This Man Confessed
Page 15
I can’t talk. My throat is blocked, my eyes are watering and my stomach is aching from turning so much. What the hell is wrong with me? I’d hardly started. I’ve taken him endlessly like that and it’s never had this effect. Shit, I feel queasy. I grab some toilet tissue and dab at my forehead. I really need to get a grip and get my arse back in there to release him before he has heart failure.
‘Ava!’ There’s an almighty crash, and then he steams into the bathroom, shirt open, trousers undone, and a look of pure dread on his face.
I try to wave an arm at him, anything to reassure him that I’m okay, but I’m quickly grasping the side of the toilet again, bracing my arms as I continue to gag and choke.
‘Jesus, baby.’ He sounds so worried, the neurotic fool. I’m only being sick. I feel him close in behind me and gather my tresses, holding them and rubbing my back.
‘I’m fine.’ I wipe my face and rub my palms over my cheeks when I know I can’t possibly throw up anymore.
‘Clearly.’ he mutters dryly. ‘Let me look at you.’
I shuffle around on a sigh. ‘Still want to fuck me?’ I ask in attempt to soothe his obvious worry.
He rolls his eyes, ‘Ava, please.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Lady, you’ll kill me off, I swear.’ He pushes my hair from my face. ‘You okay?’
‘No, I feel sick.’ I collapse forward, my cheek colliding with his bare chest where his shirt is open.
‘Why do you think that is?’ he asks quietly.
I stiffen. I’m really not ready to deal with it yet. I’m not ready to rip him to shreds for hiding my pills. I haven’t got the energy right now, so I keep my mouth shut, but I need to take my head out of the sand and face reality—the reality that I’m most certainly pregnant. ‘Take me to bed, please.’
I hear him exhale deeply. It’s an obvious demonstration of frustration. I won’t be allowed to live in denial for much longer, but his need to care for me at the moment is getting me off the hook. He stands and pulls me up. ‘You are the most frustrating woman on the fucking planet. You want to brush your teeth?’
‘Please.’
He smiles down at me and brushes his knuckles across my cheek. ‘Everything will be fine.’
Will it? Fine for him. He gets what he wants, although why he wants it is a fucking mystery. ‘Okay.’ I agree feebly, catching a glimpse of a hanging handcuff from his wrist… and a huge red blister. ‘Jesse! What have you done?’ I grab his hand and turn it over, discovering the inner side on his wrist displaying a mass of angry red welts. I suck in a shocked breath. Shit, that looks sore.
He pulls his wrist from my grip and removes the cuffs, throwing them to the floor. ‘You keep my heart beating, baby, but you can also make it fucking stop.’ He shakes his head and lifts me onto the counter. ‘You said you couldn’t live without me, didn’t you?’
‘Yes,’
He narrows accusing eyes on me. ‘Then stop trying to kill me off.’
I feel a grin surfacing. ‘You’re such a drama queen.’
‘There is nothing dramatic about being worried when my wife throws up after I’ve just thrust my cock in her mouth.’
I burst into laughter. My head falls back, my eyes close and I laugh. Really hard. I have tears and all. I can’t stop, and he lets me have my moment, waiting patiently with my toothbrush hovering in front of my mouth. ‘I’m sorry!’ I chuckle. ‘I’m really sorry.’ I wipe my eyes and home straight in on a pair of curious greens, a raised brow and a chewed lip. ‘It is quite funny, though.’
‘I’m glad you find it amusing. Open your mouth.’
I let my jaw drop open and he sets about brushing my teeth for me. When he’s done, he runs a cool wash cloth over my brow before scooping me up and transporting me to the bed. My eyes widen when I clock the headboard. It’s mangled, with strips of wood all splintered and hanging off.
‘In you get.’ He places me on the edge, and I waste no time crawling up and snuggling down, letting out a long, contented sigh.
I turn over and watch him undress, my greedy gaze drinking in his perfection. ‘I can’t believe I’m spending my first night as your wife in one of your torture chambers.’ The unpleasant thought has me shifting slightly and wondering who has been in this bed and what has gone down. Suddenly I want to get out.
‘No one has slept in this bed, Ava.’ He knows what I’m thinking.
I frown. ‘They’ve not?’
He smiles as he shrugs his shirt off. ‘No one has been in this room since I cornered you.’ He’s watching me closely, and my mind reflects back to that day when I found myself trapped and silently willing him on. ‘And the bed is new.’
‘Really?’ I blurt, a little shocked.
He laughs. ‘Really.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m not having you in a bed that others have…’ His frown line surfaces again. ‘frequented.’ he finishes.
