23. Marcella
twenty-three
Marcella
A Few Days Later
We haven’t come up for air.
Every moment blurring into the next—bodies, mouths, hands, heat.
It’s been days and Seamus has only left my place once. Monday, when I was on a conference call I took from home, he popped out to grab some clothes and groceries.
He’s been here ever since—like he belongs with me.
We’ve fucked so much, I’m half-convinced my body’s permanently shaped to fit him.
As incredible as the sex is, my favorite thing is what happens after. He caresses me like I’m something sacred. Always pulling me into his chest when we sleep, like he can’t stand being apart.
He’s so different than I imagined. When I first heard about the stairwell thing, I figured it was some cocky med-school flex. Now I realize it’s never been about skill, it’s about care.
Seamus McGloughlin was trying to prove he’s worth loving by showing exactly how to give it.
So, why am I so I’m scared?
I know the answer. This thing between us is too easy. Too good. Too fast .
He’s saying all the right things. Doing all the right things. I’m head over heels for the man.
I’m not ordinarily one for woo-woo manifestation bullshit.
Sometimes—like right now, with Seamus half-asleep beside me and his hand resting protectively on my hip—I start to wonder if the universe was holding out.
Like maybe my bad luck with men was because Seamus had to age into the man he is today.
It’s wild, really—how easily he touches me, holds me and treats me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. If I’m honest, I’ve been bracing for the shoe to drop. With Seamus, however, there’s no catch. He’s as straight a shooter as I’ve ever known.
Which is why the idea of meeting each other’s families hasn’t sent me into a full-blown panic.
Today, we’re heading to Tacoma to have dinner with my parents, brother, and sister at the restaurant. I’m nervous. Excited. Sunday I’ve agreed to attend his family dinner with him. No big deal, me meeting a good portion of the McGloughlin clan including all his older rockstar brothers.
It’s not lost on me what it means. I’m bringing a younger man home to meet my family. Tomorrow, the youngest McGloughlin is bringing home an older woman to meet his.
I’d like to talk about it. It’s too soon so I’m trying to go with the flow. How are we going to introduce each other to our families? To the world? Caldwell is still Seamus’s boss. While the settlement’s wrapped, their dynamic hasn’t exactly untangled itself.
At the very least, the rest of his residency is going to be awkward no matter what.
Then there’s Joe Finney and the rest of my partners at the firm. I know how people get into everyone else’s business. It’s human nature. Yet, I’ve built my whole career on being unshakeable. Controlled. When this gets out? It’ll be gossip fodder for sure and I don’t like it.
The problem is, the sex is so good there’s not a lot of time for talking. He’s now trailing kisses across my bare shoulder and his monster erection burrows into the cleft of my ass.
“Fuck, Marcella. Your tits are incredible.” His hand snakes up to cup my breast. “So full and soft. I could spend hours worshiping them.”
How am I supposed to resist? I can’t. Don’t want to.
Seamus rolls me on my back and sucks a nipple into his hot mouth, flicking the tip with his tongue until I'm writhing and whimpering. He laves each of my breasts thoroughly, biting gently on the full curves before moving down my rounded belly, dipping his tongue into my navel.
He runs a finger through my slick folds and curses under his breath. “Your pussy is so goddamn pretty,” he growls, parting me with his thumbs. “Look at you, dripping for me. I need to taste your honey.”
Seamus doesn’t seem to care it’s morning, we’re barely awake, and I’m—funky.
We’ve been at it all night without showering.
Yet, he buries his face between my thighs, lapping at me with enthusiasm.
The first swipe of his tongue through my center has us both moaning.
He explores every inch of my dripping heat, swirling his tongue on my clit every now and then.
He slides two fingers inside, pumping them deep and slow, curling to rub my G-spot, matching his gentle sucks to his thrusting fingers, quickly pushing me toward the edge.
Pleasure crashes over me in a blinding rush.
I cry out his name and Seamus laps at me through the tremors, like he can't get enough of my—our—taste.
When he’s had his fill, Seamus pushes himself up to kneeling. I take in his ripped body—broad pecs, tight abs, thick thighs—and his cock flushed dark with arousal.
I slide my hands up his thighs as I glance up at him, heat curling low in my belly. “Come here.”
His eyes flare and without hesitation, he shifts forward, straddling my shoulders as if he’s wanted this as badly.
The sheer trust in his eyes as he looks down at me steals the breath from my lungs.
Wrapping my fist around his impressive girth, I pump up and down his length.
He thrusts into my hand, groaning. Leaning in, I suck on his crown, probing the slit with the tip of my tongue.
“ Yessss , Marcella.” He tangles his fingers in my hair. “Suck me. Hard. Let me fuck your mouth a little.”
God, yes. I widen my lips around his thick cock, taking him deep. He's velvet-soft on my tongue. Searing hot. I slide up and down his length, relishing the silky skin stretched over stiff flesh. Hollowing my cheeks, I suck him with filthy abandon.
“Ah fuck ,” he grunts, thrusting shallowly into my mouth. “I love seeing those pretty lips around my dick. You have no idea.”
I moan around his girth and allow him to push against the back of my throat.
“Ohhhhh, shit. Marcella—baby, I’m gonna come,” he warns, trying to pull back. I clamp my hands on his ass, holding him deep. I want to taste him. With a harsh groan, he erupts, shooting thick, salty cream into my mouth. I swallow him down greedily, coaxing every last drop.
He shudders through the aftershocks, stroking my hair. “Incredible.” He pulls me up for a searing kiss.
