59. Marlowe
When I knock on Brendan’s office door, his face is a picture.
I watch with delight as his expression goes from shocked to downright feral.
His eyes skim over my face and drop down, down, down.
This dress is made from silk in a soft blush colour, with a swooshy skirt that ends just above my knees.
It’s one of my favourites from the selection Brendan bought for me at the start of the summer.
I think he likes what he sees.
Then again, he’s seen me at my most exhausted and crusty over the past few weeks, so the bar, I suspect, is low for the poor guy.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asks, sounding not the slightest bit displeased.
I shrug. ‘Tabby got off to school fine this morning, so I thought I’d come in and make myself useful.’
‘You don’t have to, you know.’
He pushes his chair back from his desk.
‘You should have just taken the day for yourself. God knows you could have done with a break.’
He’s ridiculous.
He pays me to do a job and I’m only doing around a quarter of it at the moment, between the enforced celibacy and a sick little girl.
‘I had other ideas about how I wanted to spend it.’ I turn and lock the door before sashaying over to him.
His hungry eyes track my every step.
I stop in front of him, looking down at this beautiful man of mine, this man who is every bit as flawed as the rest of us but who has shown up for me and Tabs, over and over, in every possible way, with frankly very little from me by way of reassurance.
He may have taken things from me this summer, but God knows I’ve taken from him in a way that I haven’t allowed myself to do with anyone else aside from my parents.
I haven’t even allowed myself to lean on Athena as much as I’d like to over the past few years.
But Brendan has been there for me the whole time: this big, gorgeous, steadfast rock.
He’s held me and comforted me and fed me; he’s sent me packing when I’ve needed a break; he’s showered my little girl with attention and compassion.
Above all, he’s been the respite we’ve both needed, the person through this entire shit show who’s been able to retain their sense of humour and hold onto their perspective.
I honestly don’t know if I would have survived without him.
I can’t bear to think about how it would have been without him.
And through it all, he’s asked for nothing.
Nothing . Everything he’s given us, he’s given it freely.
No agenda. And definitely no recompense.
So now it’s time to thank him.
To tell him how I feel.
To show him how I feel.
He stares up at me with those big blue eyes.
‘You look so beautiful,’ he stammers.
‘I mean, you always look beautiful, but…’
‘Thank you,’ I whisper.
I lay a hand on one broad shoulder for balance and swing my leg over so I can straddle him.
As I lower myself down on him, my skirt flowing around me, the disbelief on his face grows.
He looks like all his Christmases have come at once, poor guy.
He bands an arm around my waist while his other hand slides through my hair to find the back of my neck as if in a dream.
‘What are you doing?’
I pause, gazing down at him.
My fingertips skate over the dark, neatly trimmed beard I adore so much.
‘Showing you how much I appreciate you.’ I swallow.
‘Showing you how much I love you.’
He stills beneath me.
His mouth opens, but no words come out.
‘I love you,’ I repeat, growing teary.
‘And I’ll never, ever be able to thank you for the way you’ve looked after me and Tabs.’
A pause. ‘And I miss you.’
I know he’ll get my meaning.
I mean it how he meant it when he said it in his parents’ garden.
‘I miss you too,’ he whispers.
‘I love you too. And you don’t ever have to thank me.
I did it because I love you.
Both of you.’ His fingers drift absently through my hair, setting off a trail of goosebumps over my neck.
His eyes are almost all pupil now, and they’re astonishing.
‘I think I’ve been in love with you since that very first time I laid eyes on you at the RA.
I’ve never had that reaction to a woman.
Never. And it’s just got stronger and stronger since then, sweetheart.’
I believe him. He may have had a funny way of showing it at times, but I believe that he loves me.
I believed it when he told me in that waiting room, too.
And I can’t wait a second longer.
I dip my head and I kiss his lovely mouth, and oh my God, the second my lips touch his, the second my chin brushes against his soft beard, I’m spinning, soaring through the air, because I missed this so much.
