Free Beneath This Man by Jodi Ellen Malpas Page A

lips in a slow, sensual kiss, full of meaning. He releases his hold of me and my hands fly to his back, slipping across his damp skin.
    His tactic has changed completely. Slowly and leisurely, he drives in and out of me, pushing me up towards complete rapture as I clasp at his damp back, holding as tight as I can. Sex with Jesse has always been beyond compare, but this moment holds a significant power that I never thought possible. He loves me.
    I struggle to keep my emotions in check when he pulls back and holds his face to mine, nose to nose, eyes full of sentiment. I’m coming apart. The consistency of his controlled, deep thrusts has me shuddering and tensing around him as my core convulses and grips his shaft on each and every plunge. The sheen of sweat across his brow and his frown line deep with concentration tells me he’s tipping the edge too. Tilting my hips up on a thrust, I moan as he fills me to my absolute limit, the feel of his rhythmic, meticulous tempo having me wanting to squeeze my eyes shut, but I can’t drag them away from his.
    ‘Together.’ he says, his hot breath spreading across my face.
    ‘Yes,’ I gasp, feeling him expand and throb in preparation for his release.
    ‘Christ, Ava.’ A rush of air escapes his lips and his body goes rigid, but he doesn’t remove his eyes from mine. My back arches on reflex when the spiraling rush of pleasure reaches its climax and sends me tumbling into a hurricane of uncontrollable feelings. I cry out in complete despairing pleasure, my body trembling in his hold. I close my eyes to blink back the tears that have developed as my orgasm begins to recede slowly and lazily with his continued even strokes.
    ‘Eyes,’ he commands softy, and I obey, opening my eyes again.
    He moans deeply and I tighten all of my muscles at my core to grip him and extract his release from him. How is he keeping his head up and his eyes open? I can see the battle he’s having with his instincts to hammer into me and throw his head back, but he’s keeping a rein on his control. And then, you can almost hear the snap of his release as his cheeks puff out and he pushes himself into me, long and hard, holding himself there, my muscles obliging his throbbing erection and continuing with their slow, easy constrictions as he pours into me.
    ‘I love you.’ I say quietly as he looks down at me, his chest heaving. There. I’ve put it out there. My cards are well and truly on the table, and he didn’t technically fuck that one out of me.
    He rests his lips on mine. ‘I know you do, baby.’
    ‘How did you know?’ I ask. I know I’ve never told him. I’ve screamed it in my head a thousand times, but I have never actually voiced it.
    ‘You told me when you were drunk,’ He smiles, ‘After I showed you how to dance.’
    I do a quick run through of the night when I got ridiculously drunk and relented to his persistent pursuing again. I remember admitting it to myself, but I certainly don’t remember blurting it out to him. Mind you, I don’t remember much after Jesse escorted me from the bar. I was in a state. That’s his fault too.
    ‘I don’t remember.’ I admit. I feel bloody stupid.
    ‘I know you don’t,’ He grinds his hips.
    I sigh.
    ‘It was so fucking frustrating.’
    It all comes flooding back. He really was trying to fuck a love confession out of me. He watches me as I figure it out, and his mouth forms an O on a small smile.
    ‘You knew all along.’ I say quietly.
    Drunken confessions.
    I had beaten myself up about it for days and days, and he knew all along? Why didn’t he say something? Why didn’t he just talk to me instead of trying to fuck it out of me? So much could have been so very different.
    His smile disappears and is replaced with a stoic expression. ‘You were drunk. I wanted to hear the words when you were of sound mind. Women get drunk all the time and confess their undying love to me.’
    ‘Do they?’ I blurt.
    He almost laughs. ‘Yes,