‘And no one has been in this room since me?’ I ask.
He kicks his trousers off and draws his boxers down his legs. ‘Only me. Get your underwear off. I want you naked.’
I reach down and push my knickers from my legs. ‘Did you sit in here quietly and think about me?’ I ask on a grin.
He strides over to a unit of drawers and pulls the top one open. ‘More than you know.’ he answers quietly, turning and holding up a bra.
My bra.
‘That’s my bra!’ I blurt. I have a sudden flurry of flashbacks from when he cornered me. I left my bra, and he stored it there all this time?
He chucks it on the top of the drawers and shrugs sheepishly, then paces over to the bed and slips in beside me. I immediately crawl onto his chest and settle myself all over him, my face nuzzling straight into his neck.
‘Comfy?’ he asks.
‘Hmmm.’ I hum, my hands wandering all over the place, needing to feel him and relish in the flesh on flesh contact.
He sat in here quietly and thought of me. He kept my bra. No one has been in here, except me, and he’s replaced the bed.
‘How do you feel?’ he asks, letting me smother him.
‘I’m fine.’ I sigh. I’m fine at the moment, but not for long, no doubt.
He matches my sigh. ‘She’s fine.’ I’m held tighter, his heartbeat thumping against my breastbone. ‘Go to sleep, my beautiful girl.’
And I do. My eyes slowly close and I’m gone.
Chapter 6
I open my eyes and stretch. It’s an over-the-top, noisy, satisfying, completely contented extension of my body all over the bed. Then I smile to myself, listening to him in the bathroom—the sound of the tap jetting out streams of hot water into the tub, him collecting all of the cosmetics he’ll need, and then the unmistakable sound of him swishing the water to instigate some bubbles. My self-professed bath man is keeping to his word. We’re going to have a long soak in the bath and undoubtedly some tub talk whilst we’re there. Do I want tub talk today?
Shuffling myself to the edge of the gigantic bed, I take my naked form over to the suite’s bathroom and lean myself up against the doorframe. He’s sitting on a chair in the window, elbows resting on his knees, looking out across The Manor’s grounds. He’s naked too, every finely tuned muscle protruding from his back and his dark blonde hair damp from the condensation filling the vast space. I could stand all day and watch him, but even from here and with his back to me, I can see the cogs of his mind racing around at a hundred miles per hour. He’s probably thinking about my denial, and he’s undoubtedly thinking about how he can keep me at home. It’s Monday tomorrow, therefore a work day.
‘Ava!’ There’s an almighty crash, and then he steams into the bathroom, shirt open, trousers undone, and a look of pure dread on his face.
I try to wave an arm at him, anything to reassure him that I’m okay, but I’m quickly grasping the side of the toilet again, bracing my arms as I continue to gag and choke.
‘Jesus, baby.’ He sounds so worried, the neurotic fool. I’m only being sick. I feel him close in behind me and gather my tresses, holding them and rubbing my back.
‘I’m fine.’ I wipe my face and rub my palms over my cheeks when I know I can’t possibly throw up anymore.
‘Clearly.’ he mutters dryly. ‘Let me look at you.’
I shuffle around on a sigh. ‘Still want to fuck me?’ I ask in attempt to soothe his obvious worry.
He rolls his eyes, ‘Ava, please.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Lady, you’ll kill me off, I swear.’ He pushes my hair from my face. ‘You okay?’
‘No, I feel sick.’ I collapse forward, my cheek colliding with his bare chest where his shirt is open.
‘Why do you think that is?’ he asks quietly.
I stiffen. I’m really not ready to deal with it yet. I’m not ready to rip him to shreds for hiding my pills. I haven’t got the energy right now, so I keep my mouth shut, but I need to take my head out of the sand and face reality—the reality that I’m most certainly pregnant. ‘Take me to bed, please.’
I hear him exhale deeply. It’s an obvious demonstration of frustration. I won’t be allowed to live in denial for much longer, but his need to care for me at the moment is getting me off the hook. He stands and pulls me up. ‘You are the most frustrating woman on the fucking planet. You want to brush your teeth?’
‘Please.’
He smiles down at me and brushes his knuckles across my cheek. ‘Everything will be fine.’
Will it? Fine for him. He gets what he wants, although why he wants it is a fucking mystery. ‘Okay.’ I agree feebly, catching a glimpse of a hanging handcuff from his wrist… and a huge red blister. ‘Jesse! What have you done?’ I grab his hand and turn it over, discovering the inner side on his wrist displaying a mass of angry red welts. I suck in a shocked breath. Shit, that looks sore.
