my lips. ‘I drive you insane, don’t I?’

Oh good Lord above! Is he admitting that he’s challenging? ‘You are very challenging, but you’re my challenging man and I love you, so you’re worth the frustration.’

‘You’re pretty challenging yourself, lady.’ he says dryly.

My eyes bulge. ‘Me?’ The man is a bloody nutcase!

‘But I love you too, and you are so, so worth the headache.’

I want to…well, challenge him. No sooner has he given me what I want – an admission – he tramples it with his own accusations.

Me? Challenging?

I start to make my case, but he hushes me with his lush lips, and I’m distracted instantly. He knows what he’s doing. I relax my aching, overworked tongue and fall into his slow, lapping rhythm, my hands still pinned above my head. His mouth is the most marvelous thing in the world.

He pecks my lips. ‘I knew you were the one the second I laid eyes on you.’

‘The one?’ I’m intrigued. His persistence and insistence that I belonged with him at the beginning of our relationship has always been confusing to me.

He nuzzles my ear. ‘The one to bring me back to life.’ he says in that matter-of-fact tone – the one that basically means he is saying something only he understands. Was he dead?

‘How did you know?’ He’s talking. I need to extract as much from him as possible.

He looks me straight in the eyes. They are bursting with meaning. ‘Because my heart started beating again.’ he whispers.

A lump jumps into my throat as I look up, completely stunned by his admission. That is some serious deep, and I’m totally overwhelmed by it. I don’t know what to say. He’s looking down at me, this devastating man, like I’m the only thing that exists.

I pull at his grip on my wrists until he lets go and throw my arms around his body, my legs around his waist, holding onto him like he is the only thing that exists.

He is, for me.

I don’t know the whys and wherefores of that statement, but the power of those words really does say it all. He can’t live without me. Well, I couldn’t live without him either. This man is my world.

He lays still over me and lets me squeeze him until my muscles ache. ‘Can I feed you?’ I ask when my thigh muscles start to scream in protest. He lifts me from the bed, still coiled around his body, and carries me from the bedroom, down the stairs. ‘I’m going to forget how to use my legs.’ I say as he reaches the bottom and heads for the kitchen.

‘Then I’ll carry you everywhere.’

‘You would like that, wouldn’t you?’ It would be a perfect excuse for him to have me nailed to him.

‘I would love it.’ He smirks at me and parks me on the cold marble, the coldness radiating through my backside reminding me that we’re both stark, bollock naked. I admire his perfect arse as he walks over to the fridge and collects an assortment of breakfast things and a jar of peanut butter.

I slide off the island. ‘I’m supposed to be making you breakfast.’ I shove him out of the way. ‘Sit.’ I command in my most demanding tone. He grins and grabs the jar of peanut butter, before tweaking my nipple and doing a runner to the stool. ‘What do you want?’ I ask as I shove some bread in the toaster. I turn and see him diving into his fresh jar.