Page 47 of Insta-Love

He chuckles against my sex, breath hot through the barrier of my dampened bikini briefs. Thank fuck I didn’t wear my comfy full-cut ones. I would die, seriously die, if he saw those.

His teeth nip at my folds through the cotton—I see starts. Literal stars in my vision I close my eyes so hard.

Keep it together, Ava. Act sexy. What the fuck is sexy? What the hell do I do to make this mumsy body everything he’s ever wanted? Here I am, with a man who’s chiselled perfection could do no wrong, and what am I in comparison.

Stop it. Stop it.

Enjoy this. Enjoy the way his thick fingers tug your underwear off. Enjoy the growl he just gave before his mouth hit your pussy again.

Fuck my life—this man is a God.

“You taste so goddamn good,” he mumbles against my core.

I shiver as his tongue runs a path straight up the centre. He sets both hands on my inner thighs, fingers pressed hard into my less than toned muscle, and shoves my legs wider.

Breathe through it. The exquisite rush created by his skilled tongue soon washes the searing pain of my over-extended hips away. I moan without a goddamn care in the world how I sound as he feasts on what I have to offer.

Which apparently is a lot.

“So fucking wet,” he appraises as he pulls back to explore with his fingertip.

I grind into him, urging him to sink that thick digit inside. He seems to twig onto what I want, grinning as he removes his touch from the part of me that aches for it most.

“I really want to take my time with you—”

“I don’t.” I press up on my elbows, gaze hooded as I marvel again at the man before me. “I’m not the kind of girl you have to work on, Bowen. If I’m into you, I’m into you. You don’t have to sweet talk me with your hands, although I did enjoy what you were doing with your mouth.”

The look on his face is nothing short of pure shock. He chuckles, eyes wide. “Is that so?”

“Nothing but the truth.”

He crawls over top of me, forcing me to lie down once more. “Does that mean no flowers on our anniversary?”

He thinks that far ahead? “Sure does.”

He steals a chaste kiss. “No jewellery on your birthday?”

“I won’t say no,” I tease, “but I also won’t be offended if you have a cosy night in with me instead.”

“Low maintenance, huh?”

“Worried about the things that actually matter, I would say.”

He runs his nose along my jaw, finishing with a nip to my ear before he whispers, “Like what?”

“Connections. Love.”

He pulls back, clearly considering what I’ve said.

“Can you give me that?” I ask. “Can you promise to stick around, even in the rough times?”

“I don’t quit on people, Ava.”

“That’s all I want to know.”

He steals my next breath, his kiss consuming as his rough hand skates a path up my side. I shove at his shorts, surprised to find he’s completely bare underneath.

Bowen doesn’t lie when he says he’ll be rough. We’re nothing but a tangle of limbs, and bruising hands, as he moves me around the bed how he wants to. I feel owned. Utterly and wholly possessed, and as he flips me to my hands and knees, I can’t say that I don’t like it.

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