Marshall #2
She pulled back enough to look at me. Her eyes were dark, lips swollen and cheeks flushed, her breathing shallow.
"I should tell you something."
"What's that?"
"I…I don't do this. I don't invite men in and open wine and…"
"I didn't think you did." I said, brushing my thumb over her cheek.
"I…you needed to hear it from me." She said, her voice tight.
She almost sounded angry at first, but then I realized she was scared. Her hands shook as she placed one on my forearm.
"You don't know, Marshall. You know nothing about what I've…"
I held her face in both my hands, my thumbs against her cheeks, my fingers in her damp hair.
"You don't need to tell me right now, but I know someone hurt you.
I don't know what happened, and you don't need to tell me if you don't want to, but I got the feeling that you moved here to get away from something.
I know that whatever I make you feel, it's reminding you of things that happened.
" I held her gaze. "But I'm not him, Lillah.
Whoever he was, whatever he did, I'm not him. "
"How do you know I moved here to get away from…"
"Something you said the other day about clients, and your plates on your vehicle are from Texas."
"Okay." She whispered.
"It's okay." I said, leaning forward, kissing her again.
She kissed me back as if she had stopped weighing the risks and decided to be here, in the moment, with me.
The tie on her bathrobe came open, and I slid my hands inside along her waist, feeling the heat of her body underneath.
My eyes trailed down her body. The red lace that had been teasing me was a bra, and she had on matching panties.
The sight of her in it, the way the lace hugged her body, made my blood heat until my pulse beat in my throat.
I tugged the robe from her shoulders, and she shrugged out of it. I pressed my mouth to her collarbone, moving lower, kissing along the lace edge of the bra, feeling her ribs expand under my lips with each breath she took.
"Marshall." Her fingers were in my hair, gripping and pulling in a way that told me not to stop.
I reached behind me, pulling my shirt off over my head, and immediately her hands were on me. Her touch was careful, almost as if she were afraid to touch me. Her fingers traced over my chest, down my stomach, settling on the bruise on my ribs.
"Does this hurt?" She asked, looking at the green and black area from where I'd been slammed into the boards.
"No."
She traced the bruise gently, her fingers barely touching my skin, then she leaned forward pressing her lips to it.
I pulled her onto my lap, my hands running over her ass.
She straddled me, her hands on my shoulders, her damp hair falling around both of us.
I reached behind her and unhooked her bra with one quick motion, and I watched as she allowed it to fall.
She didn't cover herself like most girls I'd been with, and she didn't break eye contact with me.
She held my gaze and allowed me to see her, handing over her trust to me.
She was beautiful. I kissed her neck, her collarbone, the space between her breasts, and she arched into me, her hips shifting forward. She ground against me, and the friction made me groan against her skin. She let out a small, broken exhale that sent heat through my body.
"Tell me what you want?" I said, my mouth on the side of her neck, my hands on her hips.
"You."
She didn't hesitate; she let out her want loud and clear.
"I want you."
I wrapped my arms around her, lifting her as I stood. She wrapped her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck, and I carried her upstairs, finding her bedroom under her direction.
Her room was dark except for the small light on her nightstand.
I placed her down on her bed, and she lay there, in nothing but those lace panties, her dark hair spread across the pillow.
I watched her chest rise and fall, and then met her eyes.
She didn't look away from me, didn't cover herself.
She looked at me as if she were daring me to take her.
I pulled off my sweatpants and boxers and watched as her eyes moved down my body, her expression one of hunger and want, which only made me harder than I already was.
Hooking my fingers under the lace at her hips, I dragged her panties down, dragging the fabric along her thighs and watching her skin pebble from my touch.
Then I kneeled between her legs and pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh.
She gasped, and her fingers found my hair.
I took my time, kissing my way up the soft skin of her inner thigh.
I went slow enough so she could feel every press of my lips and every exhale against her skin.
When my mouth found her center, she was wet and the taste of her flooded my tongue.
The sound she made when I closed my lips over her clit was something I'd hear for weeks.
Her moan started low and got lost somewhere in her throat, as if she was trying to hold back but couldn't.
I worked her with my tongue. Slow, deliberate licks, reading her body and learning the rhythm.
I adjusted when she shifted, pressed harder when her hips lifted and backed off when I felt her tense.
Her breathing grew ragged, and she tightened her hands in my hair.
Her thighs clamped around my head. I didn't stop, didn't slow, kept the pressure steady and consistent until she came with a cry that shook her entire body, her back arching off the mattress and her fingers pulling my hair hard enough to hurt.
I kissed my way up her body. Her face flushed, her eyes half-closed. The tension that she carried was gone.
"Condom." she muttered. "Nightstand."
I reached over and opened the drawer, grabbing one. I tore the wrapper and rolled it on as she watched, her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes heavy.
I settled between her legs, pushing inside her slowly, inch by inch.
I watched her face for every reaction as the tight, wet heat of her body closed around me, nearly making me lose my mind.
I held still for a second, letting her adjust and giving myself a moment to calm down because if I moved too fast this was going to be over well before it started, and I wanted this to last. I wanted to remember every second of this moment.
"Move, please." She begged.
I moved, slowly at first, moving deeper until I found the rhythm that made her fingers dig into my shoulder and her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me deeper. Her back arched off the mattress, and her nails raked down my back.
I fucked her exactly how I pictured. Hard, deep, and steady, finding each angle that made her body shake and her cry out as the headboard hit the wall with every thrust. She tightened around me, the rhythmic clenching of muscles that told me she was getting close.
I reached down between us and pressed my thumb to her clit and that was when she came apart.
The sight of her falling apart under me as she called out my name, the feel of her body pulsing around mine, sent me over the edge. I buried my face in her neck and came so hard my vision went white. My hips jerked, and her name fell from my lips.
We lay there afterward, tangled together and breathing hard. Her head on my chest, and my arm around her shoulder. At some point Cooper had come into the room and lay down at the foot of the bed.
"Marshall." She said, her voice soft, quiet.
"Yeah?"
"That wasn't supposed to happen."
I pressed my lips to her forehead.
"I know, but it did."
She was quiet as her fingers traced idle patterns on my chest.
"I'm glad it did." She said.
I pulled her close and closed my eyes as I placed a kiss on her head again.
"So am I."