Chapter 8 - Nora
I'm cumming on his mouth and I can't stop.
My whole body is shaking, trembling so violently I can't control it. Can't control anything. My legs wrap around his neck, locking him in place as wave after wave crashes through me.
Marcus doesn't stop licking. Doesn't pull away. He works me through the entire orgasm, his tongue relentless against my clit.
I squeeze tighter. Can't help it. My thighs are like a vise around his head.
He taps my legs. Hard. Urgent.
I release him immediately. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—"
He's gasping. Actually gasping for air. But he's also smiling. Chuckling low and rough.
"It's fine," he says, voice hoarse. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."
Enjoyed?
Is he serious?
I didn't enjoy it. I fucking loved it.
No man has ever eaten me out like that. Ever.
Most barely tried, treated it like an obligation before getting to what they really wanted.
None of them made me cum like Marcus just did.
None of them looked at me the way he's looking at me right now, like being here with me, between my legs, tasting me, is a gift from the heavens.
He doesn't care about my extra weight. Doesn't care about the belly rolls or the soft arms or any of the things my parents and sister and every other person in my life made me feel ashamed of.
He wants me.
All of me.
Marcus gets up off his knees. My juices are coating his lips and chin. Glistening. And he looks fucking handsome. Devastating. Like some ancient god of war who decided to worship at my altar instead.
I don't waste a single second.
My legs are still trembling but I don't care. I lean forward and reach for his belt. Unbuckle it with shaking fingers. Pull at his jeans.
"Nora—" he starts.
"I want your cock inside me," I interrupt. Blunt. Shameless. "Right now."
His eyes darken. "Fuck."
He helps me, yanking his jeans down his hips. They get stuck at his ankles. Too tight, too tangled, but he forces them off. Kicks them across the room.
I bite my lower lip when I see his cock straining against his briefs. It's fucking big. Thick. Throbbing. Begging to be freed. I reach for the waistband and pull his briefs down.
His cock springs free. Dangles for just a second before pointing straight at me. Hard and ready and perfect.
I've been shy my entire life. Always the quiet one. The one who never spoke up, never asked for what she wanted, never felt comfortable enough to be sexual.
But not now.
Not when I want this so badly I can barely breathe.
"Please," I whisper. "Please put it inside me."
I move deeper into the bed. Spread my legs wide. Grip my breasts with both hands, offering myself to him completely.
I've never been this sexual with any man before. Never felt comfortable enough to be. But with Marcus, with Reckless, I know I'm safe. He'll protect me. Take care of me. Make me cum.
All in a single day.
Marcus strokes his cock. His eyes are locked on mine. He's taunting me. I make puppy eyes at him. "Please."
"You really want it, don't you?" His voice is rough. "You love my cock already."
"Yes." No hesitation. "Please, Marcus."
He groans. "Fuck, the way you say my name—"
He climbs onto the bed. Positions himself between my spread legs. Guides his cock to my entrance. The head presses against me. Just the tip. Stretching me.
I gasp. Tilt my head back against the wall. Close my eyes for just a few seconds because I want to feel this. Really feel it.
Him thrusting his cock inside. Slow at first. Then faster. Deeper. Filling me completely.
And then he does.
Pushes inside in one long, steady thrust.
"Oh god," I moan. "Marcus—"
"You okay?" He stills. Giving me time to adjust.
"Don't stop." I open my eyes. Look at him. "Please don't stop."
He doesn't.
He starts moving. Thrusting. Slow and controlled at first, then faster. Harder. His cock presses deeper with every stroke.
Right now, nothing else matters.
There's no danger. No Castellano. No men hunting me. No fear.
Only this.
Me and Marcus and his cock—his big, thick cock that's fucking ravaging me right now. I'm taking it all. Every inch. But I've never been fucked like this. Never felt so full, so owned, so completely consumed.
I open my eyes.
He's staring right at me. Eyes wide open. Groaning with every thrust. His cock going in and out, in and out.
I can't stop myself. I reach down between us and start touching my clit. Right in front of him. No shame. No embarrassment.
Just need.
"Fuck yes," Marcus growls. "Don't stop. Touch yourself while I fuck you."
I rub faster. Harder. Matching his rhythm.
"I want you to cum all over my cock," he says. "Can you do that for me?"
"Yes." I'm already close. So close. "Yes, I—"
My whole body seizes. Spasms. I've never had an orgasm this strong before. Never had one that takes over my entire body, makes me lose control completely.
"Stop," I gasp. "Stop, I need—I need a second—"
Marcus stops immediately. Holds perfectly still inside me.
