Chapter 5
E mma
Marcus hangs up my last T-shirt—I only brought four, one for each day of the trip—and turns around to face me.
His expression is impassive, but there’s no hiding the savage heat in his piercing blue eyes as they rake over me from head to toe.
I swallow as my body reacts in an instant, my heartbeat speeding up and my nipples tightening in the confines of my bra.
My panties are still damp from making out outside, and that look is all it takes for arousal to flood my core.
This is going to be even harder than I thought. Literally, because I can see the growing bulge in his jeans. A big, thick bulge that—
Ugh, stop it, Emma. Yanking my mind out of the X-rated gutter, I call forth every ounce of my fury and advance into the room. “You broke your promise. You said you’d keep your mouth shut and—”
“I never said that.” His eyes narrow. “I said I ‘got it’—as in, I understood what you wanted me to do. I never promised to do it, though.”
My molars clench so hard I’ll have a toothache tomorrow. “Stop splitting hairs. You knew what I thought, and you played me. I told you what you had to do to stay, and you did the exact opposite. You lied to my grandparents—”
“Did I?” He folds his arms across his chest, causing his shirt to outline the impressively defined muscles underneath. “What did I say that was untruthful?”
“You said I’m moving in with you!” I almost shout the words, but at the last moment, I remember where we are and lower my voice to a whisper-hiss. “That is a complete lie, and you—”
“Oh, but you are. You just haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.”
I stare at him, taken aback by the unshakeable certainty in his voice. Is he delusional, or just that used to getting his way? Has no woman ever told him no?
Wait a minute.
Is that why he’s here?
Because I rejected him and became a challenge once again?
I wondered about that when he disappeared earlier this week—whether that’s what my appeal to him had been all along.
I doubt many women have sent him away in recent years, but that’s exactly what I did the night he broke down the door in my apartment.
Of course, less than two weeks later, I caved and we had that amazing weekend together.
A weekend during which I ceased to be a challenge.
Is that it? Is that what all of this is about?
I told him no once again?
If so, he didn’t lie about wanting me instead of Emmeline. He does want me, and he will until I give in—at which point he’ll lose interest, like he did this weekend.
And this time, he might disappear for good.
My anger fades, replaced by a squeezing ache in my chest, and I turn away, my eyes stinging anew.
I can’t do this. Not even for my grandparents.
I have to put a stop to this charade.
Steeling myself, I step toward the door—only to stop when big, warm hands land on my shoulders.
Gently, he pulls me toward him, molding my back against the hard planes of his body. “Come to bed, kitten,” he murmurs in my ear, his deep, velvety voice caressing me like a touch. “It’s late, and we’ve both had a long day. We’ll sort it all out tomorrow, I promise.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to keep the stinging tears in. My treacherous heart is beating much too fast at his nearness, my body turning boneless and languid. His masculine scent surrounds me, a familiar mixture of pine and fresh breeze, and his erection is thick and hard against my lower back.
He wants me.
He definitely wants me.
And God help me, I want him too.
“Emma.” His voice lowers another octave. “Look at me.”
He could turn me around easily, but he doesn’t. His powerful hands rest on my shoulders, unmoving, and I know he’s leaving it up to me.
Look or don’t look.
Stay or go.
I can walk out of this room, tell my grandparents the truth, and end this insanity right now.
I can salvage what remains of my heart.
Except… he did come all the way here. Would a man do that just because a woman he was losing interest in decided not to see him?
Private plane or not, it’s a two-plus-hour flight and time out of his busy schedule.
Even chasing me down at the airport seems like a lot of effort if I’m nothing more than an amusing challenge.
Is it possible?
Could he have truly meant some of the things he said?
Does he want me to move in out of something more than logistical considerations?
My feet seem to reach a decision before my brain does, and I turn around, tipping my head back to meet his gaze.
For a second, we just stare at each other, our bodies so close we’re nearly touching. His hands are still on top of my shoulders, the heat from his palms seeping into me, warming me down to my toes. I can see the primal hunger in his eyes, but underneath, there’s something softer, gentler.
Something that makes my chest ache in an entirely different way.
“Emma.” He tenderly cups my jaw. “Give this—us—another chance.”
I draw in an unsteady breath, my heart thudding in my ribcage.
A chance.
He’s asking for a chance.
Another chance for him to hurt me.
Or maybe, just maybe, to find out if this could be real.
“I’m still not…” I lick my dry lips. “This doesn’t mean I’m moving in with you.”
Something hot and dark blazes in the cool depths of his eyes before he veils the expression. “Understood,” he says roughly, and before I can clarify what he means, he dips his head and covers my lips with his.
