Page 46 of This Woman Forever

I have nothing to say to that. So I double down on my knob-ish, arrogant behavior. “Shut up, Ava,” I say, making her eyebrows arch in disbelief. She looks like she’s going to slap me. I hope she waits until we’re in private. “Clive?” I ask again, returning my scowling face to my issue. Where the fuck is the old goat who’s been bleeding me dry of cash since I moved in? I like the old boy. We have an understanding. An agreement.

His call now ended, the imposter walks out from behind the desk, and I instinctively peek out the corner of my eye to Ava. Is she checking him out? With a poorly concealed grin on her face?

“I’ll be working alongside Clive, sir,” he says. I flip my wife a scowl she can’t appreciate because she’s too busy taking in the new concierge. “I was supposed to start my new position some time ago. Personal reasons delayed the commencement of my employment here.” Personal? What, like he had to finish school? “I’m Casey, sir.” He comes at me with his hand offered. “I look forward to assisting you with anything you may... well”—he smiles, awkward—“need assistance with.”

There is nothing in this world that this kid could help me with.

The kid that looks about the same age as your wife?

“Mr. Ward,” I tell him, ignoring Ava trying to get herself on her feet again and ignoring the new concierge’s hand, because mine are currently busy locking down their hold. I hear her huff. She can huff all she likes. This pubescent thing has the hots for my wife. It’s written all over his face.

“Nice to meet you, Casey,” Ava says, chirpy and upbeat. Oh? So she’s happy? I see her hand come up in front of us. I step back. I didn’t tell my feet to move. They just... did. I can feel her incredulous stare on my profile. I hope she’s thinking about how handsome her husband is as she drills holes into me. How talented he is in the bedroom. How much he loves her. How?—

Ava’s suddenly out of my arms and in front of the concierge, giving him her hand. Take it, you die, kid. Stupid fuck takes it. “Welcome to Lusso,” she chirps.

“Thank you, Ava,” he says, flicking a wary look my way. I narrow my eyes further. Ava? That’s very bold. I’m about to give him a lesson in appropriate ways to address residents, but he goes on. “Nice to meet you too. You’re in the penthouse?”

“Yes,” Ava says. “That’s us.”

Us. Husband and wife. Possessive husband and wife.

“Maintenance called to say your new front door has arrived from Italy,” he says.

“That’s great, thank you.”

Am I supposed to just stand here like a spare part while my wife and the concierge have a nice old natter? “Have maintenance fit it without delay,” I snap.

“Already done, sir.” He dangles a pair of keys, and I snatch them, chucking him my car keys before claiming my wife and escorting her to the elevator. “Bring the cases up,” I order as I hit the call button, peeking down at Ava. She’s amused. Good for her. I’m not. And is she forgetting that she is quite the pro at this trampling business too?

The doors open, I get Ava inside, and I don’t wait for them to close before I pounce. She was expecting this. Probably hoping for this. I love nothing more than showing my wife who has the power. “He fancies you,” I whisper, pressing my body into hers, feeling her torso sink with her inhale. Isn’t that just wonderful? No matter how much she anticipates me, calls for me, braces herself for me, she can never control her reactions.

“You think everyone fancies me.”

“That’s because they do,” I whisper, hearing the doors close as I fight my compulsion to push her to her knees and make her apologize for laughing at me. Can’t do that, she might throw up, and I absolutely need us connected on a physical level right now. We haven’t had sex for nearly thirty-six hours. We’ll talk after. “But you’re mine.” I kiss her harder than I mean to, and she welcomes my force with a telling, whimpering moan and by grabbing me, pulling me closer.

“I’m yours,” she vows, going at me, starved.

“You don’t need to reassure me.” I slip my hand under her dress and, I swear, feel her throbbing against my palm as her tongue hardens, fighting with mine. Everything hard. I push my finger into her knickers. Inhale at the hot, wet feel of her flesh. “Wet.” So fucking drenched, just like that. One kiss, one touch, she’s mine. “Just for me. Understand?”

“I understand,” she gasps, her walls sucking me in deeper. “More.”

Breaking our kiss, I lean into her, watching her eyes darken by the second. I pull my finger out and add another, my lips parting as I push them into her, and she breathes in, staring into my eyes. “Like that?” I whisper, watching her taking it, struggling to keep her head up, struggling to speak. “Like that, Ava?”

“Just like that.”

Fuck, I could watch her all day as I fuck her with my fingers. “Or would you prefer my cock slamming into you?” Passion and possessiveness are ruling me. I can’t stop this, the familiar feelings of power overcoming me, the need inside to prove to Ava and myself that I can be the best lover, take her to the clouds, keep her addiction alive and feed it. She swallows as I massage her, her hands moving to my jeans as her gaze drops. Lusty, heavy eyes. Eyes that are so expressive. Eyes that remind me of the first time she succumbed to our chemistry. I saw it back then. The struggle she was having to resist me.

We stare at each other as she undoes my fly and slides her hand into my boxers, claiming me. I bite down on my teeth. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“I want this,” she whispers, rubbing over my shaft slowly. “I want you inside me.”

My groan is suppressed as I pick her up, and she wraps every limb around me. “I knew you were a sensible girl.” I can feel the pressure inside building as I carry her out of the elevator and get us inside.

Straight up the stairs.

Straight into the bedroom.

“You make me a desperate fucking mess, Ava.” Straight on the bed.

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