7. Lainey
SEVEN
LAINEY
Marcus’s hand is warm and firm around mine as he leads me into his bedroom.
His room is exactly what I expected and yet not at all.
The walls are rough wood, and there’s a massive bed in the center covered in a dark blue quilt. A simple dresser sits against one wall, a pair of boots kicked off haphazardly beside it. It’s all so... him. Rugged, practical, no frills. But there’s also a warmth to it, something that makes me feel like I could belong here, even if just for tonight.
“You okay?” Marcus asks.
His voice is low and gravelly, and it does things to me—things I’m still getting used to.
He’s standing close, so close I can feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint scent of pine and leather that clings to his skin. It’s intoxicating, and I nod quickly, maybe too quickly, because his lips curve just the slightest bit.
“Yeah,” I say, glancing at the bed. “Just taking it all in.”
It’s impossible not to imagine what’s about to happen there. I’ve never done this before, and the thought of doing it with Marcus is equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. He’s older and experienced, and I can’t help but wonder if he’ll think I’m too young, too naive.
He chuckles softly. “Yeah. Me too.”
And then he’s kissing me again.
I melt into him instantly, my hands coming up to tangle in his hair as he pulls me flush against his body. He tastes like whiskey and mint, a heady combination that makes my head spin. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, and I let out a small moan, pressing closer.
But as his hands start to roam, skimming over my sides and dipping beneath the hem of my shirt, a sudden wave of panic crashes over me.
“Wait,” I gasp out. “I... I need to tell you something.”
Marcus stills. “What’s wrong?”
I swallow hard.
“Um, nothing’s wrong exactly.“ I take in a shaky breath. “It’s just that I’ve never done this before. I’m a virgin.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Not even with Axel?”
“No.” I drop my gaze to his chest, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. “We fooled around a little, but we had been friends for so long it was always a little awkward. We never, you know, went all the way.”
“Do you want to?”
“Do I want to what?”
“Go all the way.”
“Yes,” I whisper, my voice shaking slightly. “But I don’t know if I’ll be able to.”
“Have you ever had an orgasm before?”
I shake my head, feeling vulnerable and exposed under his penetrating gaze.
“I’ve tried to make myself come on my own,” I admit quietly. “But I’m always so tired and stressed. I can never quite get there.”
Something flares in Marcus’s eyes.
“Lay back on the bed, baby. Spread your legs for me, baby.”
My heart pounds as I do as he says.
I sink onto the soft quilt and let my thighs fall open. I’m acutely aware of how exposed I am like this, wearing nothing but his shirt and my damp panties. But there’s no judgment in Marcus’s eyes as he looks at me. Only appreciation and a heat that makes my core throb.
He kneels between my legs, his big hands sliding up my thighs, pushing the shirt out of the way. I tremble under his touch, equal parts nervous and aroused. When his fingers hook into the sides of my panties, I lift my hips automatically, letting him drag them down and off.
“I’m going to make you come, Lainey,” Marcus says. “The only rule is that I get to put my mouth and hands anywhere I want. Is that okay with you?”
Heat flares low in my belly.
“Anywhere?”
“Anywhere. On your pretty tits, your tight little ass...” His hand skims up my inner thigh. “And this sweet, virgin pussy. You’re going to let me lick it and suck it and fuck it with my tongue until you scream. Got it?”
My head spins with the filthy promises spilling from his lips.
“Yes. I’ve got it.”
A low growl rumbles in Marcus’s chest and then he’s spreading me open with his thumbs, exposing my most intimate parts to his hungry gaze.
“Look at you,” he murmurs appreciatively. “So pretty and pink. I bet you taste like heaven.”
Before I can even process his words, he lowers his head and flicks his tongue over my clit.
I cry out at the foreign sensation, my hips bucking up involuntarily. But Marcus just hums in approval and does it again.
“Don’t fight it, baby,” Marcus murmurs against my sex. “Let this pussy clench for me.”
His tongue swirls around my clit again, and my thighs tremble, my hands fisting in the sheets.
It’s almost too much, the intensity of what he’s making me feel. I’ve never experienced anything like this before.
“That’s it,” he encourages. “Grind on my face. Use my mouth to make yourself feel good.”
I rock my hips, gasping as his tongue drags through my slit. The rough stubble on his jaw scrapes deliciously against my inner thighs and I do it again, harder this time.
“Fuck, just like that,” Marcus groans. The vibrations send sparks of pleasure zinging through me. “Don’t hold back. I want you to come all over my tongue.”
His filthy words spur me on, and I give myself over to the sensations, rolling my hips in earnest now, chasing the release I’ve always been denied. Marcus matches my rhythm, his lips and tongue working me mercilessly, driving me higher and higher until I’m balanced on a razor’s edge, my entire body pulled taut.
“Marcus,” I pant, my voice high and needy. “I’m going to?—”
“Let go,” he commands, thrusting his tongue inside me. “Come for me, Lainey. Now.”
And just like that, I shatter.
My orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, intense and all-consuming. I cry out as I pulse around his tongue, my back arching off the bed, fingernails digging crescents into his shoulders. Wave after wave of ecstasy rolls through me, leaving me boneless and trembling in its wake.