My mouth opens on a startled gasp, and his tongue invades with unapologetic fierceness as he maneuvers us toward the bed, yanking off our clothes on the way.
Gone is the tender man who would’ve let me walk out of the room, and I realize he was never there in the first place.
It was always this ruthless conqueror, a savage determined to consume me.
The real Marcus Carelli.
As our clothes hit the floor, his hands skate over my curves with possessive greed, his palms hot and rough on my bare skin, and I respond with the same dark fervor, my hurt and anger transforming into blinding lust. It feels like mere seconds before we end up fully naked on the bed, with him on top of me and my wrists pinned to the bed next to my shoulders as he devours my mouth, swallowing my panting breaths.
His large, hard-muscled body is warm and heavy over me, his cock smooth and hard against my inner thigh as he wedges his knees between my legs, opening them wide.
His mouth moves over to nibble on my earlobe, then trails down my neck, sucking and biting, and I feel like I’m burning, like I might combust from the dizzying need.
By the time he reaches my breasts, my entire body is covered with delicious goosebumps, and I’m so turned on I feel the slickness on my thighs.
“Please,” I moan as his hot, wet mouth clamps over my peaked nipple, sucking on it with a strong pull.
“Please, oh please, Marcus, just… Oh God, yes, right there.” My eyes squeeze shut, my hips lifting off the bed as he releases my wrists and moves one hand down to my aching clit, manipulating it with unerring skill.
Freed, my hands fall to my sides, only to spasmodically fist the blanket as the tension inside me coils unbearably, the pleasure spiking in a dark crescendo.
I’m almost there, almost at the peak, when the fingers withdraw and his lips return to mine, stifling my moans. Kissing me deeply, he guides his cock to my entrance and slowly, ever so slowly, presses in.
He’s big—God, I almost forgot how big he is—and despite the abundant slickness, there’s an almost painful stretch as he sinks into me, penetrating me with exquisite gentleness.
My hands fly up to grip his sides, my muscles tensing as the stretch threatens to turn into a burn.
I can feel every thick inch of him, and my body quivers with the effort to accept him.
At the same time, his kisses are driving me wild, his tongue tangling with mine with a sensual ferocity that only emphasizes the care he’s taking by entering me so slowly.
Finally, he’s all the way in, his balls pressing against my bottom, and as he pushes up onto his elbows to gaze down at me, I see that his face is sheened with sweat, his hard jaw tense.
“You okay?” he asks raggedly, and I nod, unable to speak.
He’s so deep in me I feel as if we’re one, as if something more than our bodies is joined together.
With his face mere inches away and his blue eyes locked on mine, the intimacy is almost unbearable.
This is more than great sex, and the realization terrifies me.
“Good,” he breathes, and holding my gaze, he begins to move inside me.
At first, his thrusts are carefully controlled, but as my body adjusts to him, he picks up the pace, going deeper and harder with each stroke.
His powerful obliques flex in my grip, and the heated tension coils in me again, my arousal spiraling higher with each stroke.
With a cry, I come, shattering around him, but he doesn’t slow down, doesn’t stop, and the second orgasm builds before the aftershocks from the first fade.
He’s now hammering into me, his gaze ruthlessly intent on my face, and I feel like I can see straight into his soul, right into the merciless core of him.
The second orgasm crashes into me without warning, the sensations hitting in a tidal wave.
Every muscle, inside and out, clenches and releases, my toes curling uncontrollably and my nails digging into his sides as I cry out.
The peak of pleasure seems to go on forever, the contractions so prolonged it feels like they’ll never stop.
I can feel myself squeezing rhythmically around him, again and again, and I see the exact moment it sends him over the edge.
With a guttural groan, he throws back his head, the chords in his muscular neck straining as he thrusts all the way into me and stills, his eyes squeezing shut as his thick cock pulses deep within me, flooding me with liquid warmth.
The sensation is strangely entrancing, and I shudder as my inner muscles squeeze again, wringing out the remaining drops of pleasure.
Breathing heavily, Marcus opens his eyes and looks at me, his pupils still dilated from his orgasm. For a few heartbeats, we just stare at each other, stunned by the power of what we experienced. Then his eyes widen and he pushes off me, pulling out with a sudden motion.
“Fuck!” He sits back, staring at my thighs. “Fucking fuck.”
Hurt and bewildered, I sit up and follow his gaze—only to freeze in horror as I realize what that warm, wet sensation meant.
Marcus came in me.
Without a condom.
The evidence is on my thighs.