Keep Me (24 page)

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Authors: Faith Andrews

Tags: #Contemporary

BOOK: Keep Me
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I lingered in the doorway for affect, but the prickles of pleasure that coursed through my body wanted nothing to do with my silly game. I sauntered over to the bed and stood between his legs as he ogled me.

His hands traced slow, agonizing strokes over my bare skin, his dark eyes imprinting on me. He was being territorial, something that used to scare the crap out of me. Not with Marcus, though. His possession was fueled by want, by need, by passion, not malice, anger, or mistrust. “You went through all this trouble and the packaging is fucking mouthwatering, but I’m gonna rip it off with my teeth and ruin the whole thing.”

I arched back into his strong grip, my breasts perking up to meet his face. “Be my guest.”

Without warning, he whipped me around so my back was against him. His warm breath tickled the nape of my neck as his hands brushed my hair over my shoulder. “We can leave it on a little longer. Just for this.”

For what?
I thought, but didn’t speak. I didn’t need to second-guess this part of us—this part was always perfect.

Twisted together in an embrace, we moved to the side of the bed that was in clear view of the full-length mirror. The image before me was so foreign. Not only because of how different I appeared from the plain person I was used to seeing in my reflection, but because of how Marcus and I looked together. We fit perfectly in each other’s arms, molded together as if we were made for each other. I watched his hands caress my body, gliding over each curve, tracing every line, lingering in places that made my heart stop and set my skin ablaze. He glanced up from my neck and our eyes met in the mirror. His expression was intense as he spoke in a hushed, demanding whisper. “You’re going to watch how crazy it makes me when you explode.”

Again, I said nothing. There was no way to respond to something like that because I was happy to take his lead—the bedroom god himself.

Our eyes remained fixated on each other as his hands did their work. He hooked one finger under the elastic of the garter belt strap and snapped it against my leg. “I love these. Fuck, Tessa, I love—”

His mouth found my skin again, his tongue licking a path from my neck to my shoulder, his hard cock pressing against my back. He didn’t finish his sentence and I didn’t want him to. The heat of a moment like this could make people say things they didn’t really mean. I found myself on the brink of admitting all kinds of crazy things to Marcus in the throes of passion, things that were better left unsaid for now.

I needed to touch him. My hand reached up to fist his hair, but he stopped me. His own hand enveloped mine, weaving our fingers together. Using his hand to guide mine, he splayed my fingers across the exposed flesh of my breast. My body felt as if it were begging to be fondled. His hand encouraged mine to travel lower, grazing aching, taut nipples over the lace. “Feel that? Your beautiful, ready body?”

“Mmmhmmm,” I whimpered. This was slow torture—slow, delicious torture that needed to be over, now. “Please, baby, I want to feel you inside me. Make love to me.” I never referred to it like that with Marcus before, but tonight I was flooded with too many emotions to ignore. Witnessing the two of us together like this made me realize how deep I was falling.

“No.” He finally said, his hands gripping my wrists at my side. I remembered the cab ride and how intensely he kissed me. Tonight wouldn’t be about romance—he had other things to prove. “We can make love any time, like all the other times before. Tonight—tonight I need to claim this body. To make you mine from the inside out.”

I didn’t falter at his admission because I knew now that with every single fragment of my being I wanted to belong to him. It would be easier to show him rather than tell him. It was all about trust—that’s what he was trying to teach me tonight.

Our hands crept lower still and I knew what he wanted me to do. “Watch,” he growled. My body quaked, weak from his words, so I arched against him for support. “Look at me as I make you come,” he said as our hands cupped my sex.

Our eyes met again, in the reflection of the mirror, as he pushed my panties aside and guided our fingers against my throbbing flesh. My body sizzled underneath his gaze; I felt singed by the intensity in his eyes. I bit my lower lip to contain a moan, but it was impossible not to cry out when he thrust a long finger inside. “Let’s do this together, pretty girl. I can come just watching you.”