He’s provided me with so much physical comfort during Tabs’ medical marathon, but nothing beats this .
The drag of my lips against his.
The satisfaction of him opening for me.
The filthy slide of his tongue into my mouth as he gets the memo that I want this.
I need this.
I shunt myself further forward and hit a serious bulge as he drags his hand lower and grabs my bottom, tugging me more closely against him.
I moan into his mouth and claw at his short, silky hair with one hand as I let the other roam over his bicep.
His shoulder. He’s so much , and I am fucking starving .
‘Did you come here to tell me you loved me or to get railed, love?’ he rasps in the low, dirty voice of a man rapidly losing control.
‘Both,’ I admit, grinding against him.
Definitely both.
‘Fuck.’
We’re groping each other like horny teenagers, and it’s amazing.
I frantically undo the top few buttons of his shirt so I can slide my hand in and remind myself how fucking fantastic his pecs feel.
Then I’m pulling on the concealed zip down the side of my dress so I can tug it off.
It lands in a silky pile somewhere off to the left, leaving me straddling Brendan in nothing but heels and white lace lingerie.
‘Jesus,’ he says, leaning back so he can take me in, his jaw flexing as he smooths his warm palms down the sides of my body.
His eyes meet mine. ‘I’m speechless, sweetheart.
Just speechless.’
A wave of intense frustration crashes over me.
We had it so good before—on the physical side, I mean.
Given everything that went down, I know we needed to halt our sexual relationship while we worked on everything else.
These past few weeks have been a time of healing for me and Brendan as much as for Tabs.
Still.
A girl has needs, and it’s been way too fucking long.
We’ve wasted quite enough time.
I grind my lace-covered pussy against his trouser bulge again and pull at his hair.
‘I need you inside me yesterday. I need you to fuck me, Bren.’
He chuckles, and it gives me pause.
I stare at him. The Brendan Sullivan I know and love does not turn down a practically naked woman straddling him at his desk.
‘What?’
‘Remember your first audition?’ His hands move languorously over my skin.
He seems to be in far less of a hurry than I am.
I smile down at him.
‘Yeah.’
‘You were so shy. So nervous.’ He swallows, his face growing serious.
‘And now, of course, I know exactly why you were so nervous. Because you were practically a born-again virgin, showing up to fuck some rando to save your little girl.’
‘I was,’ I concede, ‘but I loved every second of that evening, honey, in case you didn’t notice.’
‘I did notice.’ He drags his hands lower, over my spread thighs.
‘I was just thinking how far you’d come from then.’
I grin at him. ‘You mean by marching in here and straddling you and stripping?’
‘Basically, yes.’
‘You said in your questionnaire that you liked the whole innocent thing,’ I say haltingly.
‘Do you think you can handle this?’
‘The woman I love showing up and telling me what she needs? Yeah, I can handle it. This confidence of yours is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.’
We smile at each other dreamily.
He did this.
He gave me this gift of sexual confidence.
‘It’s quite fun being in charge for once,’ I muse.
‘Look who’s calling the shots now.’
‘If you’re going to treat me like your little office fuck toy, you should know I can get on board with that,’ he tells me.
Fuck, he’s sexy with his shirt half undone and his hair messed up and that cricket bat in his pants.
I run a fingertip down the exposed skin of his chest. Now, there’s an idea.
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
I sigh for effect.
‘I could use a few orgasms. It’s been a stressful few weeks.’
His grin is filthy.
‘Then use me.’
It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.
‘Okay… then take off my bra. My nipples need some love. They’re so achy.’
They really are—tiny, aching nubs that require some serious attention.
‘Done.’ A quick one-handed snap behind me and the bra falls away from my body.
‘You’re way too good at that.’
‘Well, I am a professional.’ He looks far too pleased with himself.
‘Then what are you waiting for?’ I demand.
He shakes his head with pride.
‘Fuck me, you’re cocky.’
Then that same dark head is dipping to my left breast so he can suck one greedy nipple into his mouth.
