‘It’s not lace, is it?’ he muses, catching me gawking at a bright yellow miniskirt, with metal spikes protruding from the hem line.
‘Lace, it’s not,’ I agree. It’s hideous. ‘Do people wear this stuff?’
He laughs, nodding at a group of people, who look like they might pass out with excitement. They must have a million piercings between them. He leads me through the maze of corridors. I’m completely engrossed by my surroundings. This is serious clubbing attire for the hardcore clubber.
We wander around the metal maze of steel corridors and down some more stairs, finding ourselves closed in on every angle by…sex toys. I cringe. The music is louder and absolutely vulgar. I gape as I listen to some demented woman screaming about sucking cock on the dance floor, while a leather clad dominatrix type grinds her crotch up and down a black metal pole. I’m not a prude, but this is way past my comprehension. Okay, we’re in the adults department, and I’m feeling extremely uncomfortable. I look, very nervously, up at Jesse.
His eyes are twinkling, his expression displaying an abundance of amusement. ‘Shocked?’ he asks.
‘-ish,’ I admit. It’s not so much the merchandise – it’s the pierced, tattooed, virtually naked bird in the corner, wearing eight inch platforms and performing some highly illicit moves. That’s what’s got me scooping my tongue up from the floor.
Holy fucking shit! Does Jesse go for all this shit?
‘It’s a bit over the top, isn’t it?’ he muses, pulling me over to a glass cabinet. I exhale a sigh of relief at his statement.
‘Wow!’ I blurt, coming face to face with a huge, diamante embellished vibrator.
‘Don’t get excited,’ Jesse whispers in my ear. ‘You don’t need one of those. ’
I gasp, and he laughs lightly in my ear. ‘I don’t know. It looks like it could be fun. ’ I respond, thoughtfully.
It’s him that lets out a shocked gasp this time. ‘Ava, I’ll die before you use one of those. ’ He flashes the offending object a disgusted look. ‘I’m not sharing you with anyone or anything,’ He pulls me away. ‘Even battery operated devices. ’
I laugh. He would trample a vibrator? His unreasonableness is off the scales. He looks down at me, giving me his roguish grin. I melt.
‘I might stretch to some handcuffs, though. ’ he adds quietly.
Oh? Handcuffs? ‘This doesn’t turn you on, does it?’ I gesture around the room before tilting my head up to him.
He looks at me with warm eyes, pulling me closer into his side to drop a tender kiss on my forehead. ‘There’s only one thing in this world that turns me on. And I love her in lace. ’
I melt with relief and turn my eyes up to the man I love so much it hurts. ‘Take me home. ’
He gives me a half smile, landing a worshipful kiss on my lips. ‘Are you making demands?’ he asks against my lips.
‘Yes. You’ve not been inside me for too long. It’s not acceptable. ’
He pulls back and watches me carefully, cogs flying, teeth chomping. ‘You’re right, it’s not acceptable. ’ He resumes chomp and re-focuses his attention ahead of us, leading me out of the dungeon and back to his car.
Chapter 34
We burst through the door of the penthouse in a tangled embrace. I’ve waited all day for this. I’m about to explode with lust. I need him all over me, right now.
He removes my bag from my shoulder, throwing it to the floor and grabs me around my waist so I straddle his hips. He walks us into the kitchen, flicks a few buttons on the remote control and my ears are soon flooded with Placebo’s Running up that Hill. This only serves to spike my desperation for him more. He’s a man of his word.
‘I want you in bed. ’ he says urgently as he takes the stairs at an alarming rate.
I kick my ballet pumps off on the way up, in an attempt to reduce the time constraints of undressing when we get upstairs. The door to the master suite is kicked open, and I’m placed on my feet at the end of the bed.
‘Turn around. ’ he
says softly. I oblige, giving him access to the back of my dress. ‘Please tell me that you have lace on,’ he pleads, unbuttoning my dress. ‘I need you in lace. ’
‘I have lace on. ’ I confirm quietly. I wear nothing but these days. I hear him exhale a long, satisfied breath as he pulls my dress over my head and let’s it fall to the floor.
I turn back around to face him, finding a lax mouth and hooded eyes. He’s as desperate as I am. He reaches forward, slowly pulling down a cup on my bra, brushing his knuckles over my nipple. My heart starts a relentless sprit in my chest. He’s in gentle mode – I love gentle Jesse.
I watch him reach over his back and grasp his t-shirt, pulling it forward over his head. The leanness of him will never cease to have me panting. There’s not a scrap of fat on him.