I smash on, pushing her higher up the door and me further into delirium. She’s lost, her mind empty except for me. Me and the pleasure I give her. “Does it feel good?”

“Oh God, yes!”

I kiss her with unjustified vigor, sweating hard. “I said, quiet.”

Her nails sink deeper into my shoulders, and I hiss, the pressure in my cock becoming painful. I’m going to come so fucking hard, and I need her there with me.

Her body jacks, she shudders violently, she screams, and it’s like rocket fuel to my dick. I explode inside her, smashing my fist into the door by her head, every muscle tightening to stem the sensitivity.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I gasp for air, my lungs on fire, feeling her walls gripping me mercilessly. My face slips against the wet skin of her neck, her pores leaking pure sex. “I might bring you to work every day,” I whisper through my labored breathing, clenching my eyes shut as I slowly ease out of her. She looks dazed. Lifeless. “Are you okay?”

She stays where she is, leaning on me for support. Always. I hope. “Don’t let go of me.”

I laugh lightly. Never. I lean back with a small smile as she locates some air to puff her damp hair from her wet face.

“Hi,” she squeaks.

“She’s back.” I kiss her affectionately and pick her up, knowing she’s not capable of walking. And I like carrying her. I place her on the couch and sort myself out, relishing the smile she’s holding back. She’s happy. But as I consider this room—and the shit that has gone down in here over the last two weeks—it makes me want to get rid of every item of furniture and start again. Fresh slate. No erroneous, unforgivable mistakes. But for now, I’ll focus on the good, and that is Ava. She’s been out of my arms for a matter of seconds, and I already miss her. So I put myself on the couch and drag her onto my lap. “I thought you could go up to the extension and start drafting some ideas.” And while she’s there, I’m going to write that list of things we need to talk about.

She looks taken aback, and for a moment I wonder if I said that out loud. “You still want me to design?” she asks.

“Of course I do.”

“I thought you just wanted me for my body.” Her eyebrows rise, and I wrinkle my nose, reaching for her nipple and giving it a little flick.