Chapter Sixteen
Wren
I’ve never been kissed like this.
I’m already in a daze from Marcus’s declaration that he thinks we’re soul mates. But now he kisses me until my head is spinning and I’m finding it hard to breathe.
Suddenly, he bends, slides an arm beneath my knees, and lifts me into his arms. I squeal, sure he’s going to drop me, but he just laughs, carries me to the bed, and tosses me onto it. I bounce, breathless, then move up as he peels back the duvet to let me slide underneath.
I lie back on the pillows, watching as he unzips his jeans and slides them down his legs.
Ohhh… it’s been a long time since I saw him at the beach.
He’s lost that awkward, slender look he had as a teen, and he’s filled out and become quite a man, with broad, muscular shoulders, a flat stomach, and powerful thighs.
Wow.
He tosses his jeans aside unceremoniously.
Wearing only his black boxer-briefs, he gets something out of his case and puts it on the bedside table—it’s a small washbag.
Condoms? I go to remind him we don’t need them, but my words disappear as he climbs onto the bed.
Sliding under the duvet, he pulls it up over us, then grabs me and rolls so I’m on top of him.
Laughing, I look down into his cognac-colored eyes. I’m half lying on him, and I can feel his erection long and hard against my hip. His hair is ruffled and sticking up at the front. My heart races as I think of his joyful expression when he turned and saw me standing there in my underwear.
I know he thought I might still back out of this marriage. But although love might not come with a guarantee, if I want a baby, I have to take the first step.
He places both hands on my shoulder blades, then draws them slowly down my back, his fingers brushing the satin of the bodysuit, making me tingle. I shiver, my nipples tightening, and I know he’s felt them too because his eyes narrow and his lips curve up.
I kiss him, loving the feel of his mouth, his firm, dry lips, and the way his tongue plays with mine. He continues to stroke my back, brushing down to my hips and over my ass, where his fingers tighten on the muscles before returning all the way up my spine.
I keep expecting him to speed things up, but he continues to kiss me for ages, his fingers gliding over me, exploring all my dips and curves.
His light touch makes hairs rise all over me, and by the time he finally strokes his hands up my ribs to the side of my breasts, I’m aching for him to touch them.
Still, he draws out the moment, stroking down my ribs and up, then beneath them and up again, following the lace of the cups and the swell of each breast. By the time I feel the first brush of his thumbs over my nipples, I’m so keyed up that I gasp, lifting my head to look at him.
He watches me as he teases the end of each nipple with the pad of his thumb before lightly taking them between his thumb and forefinger and squeezing, ever so gently.
I groan and close my eyes, and so he does it again, a little firmer this time, and then a third time, causing me to drop my forehead onto his shoulder with a moan.
“Babe,” he says, his voice a throaty purr. “Time to take off that beautiful lingerie.”
My pulse picks up speed, but I push myself upright so I’m sitting astride him, lower a hand to undo the fasteners beneath the bodysuit, and then peel it up and over my head, leaving my garter belt and stockings on.
I toss the bodysuit onto the carpet, then automatically cross my arms over my breasts, shielding them from his gaze.
He chuckles, takes my hands in his, and lifts his arms above his head, drawing mine with them. It forces me to lean over him, and as I do, he covers one of my nipples with his mouth.
Mmm… I bite my bottom lip as he teases the tip with his tongue before sucking gently.
I love how tender and gentle he is, and I murmur my approval.
I’m sitting astride him, and I can feel his erection beneath me.
It’s impossible not to rock my hips, and I exhale at the sensation of him pressing against my clit.
It’s his turn to purr, and we stay like that for a while, him teasing my nipples until they’re wet and hard, me rocking slowly on top of him, arousing myself, with him occasionally giving slow thrusts to match my movements.
Ohhh… I’ve never made love like this before, so slowly and sensually, drawing out every moment.
Before it’s been so quick, five minutes of kissing and then straight into intercourse, and I can’t understand why none of my partners has ever wanted to do this.
I suppose for them it was always about the destination, but Marcus is all about the journey, and I’m more than happy to let him show me this new adventure.
I want to kiss him again, so I move down and press my lips to his. He lets me, for a while, but then tightens his arms around me, and before I can prepare myself he rolls me onto my back, so now he’s half on top of me.