His pull is strong, the shot of arousal instantaneous.
‘Oh my God oh my God,’ I chant as he finds my right nipple with his fingers and pinches it hard.
I grind against him, shoving my breast into his mouth, desperate for as much sensation as I can chase.
Jesus Christ, I’ve missed this.
Missed Brendan’s dangerous mouth and skilful fingers.
I luxuriate in the unearthly pleasure of writhing in his lap as he tends to me.
‘I need your fingers,’ I gasp as the devilish things he’s doing to my breasts threaten to undo me.
‘And your dick.’
He pops off my breast with an agonised groan and comes up for a hard kiss, his ravenous tongue devouring my mouth, his hand sliding down over my stomach like an obedient little fuck toy, fingertips brushing the thin lace strip covering my outrageously needy pussy only to stop dead.
He pulls away from the kiss, and I freeze.
‘Bren? What’s wrong?’
His mouth twists in distress.
He meets my eyes hesitantly.
‘Last time I tried to pull this stunt, I?—’
Oh shit.
He’s thinking back to that moment in that lunch meeting, the one I’ve tried my hardest to bury.
‘Jesus, this is nothing like that,’ I tell him.
‘I didn’t even make the connection.’
‘I did, though. I’m not sure I’ve earned this.’
He looks so devastated that I cup his cheek, stroking the soft hair of his beard.
I attempt to focus on the issue at hand and not on my screaming, weeping pussy.
‘Honey, listen to me. You have earned this with every single hour you’ve spent by a hospital bed, these past few weeks.
You’ve earned all of it.’
I drop my voice to a whisper.
‘It’s just you and me here, doing what we do best. I want this.
I want all of you, and I promise when you touch me down there, you’ll see exactly how much I want it.’
‘I can’t get rid of the memories, though,’ he says, shaking his head as if hoping that’ll loosen them.
‘The things I did to you that week, the way I acted—it makes me sick to my stomach.’
‘There are a lot of memories from the past couple of months that I wish I could erase forever,’ I tell him now.
‘Believe me. But they’re behind us, and we’ve both grown.’
I look into his beautiful blue eyes, as tortured as they are aroused.
‘I love you,’ I whisper.
‘I trust you. I know that if I tell you to stop, you will always, always stop. But you promised me once that if I begged you not to stop, you wouldn’t.
So please, don’t stop, because I need you.’
Slowly, so slowly, he hooks his fingers into my thong and drags it to one side.
I shiver at the fleeting brush of his touch where I need it.
Then he holds my gaze as he slides a couple of fingers through my wetness and pushes them deep inside me.
He keeps me in place with a hand clamped around the back of my neck.
‘I love you so much,’ he rasps.
‘If you need me, I won’t stop, I promise.’
I let my head fall back as he finger-fucks me good and hard, my body noisily sucking him in each time.
But it’s when he presses his thumb to my clit, exactly where I need, that I spiral heavenward.
It’s been too long, and I’m so in love with him, and he’s too good at this, and I don’t want to be strong or self-controlled; I just want this first orgasm to zip through me like the life force that it is.
I want it to consume every cell in my body.
‘Harder,’ I beg. ‘Harder, please.’
And my beautiful man obliges.
His thumb rubs decadent circles over me as his fingers thrust as deep as possible.
I arch back, taking it, taking every last, filthy ounce of this pleasure he’s giving me, I douse myself in it like a rag soaked with lighter fuel.
And I allow it to set me on fire.
I come so hard on and around Brendan’s fingers that I have to squeeze my eyes shut against the black voids where my peripheral vision should be.
Sight is overrated, anyway, because the only thing that matters is this feeling, this astonishing pleasure whose flames are licking at every last inch of my body, inside and out.
I ride his hand so damn hard I’ll probably dislocate the poor guy’s fingers.
As my orgasm floats away and I open my eyes, Brendan’s face is a picture.
Never have I seen a man look more awe-filled.
