Page 50 of This Woman Forever

I slam into her over and over, her screams fueling me, her body now limp. Over and over, I chase the end, feeling it teasing me, the pressure stuck, waiting to burst out, needing just a little more encouragement while holding me in that constant, divine state of torture. “Come on,” I grate, dripping wet, adjusting my hands on her thighs, trying in vain to hold on. “Come on!”

Fuck.

I’m losing my grip, my pace, the pressure subsiding. I pull her away from the wall and take her into the bedroom, my mind as frenzied as my body. I throw her onto the bed and flip her onto her knees. The moment I have her arse in my sights, I’m back to where I need to be, on the cusp.

I slide into her on a frenzied yell, dropping my head back, gathering myself but unable to stop my body from doing what it needs to do.

“Jesse,” she yells.

I blink and look down at her, seeing her hands bunched in the sheets. “You wanted it, Ava,” I grate.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

“Don’t fucking complain.” What, it’s too hard for her now? She’s had enough of what she’s been begging for?

“Harder,” she counters, pushing back onto me.

I bark her name in warning, holding her still, watching as her arms begin to shake where they’re braced into the mattress. Here comes number three. And along with a few more smashes of our bodies, it’s the push I need to carry me over the edge.

She screams, her throat hoarse, I bellow, the sound animalistic, and I explode, harder than I’ve ever known myself to come in my life. I can’t see. I’m struggling to breathe. My body is shaking as I spill myself into her, dropping to the bed on top of her, crushing her to the mattress.

Beat.

In more than one way.

“Thank you.”

And she thanks me for fucking her like an animal. Thanks me for losing my control.

I slowly peel myself away from her, staring down at her delicate body. And then down at my big, powerful frame. I’m shaking. She can sustain my force, my dominance, my needs.

But a baby?

Fuck.

Ava’s body is rolling as she gasps for oxygen.

Oxygen that our child needs.

And I’ve stolen it.

I shake my head, my thoughts all over the place. I took what I needed. Lost my reason. Lost my mind.

And the guilt that’s just slammed into me hurts. It hurts so bad.

I’m not gasping for air anymore because I’m depleted.

I’m panting because... remorse.

I get up and walk on unstable legs to the bathroom, my head in my hands. How did I allow that to happen? The relief was short-lived, as I always knew it would be, which is why I’ve abstained. Fuck.

I sit on the edge of the bath, looking at my hands, turning them over as they tremble. She asked me why I wanted soft and slow. I didn’t answer. I could have. I should have. “God damn it,” I breathe. God damn me. God damn us.

Enough.

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