22. Chloe
A fter our first date, things between Marcus and I had definitely shifted. It was almost like he’d finally accepted that what he felt was more than just sex, even though neither of us had labelled it.
I knew what I felt… I was in love with Marcus Morelli.
Hell, I’d been infatuated with him for most of my life, and Teenage Chloe would have definitely called it love, even back then, but as I got older, I realised you can’t love someone until you truly know them.
Living with Marcus means I’ve gotten to know him at a much faster rate than if we’d dated normally.
I know he can be grumpy in the morning if I talk to him before his coffee, or if he’s not had much sleep. He moans about eating my baked goods, claiming he has to work-out more afterwards, but I’ve noticed several go missing overnight.
He secretly likes watching chick-flicks, though he’ll deny that if anyone asks. Jacob and Miles are his only two friends, and he doesn’t want more. He’d defend them with his life, and though they would do the same in return, he’d never want them to.
But the Marcus I’ve fallen in love with the most is the one I see when we climb into bed together after a long day. When we’re both too exhausted to get lost in each other's bodies, so instead, he just pulls me close. He rests my head on his chest, while linking our legs together, throwing his arm over my stomach to hold me against him.
While I’m falling asleep, he strokes the hair out of my eyes, before running his fingers through my long dark strands, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. He tells me how beautiful I am, and how lucky he is to have me in his arms.
I listen to the sound of his heart racing, wondering if it’s beating at the same rate as mine, because I feel like we’re connected. As he wishes me sweet dreams, he makes promises to me for the future.
He talks about my dream business, about stopping my marriage to Scott, and making sure I stay here with him.
Each night, I fall asleep as he tells me about the future, and whilst it relaxes and calms me, giving me so much to hope for, there’s also a bit of sadness there that I have to hide from him.
No matter how many promises he makes to me in the darkness when we’re alone, faced with the harsh light of day, nothing is guaranteed.
To choose me would mean he’d have to burn a lot of bridges, and anger a lot of people. I want to believe he’ll do it, so I can live a better life than the one my parents forced on me, but sometimes, hope hurts more than anything else.
Naturally, I haven’t told Marcus about any of my fears, as he’d think I don’t believe he’ll keep his promises, and it’s not that.
I guess, what it boils down to is…when the time comes, I don’t believe he’ll choose me. More than that, I’m not sure he should. I don’t think I’m worth him starting a war over, but that self-doubt is something I have to live with.
I can bury it deep until our clock stops ticking and the decision has to be made. Until then, I plan to live in the moment, savouring every second I get to have with him, so if it does all end, at least I’ll have the memories.
It’s the Saturday evening of my fifth week here, and Marcus and I are having a Chinese take-out, since he’s had a long day at work, and I’ve been in class all day.
We are joking and laughing with each other, sharing stories from our day when the front door bursts open and Miles stomps in.
He flops down onto one of the extra dining chairs and reaches over to grab a spring roll from one of the food containers in the middle of the table, groaning as he stuffs it into his mouth.
“I don’t recall inviting you for dinner,” Marcus states sarcastically, but Miles just ignores him, grabbing a prawn cracker next .
“Do you want me to get you a plate? There’s plenty of food,” I ask, earning me a glare from Marcus.
“Don’t encourage him!”
I chuckle, rolling my eyes as Miles continues to stuff his face. Once he’s swallowed what he has in his mouth, he turns to me.
“No thanks, I’m not staying. I just came in to tell you I’m sick of fielding calls and messages from your crazy family.”
My brows furrow as I glance between both men. Noticing that Marcus looks a little sheepish, I fix my gaze on him.
“What?”
“Look, I didn’t want you to have to deal with any of them, so I had all of their calls and texts diverted to another phone. Miles has been monitoring it and replying on your behalf where necessary,” Marcus replies.
My mouth flops open, and I don’t know whether to be angry with him or kiss him.
