Chapter 26 #2
When class is finally over and we’re heading to the omega residences, I take Marcus’ hand.
“Can we go back to the cottage?” I ask, my voice shaking.
While I didn’t show fear in front of my father, it pounds through me now, as loud as my pulse drumming in my ears.
I can’t end up on a metal slab like that again, not at my father’s mercy once more, because I know now that he won’t just lock my magic; he’ll steal it, my life be damned.
Marcus pulls me close and kisses my temple. “Of course, sweet-tart.”
Inside the cottage, I kick off my shoes and crawl into the nest on the couch, Marcus taking the spot beside me, and wrapping me in a blanket before taking me into his arms. But I need more than just this closeness from him.
I capture his lips in a desperate kiss, hands slipping into his short hair.
I fight to hold back my tears with kiss after kiss, needing so badly to stay strong, to not fall apart at the slightest provocation, no matter how grim.
He breaks our kiss to nuzzle my cheek. “Hey,” he says softly. “You’re okay. You’re here with me, and you’re okay.” He kisses me again, sweetly, tenderly. Saints, he’s so gentle with me. Until he deepens our kiss, his tongue dancing with mine.
I whine into his kiss, and that only incenses him.
He drags me onto his lap just as he did during our picnic, his hands on my hips.
He’s hard and ready beneath me, and I wonder how far he’ll let this go.
If today’s the day we’ll finally make love.
But no, Marcus is a gentleman. He’ll take this slow.
Not so slow, though. Not so gentlemanly as he traces a finger down my neck before taking one of my breasts in his hand.
I arch into him, feeling every hard inch of him.
Saints, I need to feel him against me, heat to heat, skin to skin.
I need his touch like fire needs oxygen to blaze, and Marcus is already burning me up.
I awkwardly throw off my uniform jacket, yank my tie loose, and then fumble with the buttons of my pressed white shirt.
He steadies my hands, taking me in, his eyes intent on my breasts.
He undoes the rest of the buttons slowly, his gaze only leaving my body to meet my eyes.
When he helps me out of my shirt and tosses it aside, he looks at me with reverence in his gray-green eyes. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Juniper,” he says in a low tone, like a secret just between us.
I reach behind my back and unhook my bra, but he stays my hands when I go for the straps.
He shudders as he slips them down my arms, one by one, torturously slow.
When my breasts are finally bared to him, my nipples pebbling under his perusal of me, he looks into my eyes then captures my lips in a heart-stopping kiss.
His scent spikes, and I desperately breathe it in, needing him.
His scent, his touch, his lips on mine, on my breasts…
“May I touch?” he asks, his voice hoarse with need.
I smirk at him, finally the one in control. “Isn’t that the idea?”
He wipes the smirk straight off my face when he weighs one breast in his strong hand, squeezing me gently before massaging the sensitive flesh. When he thumbs over my erect nipple, I shiver. I lean back on his lap, giving him better access to my breasts.
“I want to see you, too,” I murmur, and he obliges me, yanking off his henley and tossing it aside.
My eyes go wide as I take him in. Saints, his body looks like it was sculpted in marble, a classical statue that belongs in a museum. I trace my fingertips over his pecs and down the ladder of his abs, shivering, my perfume exploding from me and flooding the air around us.
“Let me touch you,” he all but begs.
“Not before I feel you against me,” I say, pressing my body to his with a sigh.
He wraps his arms around me and breathes deeply, his chest expanding against my bare breasts.
I moan out my heady pleasure, and he takes my hips in his hands, then settles me back on his lap as I was before, and I realize something with another whine.
Marcus Haley plans to worship me. Slowly, reverently.
He leans me back, one arm around me to keep me from falling, and kisses a line from my jaw to my breast, before taking my nipple between his lips. I let out a breathy, needy moan, and he lashes his tongue against the sensitive nub.
“Marcus,” I breathe.
He groans. “Say it again, Juniper, please.”
I throw my head back as he laves his tongue over my nipple, crying out his name this time.
A knock sounds at the door, and my eyes go wide. “Again? We’re being interrupted again?”
Marcus kisses me once more, just a sweet press of his lips, then pulls on his shirt. He goes to the door and cracks it open, shielding me from whoever’s at the door, protecting me even now.
“Oh,” Luca says.
He must know what we’ve been doing. My scent is all over Marcus, and his hair is mussed from where I ran my hands through it.
“I was just going to, uh, ask if you wanted to meet at the Chinese restaurant and pick up dinner for the pack with me. But you’re busy. Clearly. Uh—”
“Give us a few minutes,” Marcus rumbles, all but slamming the door in Luca’s face.
He comes to the couch and finds my discarded clothes.
He traces the curves of my breasts once more before easing the straps of my bra up my arms and onto my shoulders before he latches the band.
He helps me into my shirt, doing the buttons up slowly, dressing me as sweetly as he was reverent when he helped me undress.
He finally pulls me to my feet, pocketing my tie.
He closes the distance between us, nuzzling my cheek to layer even more of his scent on my skin. He kisses my jaw, then my lips.
“Never forget that you are mine,” he says in a low voice, his lips brushing the corner of my mouth. “And I am yours.”