Marcus works me through it, his touch gentling as I slowly float back down. He presses soft kisses to my inner thighs, my hips, my stomach, each one a soothing balm on my electrified skin.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs, crawling up my body to hover over me. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
I blink up at him dazedly, my brain still foggy with pleasure. “Really?”
“Really,” he confirms, nuzzling into my neck. “From the moment I first saw you, I knew I had to have you. Had to taste you.”
He punctuates his words with a nip to my throat, and desire throbs through me anew, my over-sensitized flesh clenching around nothing.
“Please,” I whimper, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him closer. I can feel the thick ridge of his erection pressing insistently against my thigh, and I want nothing more than to have him inside me. “I need you.”
Marcus groans, rocking his hips into mine, the thick length of him sliding through my slickness.
“I need you too, Lainey. So fucking much. Can I fuck you bare, baby? I want to feel all of you tonight. And I don’t want anything between us.”
“Yes, you can fuck me bare, Marcus. I want to feel you.”
He captures my lips in a searing kiss as he reaches between us, positioning himself at my entrance. I tense instinctively, my body unused to the intrusion, but Marcus just strokes my hair, murmuring soothingly against my mouth.
“Relax, baby. It may hurt for just a second, but then it’s going to feel amazing. I promise.”
I force myself to exhale, willing my muscles to unclench.
Marcus pushes forward slowly, the blunt head of his cock stretching me open inch by delicious inch. There’s a brief flash of discomfort as he breaches my barrier, but it’s quickly replaced by a feeling of fullness, of rightness, as he sinks deep.
“Oh my gosh,” I whimper, my nails digging into his shoulders.
I’ve never felt so full, so complete. It’s overwhelming in the best possible way.
Marcus stills once he’s fully seated, giving me a moment to adjust.
“You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Taking me so well. You feel incredible.”
I can only moan in response, lost to the new sensations bombarding my body. Every nerve ending feels electrified like I might fly apart at the seams.
Slowly, Marcus starts to move, withdrawing almost completely before sliding back in, setting a steady rhythm that has me seeing stars. I wrap my legs around his waist, locking my ankles at the small of his back, needing him deeper, harder, more.
“Fuck, Lainey,” Marcus grits out. His thrusts are more forceful now, the slap of skin on skin echoing obscenely through the room. “So tight. So perfect.”
My head thrashes on the pillow as he pounds into me, hitting places I didn’t even know existed. It’s raw and primal and everything I never knew I needed. I feel owned, claimed, like he’s branding me from the inside out.
As Marcus picks up the pace, I find myself marveling at the sheer insanity of the situation.
I’m in bed with Marcus Ruins, my ex-boyfriend’s dad, a man nearly twice my age. He’s inside me, moving over me, making me feel things I never knew were possible.
It’s wrong on so many levels, and yet it feels more right than anything I’ve ever done.
“Look at me,” Marcus commands, his voice rough with exertion. “Keep your eyes on me.”
I obey, locking my gaze with his, and the intensity in his amber eyes steals my breath.
He’s not just fucking my body, he’s pounding into my very soul, branding himself on my heart. In this moment, I’m his completely.
“You’re mine,” he growls, punctuating each word with deep thrusts. “Say it, Lainey. Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” I gasp out, the words ripped from my throat. “Only yours, Marcus. ”
Something fierce and possessive flares in his eyes at my declaration. His hand snakes between our sweat-slicked bodies, finding my clit and rubbing in tight, focused circles. I keen at the added stimulation, my inner muscles fluttering around his pistoning length.
His words, his touch, it’s all too much.
The coil in my belly winds tighter and tighter, my pleasure cresting to an impossible peak. Marcus seems to sense how close I am because he redoubles his efforts, his hips snapping against mine in a relentless rhythm.
“Come for me, Lainey,” he demands, his voice strained with his own impending release. “I want to feel you come apart on my cock.”
It’s all the permission I need.
With a shattered cry, I let go, my orgasm slamming into me with the force of a freight train. I convulse around him, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing over me, dragging me under.
Through the haze of my climax, I feel Marcus swell inside me, his thrusts becoming erratic. He buries himself to the hilt with a guttural groan, his cock pulsing as he empties himself deep inside me.
The feel of his hot seed flooding my womb prolongs my own pleasure, aftershocks rippling through me until we’re both spent and trembling.
Marcus collapses on top of me, his weight a welcome anchor as I float back down to earth. We lay there for a long moment, chests heaving, hearts pounding in sync.
Eventually, he rolls to the side, pulling me with him so we’re face to face, our limbs still entwined.
“That was...” I trail off, struggling to find a word that adequately describes the magnitude of what just transpired between us.
“Incredible,” Marcus finishes for me, brushing a sweaty strand of hair off my forehead. “You’re incredible, Lainey.”
I duck my head, suddenly shy under the intensity of his gaze. “I didn’t really do anything.”
“Are you kidding?” He tips my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. There’s a tenderness there that takes my breath away, a vulnerability I’ve never seen in him before. “You trusted me. You gave yourself to me completely. That’s everything.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “For being so patient, so gentle. For making my first time...perfect.”