I wanted to be that girl for him. I wanted to be the woman I saw in the mirror—sexy and confident. And I wanted to witness him unravel because of my pleasure.

Releasing myself from the grip of his hand, I slid my panties lower. Leaning against him for support, I snaked one arm around his neck and pulled his hand around in front of me. The throbbing between my legs was too deep to ignore and I needed him to alleviate my pain. “Touch me, Marcus.” I pleaded as my own hand guided his, rubbing my bare thigh, inching further up toward the center of my pleasure. He nestled one of my own fingers in the moist folds of my flesh, rubbing my clit in circular motions.

“Fuck, baby. You look beautiful.”

His face rested in the crook of my neck, but his eyes were locked on me in the mirror. I focused my attention on our erotic reflection, watching him get me off with soft but powerful strokes. I smiled, so much more than content and he licked his lips, clearly satisfied. His fingers pushed inside me until my legs felt too weak to hold me up.

“Marcus,” I moaned.

His lips curled into a smirk. “Mmmhhhmmm, baby?”

“Please.” I pleaded with him. I needed to feel him rocking in and out of me. I wanted him to fuck me.

“Uh uh, not until you watch yourself. Look at what I do to you. Look at how your body reacts. Feel how good we are together? See it?”

“Yes.” I conceded. There was no denying it.

I watched as he slid his finger in and out of me, spreading me open and then massaging my clit. A rolling wave of ecstasy pierced through me. I never needed a release so badly. My head fell back against his chest as the spiraling heat surged its way through my core, nearly breaking me, but he urged me upright so that our eyes remained locked on each other. “Watch. I want you to see how beautiful you are.”

I erupted with a long moan, exhaling with each vibration of pleasure. His eyes were so dark, his pupils dilated with pure lust. I felt his cock twitching against me, and I wondered if he actually got off from this stunt. He kept our hands in place between my legs and together we felt every last drop of my arousal escape me. It was the most erotic moment of my life. Marcus made me aware of my body in a way I never experienced before. Unashamed to feel, to want, to need this from him. “Take me. Now. I want you so bad, Marcus. That wasn’t enough.”

I spun around and brought my hands up to his stubble-covered face. He pulled the finger he used to pleasure me into his mouth and twirled his tongue around it, sucking. With his free hand he lifted my chin, bringing my eyes to his. “I’ll never get enough of you,” he asserted, easing me down on the bed. “Turn around, pretty girl. I want you from behind.”

He had no intention of making love to me—he was going to fuck me. Fuck me into submission, fuck me into believing there was no way we could ever be apart. A thrill washed over me as I thought about having him all to myself—this hot man, desired by so many—he wanted to be mine and he wanted me to be his.

Facedown on the bed I felt his hands untie the ribbons of the corset until the lace fell from my body, leaving me totally naked except for the stockings. He paused to undress himself; the sound of his zipper coming down thrilled me, my body aching to be filled by him.

“Ass up,” he commanded and I vaguely remembered him saying once how he wanted my ass, too. I wasn’t so sure I could handle something that carnal, not even with Marcus.

“Baby, I—”

“Don’t worry,” he assured me as his hand rubbed the bare, vulnerable skin of my bottom, “I know you’re not ready for that. But one day you’ll trust me completely… to let me do all the things I’ve been dying to do.”

He was right. There was no doubt in my mind that in no time at all I would let him have me, take me, claim me anyway he wanted to. There was no ulterior motive with him—it was all about lust and, dare I say, love. I had no idea this side of Marcus existed. The sex, yeah, he was a pro at that. The love, I knew that was foreign to him. He was doing a hell of a job proving he had a huge heart underneath that rough exterior. All of this went through my head with my ass up in the air and Marcus ready to plunder.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, baby… get on all fours.”

I laughed, even though there was nothing funny about it. From anyone else it would’ve sounded demeaning, but it got me so hot I didn’t even think twice. “Like this?” I teased as I inched my way up and bent my body into a seductive curve.

