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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When her face turns into mine and her pants of hot air spread across my face, I lose the battle not to voice my lingering fears. “Don’t stop this.”

She starts trembling under my hold. “I don’t want to.” Her answer is soft but sure, and I deflate, my perplexing anxiety leaving me. I knew deep down she was with me in this, but those words have filled a huge void of doubt. And every amazing thing I feel when in this woman’s orbit intensifies.

“It’s a good job. I don’t think I’d let you.” I push myself into her back, my mouth falling straight to her ear again. “I’m going to take your dress off now.” I catch her nod and clamp down lightly on her lobe. “You’re too fucking beautiful, Ava.” I skim my lips across her ear.

“Oh God,” she breathes, leaning on me and pushing her lower back into my groin.

Good lord, I’m suddenly throbbing, my jaw ready to shatter like glass from the harshness of my bite. “Do you feel that?” I push into her, and she moans. “I’m going to have you, lady.” I’m sober and the most turned on I’ve ever been. She’s magic. A cure.

My savior?

I blink and place a fingertip at the top of her spine, drawing a perfect line down her back, nodding mildly as the signs of her craving moves up a level. Her skin is on fire beneath this dress. I can feel her need, smell her anticipation. I take the zipper, placing my free hand on her hip. She jerks, and my grip firms up, making sure I hold her in place. She can’t run, not now. I gently tug the zip down and slide my hands onto her bare flesh beneath it, flexing my fingers before pushing the material away from her body and letting it drop to the floor.

Oh fucking hell.

I knew it.

Lace.

I can’t control the sharp breath that’s just escaped. “Lace,” I whisper. God, she is fucking glorious in lace. Grabbing her waist, I lift her slight frame, freeing her ankles of her dress. She feels so right in my hold, like she’s been molded to fit perfectly in my grasp. I need to see her face again. Need to see the lust in her eyes, her craving, her desperation. And, God, she really needs to see mine.

I turn her around slowly, taking in every inch of her skin as I do. She’s focused on my lips. She wants to kiss me. I’ve got her, and I’m going to take my sweet time savoring every fucking moment of this.

My hand rises and finds her breast, my finger painting perfect circles around the rim of her nipple. Her body concaves with her tiny gasp, her eyes studying my fascinated face. I want to touch her as much as I want to slam into her. I want to run my hands over every square inch of her body, kiss her from head to toe, lose myself in her, and hold her while we both recover from what I know is going to be a universe-shaking experience.

I take her other breast, and I’m slightly shocked when her hands lift and rest on my chest.

Shit. Fucking shit.

I’m the one flinching now, and the look of satisfaction that flashed across her face is like a shot of adrenalin. She knows she’s affecting me too, but does she know that this is absolutely unheard of?

I turn her around. “I want to see you,” she breathes.

I smile to myself. “Shh.” I unclasp her lace bra before sliding my hands under the straps. Her skin is like velvet. I want permanent access to this. My heart is not easing up on the persistent, thundering pounds. It feels too good.

I push her bra away from her body, breathing heavily in her ear. “You. And. Me.” It’s the perfect combination, I was certain of it, and now I’ve had it confirmed that this woman will be my undoing. I can’t hold back anymore. I spin her around and kiss her, my body folding under the pleasure of our lips connecting. I coax her mouth open and take her like I really mean it, and I really fucking do. She flings her arms over my shoulders and yanks me closer, and I can’t help grinding my hips into her, trying desperately to cool the incessant throb in my cock. I moan, my hands drifting all over her bare skin until they reach her hair, my fingers spreading across the back of her head and my palms cupping her cheeks. I force myself to pull away, needing her eyes again, needing to check she’s real and this isn’t some cruel dream. She swallows, blinks, and scans my face. I can’t control my heaving chest, and I’ve given up trying to regulate my breathing. I’m a fucked-up mess of a man. She’s just blown everything I know and live by right out of the water. My forehead falls to hers, my eyes closing as I try to figure out some of this shit. I can’t. I haven’t the first idea what the fuck this is, but I’m sure of one thing. We’ll be doing this again.


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