‘Take me out,’ he says, and I oblige, harnessing whatever shambolic remnants are left of my fine motor skills to undo the rest of his shirt buttons and fumble with his belt buckle and get his trousers open.
His dick, huge and angry and weeping precum, is making a break for freedom over the waistband of his boxer briefs when I unearth it.
Honestly, my main coping mechanism these past few weeks has been studiously not thinking about what Brendan’s packing, but holy fuck.
The damn thing is even bigger than I remembered.
brENDAN
‘Wait,’ I bark gruffly, attempting to reach past Marlowe to my desk drawer so I can grab a condom.
I’ve scooted my chair back too far, and I can’t—quite—reach?—
She stops me with a hand on my arm.
‘No.’
‘No?’ I stare up at her stupidly.
Her nakedness, and gorgeousness, and declaration of love, and her orgasm , that fucking orgasm , have all addled my brain to the point that I’m officially more chimp than man right now.
Has she changed her mind, or…
‘No condom,’ she says.
Her face is flushed, her eyes are still glassy, that blonde hair of hers is tumbling over her spectacular tits, and I’ve never in my pathetic life seen anything so perfect.
And—no—she wants to?—
‘I had a coil put in when I started working for you.’ She smiles at me, but it’s not the smile of bashful disbelief she used to give me after I made her come in the early days.
This one is powerful.
Knowing. Like she’s fully aware of how much this revelation will slay me.
‘I don’t want anything between us.’
She wants me to go bare.
That she trusts me with this after all my fuckwittery is almost too much for my heart to handle.
She knows I didn’t do anything with Fernanda.
She knows I went to Alchemy but didn’t— couldn’t, if we’re being technical—do anything.
She’s aware of it all.
I divulged every pathetic detail to her one night in the US.
An unsheathed dick as a clean slate.
This is—this is the ultimate gesture of trust. It’s the mother of all invitations, and my dick twitches at the thought.
‘I’ll make it worth your while,’ I tell her, and she presses her forehead to mine as she rears up in my lap.
She takes my dick in a strong grip and slides it through her soaking cunt.
So confident. My girl knows exactly what she wants.
That it’s me she wants is the greatest privilege of my life.
She feels incredible.
She feels like home, and I can’t wait to get inside her.
‘Put me in, love,’ I grit out, gripping her waist with both hands in an attempt to regain some kind of control, because she’s taking too long.
She straightens up and smiles at me as she operates me like a joystick, directing me to exactly where she needs me.
As she lowers herself down and takes the first inch, we both hiss with the pleasure of it.
‘Fuck,’ I groan. ‘Not sure how long I’ll last.’
‘If you come before me, I’ll need a refund,’ she says sweetly.
Despite my physical anguish, I throw my head back and laugh.
‘Touché, sweetheart. Sex work’s a tough gig, isn’t it?’
‘You bet your life it is.’ She lowers herself down another inch and I groan.
‘I could die a happy man right now.’
‘You’re not allowed to die.
I love you far too much.’
‘I’m not going anywhere.
I promise.’
She pushes all the way down onto me.
This feeling of bottoming out so deep inside her is so sublime, so otherworldly, that it is literally melting my brain.
She does a little shimmy of her hips, and I utter a shaky groan.
I simply won’t survive this.
‘Give me a sec,’ I beg her, and she stills.
We gaze at each other, finally joined in that unique way I took so much for granted in our early days together and at which I now marvel, because there is nothing on earth like this.
I stare into her huge brown eyes, so close to mine, so full of love and desire.
In their depths, I see my entire future.
My happiness.
My life’s meaning.
My children.
‘You can move now, love,’ I tell her hoarsely.
‘Fuck me. Use me. I’m yours to do whatever you like with.’
She cups my jaw with both hands and watches my reaction as she drags herself up my dick.
‘Say that again.’
My voice breaks with emotion.
‘I’m good for absolutely nothing in this life but making you happy.
Nothing. So let me do that for you. Because I’m yours.’