  &quot;You're putting up with so much crap from her and running to LA for all of this,&quot; I retort. &quot;How can she say that you're not invested?&quot;
      &quot;You really want to know?&quot; He looks at me warily. &quot;You never ask about any of this.&quot; He watches me carefully. I bite on my lip, and twirl my hair nervously, everything in me wanting to push this topic away and clamp shut, but the way he's looking at me stills me. He lifts his hand to mine, cupping it slowly and pulls my fingers from my hair with a frown. He keeps my hand in his yet uses his thumb to stroke my cheek.
      &quot;I want to talk to you about this, but not if it's going to upset you.&quot; He finally admits but I stay still, looking intently at him. My heart racing erratically.
      &quot;I need to stop pretending it's not happening.&quot; I finally let out quietly and watch the indecision fli

  Entering the dining room so late in the morning feels like a huge giveaway as to what we've been doing but I'm glad to see it's absolutely deserted. Jake's walking behind me with his hands on my shoulders and is much more relaxed, he's practically horizontal now, his mood is so mellow. I guess finally making me orgasm multiple times has him in a much better mood, all my inner thoughts and emotions no longer a hurdle when he started making love to me again. In fact, his confessions had only made me extra responsive to his touch and barely able to last minutes before the first waves had overtaken me.
      He kisses me on the back of the head before letting go and taking my hand to lead me to a sunny breakfast room laid with bowls and cereal. Almost as soon as we sit a maid comes in bringing us hot plates of pancakes, eggs, sausages, and bacon and a fresh bowl of sliced fruit. He doesn't

  Jake stills over me, bracing himself on his arms, biceps straining impressively. His naked skin has a soft sheen of moisture and is glistening at me from inches above my own nakedness. I'm heated, tingling and tired and yet outraged he has stopped.
      &quot;What's wrong, bambino?&quot; His intense gaze dissecting my face, his breathing rapid. I wriggle impatiently, unimpressed with his sudden halt.
      &quot;Nothing …What are you doing?&quot; I stay nestled in the pillows watching him in confusion. My heart rate still elevated and my breathing shallow.
      &quot;Baby, we have been having sex for the best part of a half hour and I haven't made you cum once … That's unheard of for you … I'm starting to feel a little more than inadequate.&quot; He pulls off me, indicating he's not going to continue.
      &quot;Jake, don't stop … It still feels better than good.&quot; I pout, tryin

&quot;You're putting up with so much crap from her and running to LA for all of this,&quot; I retort. &quot;How can she say that you're not invested?&quot;
      &quot;You really want to know?&quot; He looks at me warily. &quot;You never ask about any of this.&quot; He watches me carefully. I bite on my lip, and twirl my hair nervously, everything in me wanting to push this topic away and clamp shut, but the way he's looking at me stills me. He lifts his hand to mine, cupping it slowly and pulls my fingers from my hair with a frown. He keeps my hand in his yet uses his thumb to stroke my cheek.
      &quot;I want to talk to you about this, but not if it's going to upset you.&quot; He finally admits but I stay still, looking intently at him. My heart racing erratically.
      &quot;I need to stop pretending it's not happening.&quot; I finally let out quietly and watch the indecision flit across his face. He knows I won't lead the conversation, so he volunteers it instead.
      &quo

Chapter 77