‘Deal.’ I agree, but he better be set for some hard action. I’m not feeling like fucking softly.

My attention moves to the concierge desk when Jesse stops abruptly and his eyes widen.

My eyes widen slightly, too. Standing behind the desk with a phone to his ear is a man—and it’s not Clive. It most certainly is not Clive. I purse my lips and grin to myself. Oh, this is going to provoke some serious possessive, trampling-like behaviour. I remain silent as I assess the situation. It doesn’t take much assessing, though. Jesse is standing in the middle of the foyer, the new concierge is still speaking on the phone, and they are both staring at each other. The new concierge’s eyes fall on me, and I almost laugh when I hear a growl emanate from Jesse. Oh good Lord, this poor man is going to get trampled to within an inch of his life. I firm up my grip on Jesse’s shoulders and wait for him to take the initiative and walk on, but he’s rooted to the spot.

‘Where’s Clive?’ he asks the new guy, disregarding his phone conversation. I wriggle a little to try and free myself, but Jesse just flips me a glare and tightens his hold. ‘Stay where you are, lady.’

‘You’re behaving like a caveman.’

‘Shut up, Ava.’ He returns burning greens of displeasure back to the poor, young concierge, who has since ended his call. ‘Clive.’ Jesse prompts shortly.

The new concierge steps out from behind the desk, and I can’t help it when my eyes naturally run the full length of him. He’s cute. His blonde hair is neatly trimmed, his brown eyes are happy, and his tall frame is lean. He’s nowhere near Jesse’s league, but he’s still a bloke and that makes him a threat—in Jesse’s world.

‘I’ll be working alongside Clive, sir. I was supposed to start my new position some time ago,’ he says warily. ‘Personal reasons delayed the commencement of my employment here.’ He walks forward and puts his hand out to Jesse. ‘I’m Casey, sir. I look forward to assisting you with anything you may… well, need assistance with.’ He shifts awkwardly.

I wriggle again to free myself, feeling like a complete idiot locked in my possessive Lord’s grasp while the new concierge introduces himself. He seems sweet and sincere enough, but Jesse isn’t letting me go.

‘Mr Ward.’ Jesse says shortly, ignoring Casey’s outstretched hand.

‘Nice to meet you, Casey.’ I put my hand out to him, but Jesse steps back. Oh for the love of God! I look at him, noting his eyes planted firmly on the young man in front of us. He’s being ridiculous. I force myself from his grip with some effort and step forward, offering my hand again. ‘Welcome to Lusso, Casey.’ I smile, and he takes my hand, shaking it mildly. The poor guy won’t come back if I don’t intervene. Clive has been here non-stop since the residents moved in. He’s no spring chicken. He needs the relief.

‘Thank you, Ava. Nice to meet you, too.’ He smiles, and it’s a cute smile, but I don’t miss the cautious look that he directs over my shoulder. ‘Oh, you’re in the penthouse?’

‘Yes, that’s us.’

‘Maintenance called to say your new front door has arrived from Italy.’

‘That’s great, thank you. ‘

‘Have maintenance fit it without delay.’ Jesse snorts.

‘Already done, sir.’ Casey smiles proudly, grabbing some keys from his desk and holding them up.’

Jesse swipes them from the poor guy’s hand before virtually throwing his car keys at him. ‘Bring the cases up.’ I’m pulled towards the elevator in an amused daze, and as I knew I would be, I’m pushed inside and then up against the mirrored wall. ‘He fancies you.’ Jessee growls.

‘You think everyone fancies me.’

‘That is because they do. But you’re mine.’ He slams his lips to mine and takes me fiercely, pushing me up the wall with the pressure of his body. I’m delighted. This is not gentle Jesse. This is powerful, forceful, dominant Jesse, and I’m bracing myself for a fuck to make up for all the ones I’ve been missing out on. I throw my arms around his shoulders and tackle him with as much force—probably more.

‘I’m yours.’ I pant between hard lashes of his tongue.

‘You don’t need to reassure me.’ His hand feels up my leg and cups me harshly, triggering hot wetness to invade me and an excited thud to attack my core. I really need this. His finger slips past the seam of my lace. ‘Wet.’ he purrs into my mouth. ‘Just for me. Understand?’

‘I understand.’ My muscles grip his finger as he enters me. ‘More.’ I beg unashamedly. I need more.

He separates our mouths and withdraws his finger, re-entering with two. ‘Like that?’ He pushes hard and high. ‘Like that, Ava?’

My head falls back against the mirror, my mouth gaped, my eyes closed. ‘Just like that.’

‘Or would you prefer my cock slamming into you?’ His voice is carnal and a massive surprise, given his delicate approach to my body in recent weeks. If this is the effect that Casey will have on my Lord, then I hope he stays forever. I’m being claimed and reminded of who I belong to—not that I ever need a reminder, but I’ll always take it. I drop my head and find his greens, then reach forward and slip the buttons of his fly free, before sliding my hand into his boxers and wrapping my palm around his hot, throbbing cock. He pulls in a short breath. ‘You haven’t answered my question.’

‘I want this.’ I squeeze his base and draw a long stroke to the tip. ‘I want you inside me.’

He sweeps one last circle with his fingers before removing them and lifting me to his body, my legs wrapping around his waist, my hands seeking out his nape. ‘I knew you were a sensible girl.’ The elevator doors open, I’m carried out into the penthouse foyer, where the door is opened without delay, and we’re quickly on our way upstairs to the master suite. ‘You make me a desperate fucking mess, Ava.’ I’m placed on the edge of the bed and my dress is pulled up over my head quickly before he yanks his t-shirt off, kicks his Converse to the side and pushes his jeans down his legs, taking his white boxers with them. He really is desperate, and I’m all the more delighted for it. He’s going to fuck me.

I’m pushed back onto the bed and my knickers are pulled down my legs, my bra disposed of just as quickly. He’s working fast, but it’s still not quick enough. My impatience is my undoing—that and his glorious nakedness looming over me. I need to touch him. I sit up and slide my hands around his solid arse and pull him forward so he’s standing between my spread thighs, his lower stomach at my eyelevel. Placing my lips gently in his abdomen, I trail kisses across to his scar, but it doesn’t make me wince anymore. It’s a massive imperfection, a mar on his beautiful body, but it just makes him all the more perfect to me. My perfect imperfect Adonis. My God. My husband.

I feel his fingers thread through my hair, and my eyes creep up the firmness of his abs, then his chest, until I’m staring into green eyes filled with… love. Not hunger or carnal want—it’s love.

He’s not going to fuck me, he’s going to make sweet love, and he does it so well, but I’m desperate for his ferocity, desperate for him to stop treating me like I’m breakable. My hands flow back down his torso until my palms are resting on the edges of his perfect V. I lean in and kiss his stomach again before working my way up, standing as I go until I’m feeling his neck out and pulling him down to meet my lips. I lift myself gracefully to his body and link my legs around his waist, feeling his arm snake around me, holding me to him as he accepts my demand for mouth contact.