Chapter 35 #2
“I want you to know two things,” he rasps, his gaze turbulent. “The first one is that I will never do anything—anything—you don’t want me to do.”
He means it with every fiber of his big, muscled being. I see the steady resolve in his eyes. The steel of an oath.
I touch his cheek and whisper my own truth back to him. “I knew that even before you said it.”
A flare flashes in his eyes, leaving them even more intense as he grabs the hand touching his face and presses it into his skin, as if he can imprint me on his cheek.
“The second thing,” he roughs out, “is that I have never been on my knees for another woman.”
I balk slightly. “Ever? You’ve never…” I don’t know if I should feel relieved or apprehensive.
But Marco shakes his head. “I have. But never on my knees. I’ve never…” He blows out a breath. “I’ve never wanted to kneel for anyone but you.”
The depth of that simple statement strikes me like a blow. Marco isn’t loud or domineering, but he conducts himself with dignity. The unmistakable air of a proud man. The fact that he wants to lower himself for me—even figuratively—stuns me speechless.
I can barely agree, moving my head in a couple of stiff nods before slowly shifting my legs out from under me. Marco keeps his gaze trained on mine but drops his hands to smooth over the silk covering my hips.
I remember that I don’t have any panties underneath the same second his fingers skirt the hem of the robe.
“This looks exquisite on you,” he rumbles, turning his attention back to my body.
“I’m buying you at least two more to keep here.
” He tugs on the sash and stares as the fabric parts, heat simmering in his eyes. “Make that three.”
His large hands feel deliciously calloused as they skim over my naked sides. So good that I forget to suck in my stomach and sit as straight as possible. When I scramble to correct my stance, Marco suddenly stops touching me.
Without missing a beat, he pushes to his feet and scoops me up. I squeal, but he just presses a kiss to my forehead, carting me toward the bed.
“I want you to relax,” he says, gently setting me down before resuming his position on the floor. “Lie back if you want to.”
I think about his view, wincing. “But my—” I swallow my words, not exactly keen to point out any flaws he hasn’t noticed yet.
Something glimmers in his gaze. He drops a hand to his cock and pulls back to stroke it from his place between my knees. “Do I need to give you another demonstration of how much I want you? Because I will.”
My mouth falls open while I watch him fist the thick length in a series of hard, fast strokes. Color floods my cheeks, but I can’t look away.
“When I think about putting my mouth on your pussy,” he growls, tugging at his dick faster. “It makes me so hard, it hurts.”
Sure enough, his erection jumps against his palm, the head so dark and swollen it almost looks purple.
As if he isn’t torturing himself with his right hand, the left skates a leisurely path from the base of my throat to my belly button, gently pushing the robe open further. He hisses. “Fuck, you look so hot.”
I don’t know if I believe him, but I’m officially too turned on to care. Watching him touch himself has me desperate. I rub my own palms over my thighs before I even realize what I’m doing.
A spark lights his gaze while he tracks the movement. His fist slows and then stops. He leans forward, planting his hands on either side of my hips and dropping a kiss to my mound, lingering just long enough to murmur, “Good girl,” before trailing his lips lower.
I gasp and jump, my body already straining to get his mouth closer to my core. His lips curve into a smile while they skim my slick, parted lips.
There, he stops, breathing hard against me for a long moment. Only, it doesn’t feel like hesitation. More like he’s run some sort of horrible marathon and finally crossed the finish line.
And I’m his prize.
“Here, sweet girl.” His brawny hands slide under the robe as he grips my hips. Without any more words, he arranges me just the way he wants me, pulling my lower half to the edge of the bed and moving back to give himself the proper angle.
I watch, fascinated. Not knowing what to expect, since I’ve never really let myself imagine experiencing such a thing before.
As if reading my thoughts one last time, Marco pauses before he bends over my lap and shoots me the world’s most handsome grin.
Victory shines in his smile, like this really is some priceless honor.
Then he grabs my hand, kisses the knuckles, and drops it on the back of his head.
Why would I need my hand on his—
“Oh!”
There isn’t a word to describe the sound that flies out of me as Marco opens his lips over my center. His tongue follows, licking a straight line to my core before slipping up to nudge my clit.
Oh. My. God.
The part of my brain that hasn’t melted figures out that he’s moving slowly on purpose, mapping me out as he goes. When he traces the bottom of my clit a second time, and my hips buck, he hums and wraps his tongue around the same spot, sucking lightly.
I cry out, and he groans, the sound appreciative. “You taste so good. So sweet. I knew you would,” he mutters, working his way back down to my entrance. “My sweet girl.”
I whimper while he works his tongue into me, thrusting in shallow flicks and deeper licks until I keen, my fingers tangling in his thick black hair.
There’s a throbbing place inside of me that he almost reaches with his tongue, but not quite.
Just when I think I’ll go mad, he licks up to my clit and slides one of his fingers into me.
“Marco!”
He rubs the perfect patch along my inner wall, stroking over it again and again while I moan. “Is that it?” he rumbles against me. “Is that our spot, baby?”
Our spot. The words alone nearly make me come. Then he seals his lips around my clit and sucks, lashing at me with his tongue while his finger pumps over the secret place inside.
My body twists off the bed. I come, whimpering his name and soaking his face. Marco groans so loud, I think he’s coming, too.
“You’re going to ruin me,” he pants, lapping up all the ecstasy pouring out of me. “I’ll be on my knees for you every goddamn night. I don’t want to fucking stop.”
So he doesn’t. He stays there, gently working me over with soft sucks and fluttering licks until a second orgasm rolls through me. This time, the pleasure feels deeper, cascading out from my core. Smooth, slow, and golden, like honey in my veins.
He finally straightens, swiping his palm over his face. I start to reach for him, my hands shaking visibly when I lift them to his cheeks. Marco catches my fingers instead, holding them against the nape of his neck while he leans forward and nestles his cheek against mine.
I close my eyes, grateful he can’t see me as I gather my courage and push out my request. “Fill me up.”
He kisses me slowly, pressing his lips to my temple, my cheekbone, the place under my ear.
“Yes.”