He pulls his wrist from my grip and removes the cuffs, throwing them to the floor. ‘You keep my heart beating, baby, but you can also make it fucking stop.’ He shakes his head and lifts me onto the counter. ‘You said you couldn’t live without me, didn’t you?’
‘Yes,’
He narrows accusing eyes on me. ‘Then stop trying to kill me off.’
I feel a grin surfacing. ‘You’re such a drama queen.’
‘There is nothing dramatic about being worried when my wife throws up after I’ve just thrust my cock in her mouth.’
I burst into laughter. My head falls back, my eyes close and I laugh. Really hard. I have tears and all. I can’t stop, and he lets me have my moment, waiting patiently with my toothbrush hovering in front of my mouth. ‘I’m sorry!’ I chuckle. ‘I’m really sorry.’ I wipe my eyes and home straight in on a pair of curious greens, a raised brow and a chewed lip. ‘It is quite funny, though.’
‘I’m glad you find it amusing. Open your mouth.’
I let my jaw drop open and he sets about brushing my teeth for me. When he’s done, he runs a cool wash cloth over my brow before scooping me up and transporting me to the bed. My eyes widen when I clock the headboard. It’s mangled, with strips of wood all splintered and hanging off.
‘In you get.’ He places me on the edge, and I waste no time crawling up and snuggling down, letting out a long, contented sigh.
I turn over and watch him undress, my greedy gaze drinking in his perfection. ‘I can’t believe I’m spending my first night as your wife in one of your torture chambers.’ The unpleasant thought has me shifting slightly and wondering who has been in this bed and what has gone down. Suddenly I want to get out.
‘No one has slept in this bed, Ava.’ He knows what I’m thinking.
I frown. ‘They’ve not?’
He smiles as he shrugs his shirt off. ‘No one has been in this room since I cornered you.’ He’s watching me closely, and my mind reflects back to that day when I found myself trapped and silently willing him on. ‘And the bed is new.’
‘Really?’ I blurt, a little shocked.
He laughs. ‘Really.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m not having you in a bed that others have…’ His frown line surfaces again. ‘frequented.’ he finishes.
‘And no one has been in this room since me?’ I ask.
He kicks his trousers off and draws his boxers down his legs. ‘Only me. Get your underwear off. I want you naked.’
I reach down and push my knickers from my legs. ‘Did you sit in here quietly and think about me?’ I ask on a grin.
He strides over to a unit of drawers and pulls the top one open. ‘More than you know.’ he answers quietly, turning and holding up a bra.
My bra.
‘That’s my bra!’ I blurt. I have a sudden flurry of flashbacks from when he cornered me. I left my bra, and he stored it there all this time?
He chucks it on the top of the drawers and shrugs sheepishly, then paces over to the bed and slips in beside me. I immediately crawl onto his chest and settle myself all over him, my face nuzzling straight into his neck.
‘Comfy?’ he asks.
‘Hmmm.’ I hum, my hands wandering all over the place, needing to feel him and relish in the flesh on flesh contact.
He sat in here quietly and thought of me. He kept my bra. No one has been in here, except me, and he’s replaced the bed.
‘How do you feel?’ he asks, letting me smother him.
‘I’m fine.’ I sigh. I’m fine at the moment, but not for long, no doubt.
He matches my sigh. ‘She’s fine.’ I’m held tighter, his heartbeat thumping against my breastbone. ‘Go to sleep, my beautiful girl.’
And I do. My eyes slowly close and I’m gone.
Chapter 6
I open my eyes and stretch. It’s an over-the-top, noisy, satisfying, completely contented extension of my body all over the bed. Then I smile to myself, listening to him in the bathroom—the sound of the tap jetting out streams of hot water into the tub, him collecting all of the cosmetics he’ll need, and then the unmistakable sound of him swishing the water to instigate some bubbles. My self-professed bath man is keeping to his word. We’re going to have a long soak in the bath and undoubtedly some tub talk whilst we’re there. Do I want tub talk today?
Shuffling myself to the edge of the gigantic bed, I take my naked form over to the suite’s bathroom and lean myself up against the doorframe. He’s sitting on a chair in the window, elbows resting on his knees, looking out across The Manor’s grounds. He’s naked too, every finely tuned muscle protruding from his back and his dark blonde hair damp from the condensation filling the vast space. I could stand all day and watch him, but even from here and with his back to me, I can see the cogs of his mind racing around at a hundred miles per hour. He’s probably thinking about my denial, and he’s undoubtedly thinking about how he can keep me at home. It’s Monday tomorrow, therefore a work day.
