Chapter 20 Lucy #2
“Oh yeah.” I shut my eyes. Embracing every moment his skin is on mine. Loving whatever game we’re playing right now.
Marsh’s lips trail to the other side of my neck, gently kissing exposed skin.
“Where else should I try?” he murmurs.
“Kiss me,” I say.
Marsh lifts his head and his lips hover over mine.
There’s a moment of hesitation, permission that’s being asked, and I can’t wait any longer.
I close the gap between us and kiss him.
I kiss him so fucking hard because it’s all I’ve wanted to do since this morning.
He groans against my mouth and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
I want him to shove his tongue down my throat, make me scream, make me come, but I also want to savor every moment.
Getting a better grip, he lifts me off the bed, and I wrap my legs around his waist. His hand moves to my cheek, and he pulls himself away for a moment and just looks at me. He looks at me like he’s never seen a woman before.
“What?” I breathe out.
“Did you get enough rest?” he says. “Because this is going to take a while.”
Marsh slowly puts me down and we switch spots.
I guide him to a seated position at the foot of the bed while I remain standing in front of him.
He then reaches under my shirt and sets his hands on my waist. As he keeps eye contact, his fingers slowly start to travel up my sides until his thumbs start grazing my nipples.
It takes no time for them to harden under his touch, and the corner of his mouth curves once he feels it.
I can’t handle it anymore. I squeeze his shoulders and then take my shirt off, tossing it on the bed.
Marsh inhales, his eyes traveling across my chest. He grips my hips, moves in, and kisses my stomach. I tense at the feeling of him and run my fingers through his hair. He kisses every inch of my torso, my ribs, my belly button, just above the hem of my shorts.
“Marsh,” I whisper. “Don’t tease me.”
He looks up. “Haven’t you ever heard of savoring something good?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of getting to the good part?” I raise an eyebrow.
Marsh keeps his gaze locked on mine. I frown, but then he places his palm on my cheek, swiping a thumb over my lower lip.
“This is the good part,” he says before his lips crash into mine.
His kiss is forceful and passionate like he’s trying to show me simply kissing my lips is all that he needs.
Just a small part of me is enough for him.
His tongue swirls around mine, and I’m suddenly desperate to know what else he can do with it.
If I thought Marsh peaked at our gas station kiss, I’m sorely mistaken.
My hands grip onto Marsh’s shoulders, squeezing them for mercy.
Marsh’s lips go back to my stomach, and I let out another moan.
“Okay,” I breathe out. “It wasn’t a fluke. You’re just really good at this.”
“I might be good at other things too,” he says against my hip bone.
“Yeah?” I smile down at him. My hands start to massage his shoulders. “What first?”
“I don’t know about you.” Marsh eyes my chest. “But I want nothing more than to suck on these.”
“Suck on what?” I say, and he now has a devilish grin.
“I’d like to suck on these perfect tits, Lucy.”
Marsh slowly massages my breasts, palming them, squeezing them, playing with them.
“See,” I breathe out, trying my best to articulate my thoughts. “I told you the dirty talk would help.”
Marsh licks my nipple, causing it to harden even more.
I feel like I’m about to explode now that he’s finally touching me.
He licks the other and then sucks and I instinctively pull his head in closer.
He sucks long and hard and flicks my other nipple while doing it.
He seems drunk, like he could get off on this alone, and there’s nothing more arousing to me.
His hands move lower, squeezing my ass, and I immediately want no clothing in between us. My fingers reach to the waist of my shorts and he stops me.
“Wait,” he rasps. “Come here.”
Marsh scoops me up in his arms and then gently places me on the bed.
He assures that my head is comfortable on the pillows and then he hovers his body over mine.
He gives me a gentle kiss on the lips and then trails more kisses down my neck, between my breasts, and to my belly button.
My breath stops when he reaches for my shorts and pulls them down, my now naked body exposed while he’s fully clothed.
His fingers trace around my most sensitive area and it causes me to whimper. “Marsh,” I cry. “Please.”
“Please what?” he says, and I quite literally can’t think of what to say next because his fingers push inside of me and I see stars. “You like it when I finger you, Lucy?”
“Mhm.” I nod.
He continues to pump inside of me until I can hear how wet I am down there. While I’ve read every book on foreplay, I’m convinced that Marsh now needs to write one. I’m so close to coming but he pulls his fingers out and moves beside me.
“Sit on my face,” he says.
I look at him. “Really?”
“This is all I’ve wanted since the minute I met you, Lucy.”
Marsh adjusts himself on the bed, and I straddle myself on top of him, facing the wall. When I lower myself on his lips, I cannot control the sounds that come out of me. I pull myself up a little higher, but Marsh’s hands grip my waist and bring me back down.
“Suffocate me,” I hear him say.
So, I do.
I grind myself onto his face, feeling his tongue swipe me and then go inside of me.
I ride it, going up and down on his tongue until I hear his grunts beneath me.
Normally, this position would make me feel a little self-conscious.
But when I look down and see Marsh’s head between my thighs, it’s a view I never want to forget.
It’s an image I know I’ll be going back to when I need it.
All the curiosities in my mind have been put to rest. Marshall Oakley is amazing at oral.
“Oh my god, Marsh, that feels so fucking good.” I throw my head back and grab the headboard in front of me.
I continue to move my hips until I have that feeling.
That feeling of euphoria that’s inevitable, and I ride it out until my eyes roll to the back of my head and my legs start shaking.
“Sh-shit,” I cry and then roll over onto my back.
The room is filled with the sound of my panting, and I’m still only seeing black.
Marsh wipes a palm over his face. “I could’ve done that all night.”
He crawls over me and gives me a kiss. There’s a slight taste of me on his mouth that leaves me wanting more. I reach for his erection, palming it, but he stops me.
“What?” I frown.
“You don’t have to do that,” he says.
I almost let out a laugh. “But what about you?”
He lies on his back, his arm behind his head. “I got everything I wanted.”
I’m taken aback. Slowly, it dawns on me that sex has always been transactional for me.
While it can be passionate, it’s never been intimate.
At least for me. Marsh doesn’t kiss me or touch all the right spots on my body because he wants something in return or because he’s following the motions.
Marsh wants to make me feel good, and that’s enough for him.
I stare back at him—his eyes are closed, perfectly content—and I’m shocked.
I could flick the lights off and turn over, but there’s that ember within me that’s now turned into a full-blown flame. I want to give Marsh what he just gave me. I want to hear him say my name. I want to satisfy him. I want him.