Now my hands are free, I’m able to touch him at last. As he kisses me again, I run my hands up his arms, over his shoulders, and down his back, exploring all his muscles.
He’s so firm and hard, such a contrast to my curves and soft body.
I like that. I like our differences—the first sign of bristle on his jaw.
His Adam’s apple. The width of his shoulders.
How he’s heavy on top of me, pressing me into the mattress. The hair on his chest and thighs.
I run hot, he told me when he gave me his jacket at the masquerade, and his skin is warmer than mine, and deeply tanned against my pale arms and body.
He kisses my face, around to my ear, and down my throat, his tongue pausing where my pulse beats, and he sucks lightly.
I shudder, and he growls, deep in his throat.
For the first time, he slides a hand down my body, over my stomach, between my legs.
I’m bare except for a narrow strip. He sighs as he explores, then moves his fingers down.
“Aaahhh…” He exhales, his pupils dilating. Then, to my surprise, he takes my hand in his and moves it where he’s just been, sliding my fingers down. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he murmurs. I’m swollen and slippery, and as my fingers brush over my clit, I twitch and gasp.
He laughs and releases my hand, then kisses me as he slips his own fingers down into me, circling the pad of his forefinger over my clit and teasing it while he delves his tongue into my mouth.
I moan against his lips, my heart thudding relentlessly against my ribs.
Surely he’ll take us to the next level soon? I’m readier than I’ve ever been.
But then, lifting his head, he looks into my eyes and says, “Will you let me taste you?”
I blink. “Ohhh…” I swallow hard, then nod.
His eyes glitter. “Good girl.” He lifts up and moves over me, and begins to kiss down my body, pulling the duvet over his head.
I lift my arms up onto the pillows, turning my head to look hazily out of the window as he kisses my belly and shifts between my legs.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. The afternoon sun has flooded the room, and it’s warm, sultry, and quiet.
I feel incredibly content, and also filled with excitement.
My eyes close lazily as Marcus settles on the bed, and he slides his arms under my thighs and rests his hands on my belly, kissing the bare patch below it. I can’t believe he really wants to do this. He exhales, his hot breath whispering over my sensitive skin, and I groan.
“Stop squirming,” he scolds from beneath the covers.
“You’re making me ache.”
“That’s the idea.” He kisses between my legs, and then before I can prepare myself, he slides his tongue down into me.
I gasp, my body jerking, but he grips me tightly by the hips, not letting me move, and doesn’t stop. My eyes fly open, and I stare up at the ceiling, my mouth opening, but finding no words as he licks and sucks.
Oh my God… I didn’t realize… how amazing… this would feel…
His tongue is warm and wet as it slides and licks. I feel him shift and move one hand beneath me, and then his fingers join with his tongue, helping him gain access to my clit. Then he turns his hand palm up and explores further down, sliding one, then two fingers inside me.
“That feels so good,” I say, adding a moan for emphasis.
His mouth is busy, so he rubs my thighs as he continues, and I close my eyes again, drifting away on a sea of bliss as he teases me further and further toward the edge of pleasure.
I must have died somewhere along the way, and this is heaven.
If it isn’t, and if you can’t have this in heaven, I don’t want to go.
“This?” he asks, flicking his tongue over my clit. “Or this?” He gives it a long, slick lick.
“Ohhh… the second one…”
After a while, I begin to tense, everything focusing on the spot where he’s now giving me repeated long, slow licks. Oh my God, I think I’m going to come.
Just as I feel the orgasm approach, though, he stops and lifts up. I blink and watch him toss off the duvet and then rid himself of his boxer-briefs, and then he moves between my legs again, pushing up my knees.
He leans over to retrieve the washbag on the bedside table. “Sorry, babe,” he says, obviously spotting my flushed face, “but I want to watch you come this first time.”
“I don’t think we need condoms,” I remind him as he unzips the bags.
He just smiles, takes out a tube, and shows it to me before he flips open the top. He squeezes lube onto his fingers, then puts the bag and tube back onto the bedside table.
“Just want to make sure,” he says. “You’re very tight, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Ohhh…” I watch him lubricate himself, and then he strokes the remainder between my legs. He guides the tip of his erection down, presses into me a fraction, then looks back up, bracing his hands either side of my shoulders.