“You deserve nothing less, sweetheart. I’m just glad I could be the one to give it to you.”
We trade lazy kisses as our heart rates slow, basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking. I’ve never felt so sated, so cherished, so utterly content.
Marcus’s shirt lies discarded on the floor where he tossed it earlier, and now I can’t stop staring at the artwork decorating his chest and arms. In the soft glow of his bedside lamp, the tattoos draw mysterious shadows across his skin.
I’ve noticed them before, of course - it’s impossible not to when his forearms are on display in those rolled-up flannel sleeves. But this is the first time I’ve had the chance to really look at them up close.
“I love all of your tattoos.” I trace my finger along a coiled rope design near his collarbone. “You have so many.”
He catches my wandering hand in his much larger one, but doesn’t move it away. Just holds it there against his skin.
“Most of them are from my Marine days.”
“Like this one?” I tap the intricate emblem on his bicep.
“MARSOC. First Marine Special Operations Battalion.” His thumb strokes absent patterns on my captured hand. “Got it after qualifying. Though the guys would’ve made my life hell if I hadn’t.”
I smile at the hint of humor in his voice. “Peer pressure via tattoo gun?”
“Something like that.”
He shifts slightly, and I worry I’ve pushed too far, but then he points to another mark on his chest, a string of numbers and letters I don’t understand.
“This one’s from my first deployment. Unit designation. I was eighteen when I enlisted. Straight out of high school in Bozeman.” His jaw tightens. “Young and stupid, thinking I had everything figured out.”
I think about myself at eighteen, still living at home, helping Dad at the diner. The biggest decision I had to make was which college to attend.
“That must have been intense.”
“Wasn’t all bad.” But there’s something in his voice that makes me look up. His eyes are distant, focused on something I can’t see. “Made some good friends. Learned who I was. Who I wanted to be.”
“What made you finally decide to leave?”
“It was time.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Then, right after I got out, Axel had that car accident senior year.”
My stomach tightens as I remember that terrifying night.
“So that’s why you moved here.”
“Yeah. Needed to be closer. Try to...” He trails off, jaw working. “Do better.”
“What happened with you and Axel’s mom?” I ask softly. “He never told me.”
Marcus is silent for so long that I think he won’t answer. His hand continues its gentle movement on mine.
Finally, he says, “Axel’s mom, Sophia, and I grew up together in Bozeman. She was different back then. We both were.”
I stay quiet, giving him space to continue.
“Found out she was pregnant right before my first deployment. We were just kids ourselves. Barely even old enough to drink. I told her I’d marry her, take care of them both.” He lets out a long breath. “She said she needed time to think about it. Then my orders came through.”
“You didn’t hear from her?”
“Radio silence for almost two years. Then I get this letter.” His voice roughens. “She’d married Victor Martinelli six months after I deployed. Axel was walking, talking... calling Victor ‘dad.’”
“That’s awful.”
My heart aches for him, for the young Marine who must have felt his world collapse with that letter.
“Victor had connections and money. Could give them both the kind of life I couldn’t.” His thumb traces circles on my skin. “She’d already registered Axel with his last name. Had him in private preschool. The whole nine yards.”
“What did you do?”
“What could I do? I was deployed thousands of miles away.” He shakes his head. “She had full custody. Victor’s lawyers made sure of that. I got supervised visits twice a month when my leave aligned with their schedule.”
The bitterness in his voice makes me press closer.
“But you kept trying.”
“Yeah. Kept trying. Kept fucking up.” He shifts, adjusting me against his chest. “Missed his first day of school because of training. Missed his little league games because of deployments. Every time I’d come back, he’d be different. Bigger. Further away.”
“That wasn’t your fault,” I say softly.
“Maybe not. But it was my reality.” His hand moves to stroke my hair. “We talk now. Have dinner sometimes. But there’s always this... distance. Like we’re both trying to figure out who we’re supposed to be to each other.”
Anxiety twists in my stomach. “He’s going to lose his mind if he ever finds out about this. About us.”
Marcus tilts my chin up, making me meet his eyes. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure it out.” His thumb brushes my lower lip. “Besides, Axel’s an adult. He’ll deal.”
I curl closer, taking comfort in his warmth.
“I just care about both of you. I don’t want to make things harder between you.”
Marcus looks at me then, really looks at me, and something in his expression makes my heart skip.
“I like that about you.”
“What?”
“The way you care so much about other people. Not halfway, not carefully. Just all in. Even when they don’t deserve it.”
“You deserve it.”
He chuckles. “Even though I kidnapped you?”
I giggle. “Especially because you kidnapped me.”
And then he’s kissing me, deep and tender, and I forget everything else except the feel of him, the warmth of his skin under my hands, and the way my heart feels too big for my chest.
When we finally break apart, he rests his forehead against mine.
“We should get some sleep,” he murmurs, pulling the blanket up over us.
I curl closer, fitting myself against him like I belong there. His arms tighten around me as I drift off, feeling safer than I have in years.