We collapse back onto the bed, breathless and slick with sweat. I barely have time to relax before I feel him hardening against my thigh again. The thing about being with someone in their late twenties—or maybe it’s just Seamus—recovery time seems to be more of a suggestion than a requirement.
“Baby.” He caresses my cheek. “Can we try something? I want to watch you ride me in front of your full-length mirror. See your tits sway and your curves jiggle when I’m inside of you. Let me show you how goddamn sexy you are.”
I bite my lip, heat rushing to my cheeks before I can stop the words. “It will turn you on?”
“Feel my cock drilling into your thigh? How hard you make me?” His cups my chin, thumb brushing over my flushed cheek. “I’ve never wanted to see anything more.”
Without waiting for my answer, Seamus sits up and scoots against the headboard with his legs extended out in front of him and helps me straddle his hips, my back to his front.
He shifts slightly beneath me, his hands prying my thighs apart.
He spreads them wide until his cock rests between my pussy lips—thick and pulsing.
In the mirror across from the bed, we both watch as he slides one hand up my rounded belly, the other down between my legs. He encircles the base of his cock with his hand and taps my clit with his fat crown. We both gasp at the exquisite sight when he feeds his length into me.
“Ride me,” he encourages, latching his palms around my hips. “Work yourself up and down on my cock. I want you to watch yourself too.”
I shiver at his instruction, doing as he says. I position my knees on each side of his powerful thighs and lift up then sink back down cautiously, feeling the blunt head catch on my entrance. He's so big this way, the stretch intense as I impale myself on his rigid length.
Leaning forward slightly, I brace my hands on his thighs, rocking slowly. This feels incredible. He knows exactly what my body needs.
“Fuck,” Seamus breathes, kneading my ass cheeks. “Your pussy is so tight, Marcella. It feels so goddamn incredible.”
Encouraged, I gain confidence and watch myself slide up and down his shaft, raising myself almost all the way off before sinking back down.
I watch in the mirror when his cock appears, glistening with my arousal and then vanishes into my puffy folds.
I’m mesmerized. Every nerve is alive with the most intense pleasure I’ve ever experienced.
We’ve spent days fucking each other in every position possible. This is different. Now, I can see the way he watches me. His expression isn’t merely hunger or lust. It’s something quieter. Deeper.
Love .
He hasn’t said the word, and neither have I.
Yet, I feel it settling into the spaces between our bodies.
Anchoring itself in the way he fucks me like I’m some kind of miracle.
The way his hands worship my full hips, plush thighs, and pillowy belly like they’re his most-cherished prizes.
A week of fucking him has brought me to the point where I don’t flinch or suck in my stomach or try to cover myself anymore.
This impossibly beautiful, brilliant man isn’t just inside my body, he’s carved himself into my soul.
I know we’re new. The timing’s all wrong. I’m too old for him. None of it matters to me anymore.
Not when I feel like this.
Time doesn’t exist.
Age is just math.
He’s mine.
So, I let go.
Of the fear. Of the doubt. Of the skepticism.
“Ah fuck, yesssss .” He winces when I circle my hips and squeeze. “Use me, baby. Get yourself off.”
His words inflame me. I’m liberated. Uninhibited. I slam myself down on his pumping hips, impaling myself over and over, chasing the delicious friction. The room fills with the obscene wet sounds of me fucking myself on his cock like a woman who’s gone mad.
“You look so hot riding me like this.” Seamus pants. “Keep it up, baby—milk every drop from me. Your tight pussy’s got me ready to blow.”
Seamus winds an arm around my waist, yanking me down as he bucks up to meet me. He ruts into me with hard, short digs, precisely targeting my G-spot with every thrust.
I reach back, threading my fingers into his hair as I grind on him in wild circles. “Oh fuck,” I whine. “You’re like magic the way you fuck my pussy. Harder, Seamus. So hard I squeeze every ounce of your come into my body.”
His eyes meet mine in the mirror, wide for just a second. My unfiltered commentary has caught him—and me—off guard. A slow, wicked grin spreads across his face, and the heat in his gaze triples. I actually feel his cock thicken.
He likes it. Me, talking dirty. I feel powerful. Wanted. Wild.
“I'm close,” he pants. “You're gonna make me come so hard. I'm gonna flood your tight pussy.”
His fingers slip between my thighs, circling my clit with deliberate pressure. I can’t look away from the way his hand moves. The way his pupils are nearly black with desire as he watches me fall apart under his touch.
My breasts bounce and sway with every grind and thrust—full and flushed, nipples drawn tight and needy—so obscenely perfect I’m almost able to see myself the way he sees me. It’s hypnotic. Raw. For the first time in my life, I don’t look away from my naked reflection—I revel in it.
“God. Seamus!” I wail, bucking desperately when I feel the telltale flutter low in my belly.
“Yes. Come for me.” His fingers dig into my hips. “Squeeze me. Take it all…”
Visceral pleasure erupts and my pussy clamps his shaft. With a harsh curse, Seamus yanks me down, seating himself to the hilt. His cock twitches and swells before he spurts inside me.
I'm utterly debauched. Thoroughly fucked. Trembling. Gasping. Unable to do anything but slump back against him. Seamus wraps his arms around me, dropping kisses on my neck and shoulders. We watch his release leak out of me and pool on the sheets underneath us.
Filthy, erotic evidence of our passion.
When he slips out, we roll to the dry side of the bed, cuddling and caressing, basking in the afterglow.
Worshipping each other with gentle touches and more words of endearment.
I think dreamily…
If I’m a late bloomer…
Damn .
Blossoming was well worth the wait.