"I'm sorry," I pant. "This never, this never happens—"
"Don't apologize." His voice is gentle despite how hard he must be. How badly he must want to keep going. "It's fine as long as you're enjoying it."
"No man has ever cared about my enjoyment before," I admit.
Marcus's jaw tightens. "Then they were all fucking idiots." He touches my face. Gentle. "I'll always care, Nora. Sex is never as good as when both people are into it."
It's like he always knows the right thing to say. The right thing to do.
I take a long, deep breath. Let the aftershocks fade. Then…
"I'm ready."
His eyes flash. Dark. Hungry. "Get on all fours then. I need that ass in my hands."
Fuck. I obey. Roll over onto my hands and knees. Ass up, face down as best I can manage. I feel his hands on me immediately. Gripping my ass cheeks and squeezing.
"You have a beautiful ass," he says.
No man has ever told me that. I've always believed my ass was bad. Too big, too soft, not shaped right. But Marcus likes it. He fucking likes it.
I shake it. Look back over my shoulder at him. "Slap it. And fuck me."
He smirks. "Yes, ma'am."
The slap comes hard enough to sting but not hurt. He's clearly not using his full strength but I still feel it. The impact. The heat.
It makes me feel alive.
His cock is next. Pressing inside from behind. Deeper than before. This angle lets him go so much deeper. And this time there's no slow moment. No gentle buildup.
He's in from the start. Fucking me mercilessly.
The bed is creaking. Groaning under us. I'm sure if someone walks past the door they'll hear everything—skin slapping, my moans, the rhythmic squeak of springs.
But there's no way we're stopping now.
He slaps my ass again. Harder this time, and pounds me. His cock goes in and out so fast I barely have time to miss it when he pulls back. His thighs slam against my ass with every thrust. The impact throws my body forward but he places a hand on my hip and pulls me back.
Holds me in place while he fucks me.
"Marcus," I moan. "Oh god, Marcus—"
"You feel so fucking good," he groans. "So tight. So perfect."
I can't endure it anymore. This is too good. Way beyond what I expected. Beyond anything I've ever experienced.
I turn my head back. Look at him over my shoulder.
"I'm close," I warn. "But don't, don't stop. I want it all."
That seems to trigger something in him. His eyes open wide. His mouth shapes the word *fuck* but no sound comes out.
And he increases his pace.
He's absolutely destroying me now. Pounding into me so hard I can barely breathe. So deep I can feel him everywhere. It doesn't take long. My third orgasm rips through me. I cum all over his cock, screaming his name into the mattress.
I can feel my pussy tightening around him. Clenching. And then I feel the exact moment his cock throbs.
He explodes inside me.
One load. Two. Three. His cock keeps throbbing, pumping cum deep inside me. It feels so fucking good. Warm and thick and perfect.
"Fuck," Marcus groans. His grip on my hips is almost bruising. "Nora—fuck—"
He gives a few more shallow thrusts. Working through his orgasm. Then he stills. We're both panting. Sweating. Completely wrecked.
He pulls out slowly. I feel his cum start leaking immediately. Dripping out of me. Down my thigh. I wobble off the bed. My legs are shaking so badly I can barely stand, but I make it to the bathroom. Close the door behind me, and lean against it.
I clean myself up as best I can. The bathroom is small but functional—toilet, sink, shower. I use toilet paper to wipe away the evidence of what we just did, then wash my hands and splash cold water on my face.
My reflection stares back at me from the mirror above the sink.
My hair is a mess. My cheeks are flushed. My lips are swollen from kissing. I look thoroughly fucked.
I look happy.
When's the last time I looked happy?
I can't remember.
I take a few more deep breaths. Try to steady my racing heart. Try to process what just happened.
I had sex with Marcus Cole. With Reckless. The man who saved me less than twenty-four hours ago. The man who's currently protecting me from armed men and a dangerous millionaire who thinks he owns me.
We barely know each other.
And it was the best sex of my entire life.
I should probably feel guilty about that. Should probably be overthinking this, spiraling into anxiety about what it means, whether I'm making another terrible decision, whether this is just adrenaline and fear making me do reckless things.
But I don't feel guilty.
I feel alive.
For the first time in weeks, maybe months, I feel like I'm actually living instead of just surviving.
I open the bathroom door.
Marcus is sitting on the edge of the bed. He's put his briefs back on but nothing else. His chest is still heaving slightly. Sweat rolls down his six-pack abs, traces the defined lines of his pecs, the ridges of muscle that make him look like he was carved from stone.
He looks up when I enter. Those dark eyes track my movement as I cross the small room.