“Exactly like that,” he growled as I felt his body join mine on the mattress. “I want to watch my dick slide in and out of you. Feel every tight, warm clench of your delicious pussy. And then, when we’re coming together, you’re finally going to admit that… You. Are. Mine.”

Wow!
Like, wow, wow, wow! His words, as gritty and raw as they were, made my heart smile. Was I a sick, twisted person to see past the dirty talk and straight to what was real? “Marcus, I love it when you talk like that.”

“Yeah? Good because I’m going to fuck you, hard. Okay, pretty girl?”

“Are you really asking? What happened to making me yours?”

His hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer to him. He let out a throaty laugh as he skimmed a moist finger from the base of my spine, down the curve of my ass, and around to my clit. My body pulsated between his pinched fingers, and I couldn’t fight the urge to beg, “Marcus, baby, I’m already yours. I have been for a while. I plan to be for a long time.”

A rumbling sound formed in his throat that was barely audible, but I knew what it meant. Now that he had permission, he was taking what belonged to him. The grip around my waist became tighter before he plunged into me. I cried out, ecstatic to finally be relieved of the emptiness.
God, it felt so good.
I slammed against him with each deep thrust. His hands roamed my entire body—my ass, my stomach, my breasts—leaving no skin unchartered. He bent over me, shrouding me with warmth as his fingers rolled my hardened nipples until I screamed. “Oh, God! Oh, God, Marcus!”

His pace quickened, our skin slapping together forcefully. I would let him take control all night if it meant feeling this damn good, but another orgasm was already busting its way to the surface. “Marcus, I’m gonna come again,” I warned.

“I hope you’re not keeping count. I have more for you.”

The word ‘more’ pushed me over the edge—the many meanings, and the way he said it with such determination. I felt him tense inside of me, his thick muscle throbbing with its impending rupture. There was nothing better than coming apart together, completely sated, limbs numbly replete, while still locked together like two perfect puzzle pieces.

“More. Give me more,” I begged. My words compelled him to thrust deeper, pounding harder still, his cock so deep I felt him against my womb. It was a mind-blowingly delicious ache, to know his body could mold mine to fit his. Strong hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my skin. I loved it and he needed to know. “Yes, Marcus. Yes, I’m yours.
Oh, fuck!

“Say it again, Tessa. Say it as you come for me. With me.”

He crashed into me one last time and I lost control. “I’m fucking yours!” I screamed. “Oh my God, Marcus. Thank you for making me yours.”

 

 

It had all changed last night. So much was said in the way we shared our bodies. There was no way I could be without him, regardless of what anyone else thought. I trusted him and I truly believed that we could make it work if we took it slow and played it cool.

“So,” he said while munching on a mouthful of cereal, “which one of us is telling Riley?”

I buckled Luca in his high chair and came around to Marcus, placing my hands on his shoulders. I leaned down to kiss him on his scruffy, beautiful face and said, “I don’t give a shit what she thinks anymore. She’ll get over it.”

“Mmmm, you’re so hot when you’re determined,” he said before sneaking in a kiss. He was always playful, but this was different. He was sitting in my kitchen, on a Saturday morning, eating breakfast with me and my son. Part of me should’ve felt uncomfortable, self-conscious even, to be sharing so many facets of my life with him so quickly. But suddenly it seemed ridiculous to overthink it.

I sat back down in the chair next to Luca to finish feeding him his breakfast of bananas and oatmeal. I felt Marcus watching me as I went about my morning routine. As comfortable as we were, I wondered what he really thought about the scenario. Regardless of the connection, why would any twenty-four-year-old want to date someone with a baby?

“So,” he interrupted my worrying, “I was thinking since the Fourth falls on a Friday, maybe we can convince Gary to let you take the day on Thursday, then head up to the lake house together. The three of us.”

The three of us.
Oh my God. Did he really just say that? I tried my best to contain my giddy grin, but failed miserably. “If he doesn’t give me the whole day, I know we’ll get out early, but I still don’t think we should drive up together.”

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