CHAPTER NINETEEN MARSHALL #2
"I'm sorry, too." I whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
"I should have asked before I promoted you.
Your business is all yours, and I don't get to decide anything regarding it, even if I have well-intentioned ideas.
I gave you a PR boost you didn't ask for, and now everyone can see how great you are on their own, but it should have been your decision to put yourself out there. "
She pulled back and looked up at me.
"A PR boost?" She asked.
"Yeah. That was all it was. I pointed people in your direction. Your work did the rest. The clients who are emailing you are emailing because they looked at your portfolio and saw exactly what I see. A talented designer. I opened the door, and you walked through it on your own, babe."
She stared at me and then a smile spread across her face.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"You really love me. Even when I'm difficult and pushing you away for no reason?"
"Especially then." I said, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes.
"I love you in a way that scares me. If I am being honest with myself, it scares the shit out of me.
I have never felt this way before, not with anyone.
If you want me to back off screaming about you from the rooftops, I will, but I will never back off on you. "
She pressed her lips against mine, kissing me hard. I lifted her and carried her to the kitchen and placed her on the island.
"I don't want to fight anymore." She said, her mouth against mine.
"Neither do I." I said, pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it behind me.
She grabbed my jacket and shoved it off my shoulders, then fisted the front of my shirt and yanked it up. I barely got it over my head before her hands were on my chest, her fingers dragging down my stomach. Her nails on my skin sent heat straight through me.
I kissed my way down her neck and dragged my mouth across her collarbone. She tilted her head back, and her fingers twisted into my hair, pulling me closer. The sound she made, low and desperate, made my cock throb and my hands shake against her ribs.
I unhooked her bra and pulled it off, dropping it onto the counter.
She was perfect. Full and soft, her nipples already hard.
I took one in my mouth, and she gasped, her back arching, her grip tightening in my hair.
I sucked hard, rolling the other between my thumb and finger, and she moaned my name like it hurt her.
She pulled at my belt, her hands frantic, and shoved my jeans and boxers down while I lifted her hips and dragged her leggings and underwear off in one rough motion. They hit the floor, and neither of us cared.
She sat on the kitchen island bare, her legs spread, and hooked her heels behind my thighs, pulling me forward until I could feel the heat of her against me.
My cock pressed against her, slick and swollen, and I had to grit my teeth to stop myself from pushing in.
I pressed my forehead against hers. Both of us breathing hard.
"Condom?" I questioned.
"I'm on the pill." She held my gaze, steady. "I trust you."
Her words hit me deep. She trusted me. A woman who had every reason not to trust anyone, who had learned that trust was a trap and vulnerability was a weapon, the safest thing she could do was never let anyone close. She trusted me, and I would die before I proved her wrong.
I gripped her hip with one hand and wrapped my other hand around my cock, dragging the head through her wetness, feeling how slick and swollen she was.
She sucked in a breath, and her hips rocked toward me.
I lined myself up and pushed inside her slowly, inch by inch, bare.
No barrier. Her, hot, tight, and soaking wet, gripping me so hard my vision blurred.
Her eyes closed, and her lips parted. Her hands gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles white.
I pulled almost all the way out and pushed back in, still slow, savoring every inch.
The way she clenched around me, the way her breath hitched every time I bottomed out.
I watched her face, the flush spreading down her neck, her lips swollen from my mouth, her brow creasing every time I rolled my hips.
She moaned. The sound filled the kitchen and settled somewhere at the base of my spine.
I gripped her hips with both hands and pulled her closer, angling her so I hit deeper. She cried out and her nails bit into my shoulders.
"Harder," she moaned. "Please."
I gave her harder. I snapped my hips forward, and she gasped, her whole body jerking.
I found the angle that made her fall apart, shorter strokes, deep, grinding against the spot that made her thighs shake.
My thumb found her clit, and I pressed, circling slowly while I fucked her hard, and she cried out, her back arching off the counter and her nails raking down my back hard enough to sting.
I kept the pressure steady. Circling. Watching her unravel. She was close. I could feel it. Her walls clenching tight around me, getting wetter, her breathing short and ragged, her body trembling.
"Marshall, I'm—"
"I know. Let go."
She came with a shattered cry, her whole body locking around me, legs, arms, everything, her walls squeezing me in rhythmic pulses that nearly dragged me under. I watched her face as she fell apart, her mouth open, her eyes screwed shut. The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
The sight of her. The sound of her. The feeling of her coming around my cock with nothing between us.
It pushed me over. I came inside her with a groan, burying myself as deep as I could go, my hips jerking against hers, my hands gripping her thighs hard enough to leave marks.
My forehead dropped to her shoulder, and I stayed there, breathing her in, feeling her pulse against my lips.
We stayed like that for a minute. Connected and breathing.
"I'm sorry." She whispered, tears falling from her eyes as I looked at her.
"Stop apologizing." I said, kissing her lips while still inside her. "We're good, better than good. We had our first fight, and the best makeup sex I've ever had."
She smiled against my shoulder.
"Same for me."
We cleaned up, and then we made tea, and we settled onto her couch in the dark, the TV on but the sound muted. I told her all about the game, including the talk with Briggs.
"When I saw the goal," she said, "I screamed so loud poor Cooper was jarred awake and he knocked his water bowl over."
I laughed and pulled her closer. "You will be there next time and Cooper can sleep in peace."
"I will be there. I promise."
"I know."
She pressed her face into my chest while Cooper climbed up onto the couch and wedged himself into the only space available for him and rested his head on Lillah's lap.
It didn't take long for the three of us to fall asleep on the couch, the TV muted, casting blue light across the ceiling.
I woke once. Lillah was still sound asleep against my chest, her breathing slow and rhythmic, while Cooper snored.
I closed my eyes, letting myself feel how lucky I was.
I was exactly where I wanted to be, and I would always fight for it if I needed to.