“Quiet,” I order, powering into her mercilessly, every muscle of mine tense, every one of hers squeezing me beautifully. I stare down at her flawless back, my jaw tight, my vision clouded by a passion and lust that’s beyond my control. When I’m inside her, there is nothing else. Nowhere my mind can wander. Only she exists—how she feels, how she looks, how she sounds. Her sodden, hot flesh blistering me. The shockwaves riding through me collect together and deliver one hell of a sucker punch to my heart.

I release my hand from her mouth, and she gasps, her head thrown back in ecstasy. “Jesse!”

“I said, quiet,” I grate, my eyes dropping to her arse, seeing my cock entering and withdrawing, the sight dizzying. She’s meeting every one of my punishing advances, her hands clutching at the bedding. I’m going to come so hard, it might knock me out. Good. Hopefully, I’ll come around in the morning when she’s home from her night out, because I am not winning this battle. I know that. I know her. But, make no mistake, I will win the fucking war. I’ll be scarred. Beaten. Wounded. But I’ll win.

My hands squeeze her hips as she blesses my hearing with the sounds of her pleasure, blood whooshing up my dick, my shaft becoming sore with the friction. She starts hitting the pillow, her yells suppressed. She’s coming, and by the sound of it, as hard as I am.

Fuck! I plunge deep one last time, my climax catching me off guard, my body folding over Ava’s collapsed form, my dick surging relentlessly, emptying inside of her. She groans. I pant. Holy fucking shit, if that doesn’t convince her to come home to me, I have no fucking clue what will.

“Please, tell me that it’s you,” she wheezes, both of us a useless pile of breathlessness.

I smile. “It’s me.” Turning my face into her skin, I lap up the salt mixed with me and her. “Don’t be having another shower,” I whisper.

“Why?”

I hiss as I withdraw, my dick pleading to go back. Turning her over, I secure her to the bed and take a few moments admiring her flushed face and drowsy eyes. Perhaps she’s too exhausted to go out. Wouldn’t that be satisfying? “Because, I want me all over you when you’re out.” I kiss her softly, taking that little bit more life I need, floating away.

“Do men have an instinct for recently fucked women?”

And then she brings me back down to earth with her disgusting language. “Mouth.” I lick my lips and flinch. Alcohol. I can taste alcohol. “You’ve had a drink.”

“No.”