“As grateful as I am that you got them off my back, you should have told me.”
Miles responds on his friends behalf. “He was worried you would say no, so I told him just to do it anyway. We saw how much they upset you at that first dinner, and we could only imagine what your text interactions were like. I have to say, we were completely correct. Your family treats you like shit.”
I give him a sad nod as confirmation. Marcus, on the other hand, looks furious on my behalf.
“What? How are they treating her like shit? I’m going to kill them.”
“Calm down, caveman,” Miles laughs. “I’ve been dealing with them.”
“I’m not a caveman, but I want to know what they’ve been saying to Chloe.”
He bangs his fist on the table, not at all helping his argument that he’s not a caveman.
“As much as I appreciate you both protecting me, I can look after myself,” I state firmly, though I’m not entirely sure I believe it, and it’s clear neither man does either.
Miles seems to ignore us both, and continues with his rant.
“Your mother, who is a bitch, by the way, keeps harassing you about the wedding. She has asked a million questions that she claims the planner needs to know, but even when I’ve replied for you, she doesn't seem to care about your response.”
“You answered wedding planning questions for her?” Marcus asks, sounding a little amused.
“Look, there’s a good chance she’s not getting married anyway, so it doesn’t matter. Besides, she asked whether you wanted a maroon or peach colour scheme, and since nobody looks good in peach, I thought it was the obvious answer,” Miles replies, shrugging his shoulders dismissively.
“Peach?” I squeal. “She wants the colour scheme to be peach? Has she lost her damn mind?”
Miles chuckles, while Marcus flicks his gaze between the two of us.
“That’s what I told her. She’s an idiot thinking peach is a good idea,” Miles laughs.
“What else?” Marcus grinds out, clearly trying to change the conversation.
I guess the idea of me getting married isn’t something he wants to hear about. I can’t help but wonder if it’s just because I’m supposed to marry Scott, or the idea of marriage in general.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, it’s a bit early in…whatever the hell this is…to be thinking about marriage, I remind myself, whilst in the other part of my brain, I’m definitely thinking about whether Marcus would ever want to get married.
Miles winces as he says, “Scott has texted several times, and he’s also tried calling a lot too.”
“What does that shit-stain want?” Marcus growls.
“Pretty much the same as Fiona. He wants to finalise things for the wedding, but he also wants to discuss the ‘rules for the marriage’.”
On hearing Miles say the word rules , a shiver runs down my spine and I cringe.
“Him and those fucking rules.”
“What rules?” Marcus asks, his gaze locked on me, looking concerned by my reaction.
“He has a very long list of things that he expects from me, as his wife. He told me about a few of them the very first time we met, but I told him, if they were that important, he should put them into a document for me to look over before the wedding. A bit like a contract, I guess.
“Honestly, I just wanted him to stop talking to me about them, so I made it up to delay the conversation.”
I visibly shudder, thinking of the awful things I’m sure he’s added to the list.
Marcus turns to Miles, fixing him with a hard stare. “Is it as bad as I’m thinking?”
Miles winces, his face scrunching as he squirms in his seat.
“He only brought up a few that he wanted to clarify with Chloe, but I can imagine the whole document isn’t a great read.”
“Motherfucker,” Marcus snaps, hitting the table once more.
“I don’t want to go to any meetings about this fucking sham of a wedding,” I say, my voice low, giving away just how much it scares me that this might be my life some day soon.
“You don’t have to,” Marcus says, but Miles stops him.
“At some point, she may have to, so don’t make promises we don’t know for sure we can keep. We’ll do our best to delay or minimise them, but as part of the bet, you agreed to a meeting, closer to the final weeks here.”
Marcus glares at his best friend, who holds down his stare like it’s nothing. I shift in my seat, feeling uncomfortable enough for us all.
“So what do we do right now?” I ask, trying to diffuse the tension in the room.
Marcus goes to respond, but Miles holds up his hand to stop him. For just a fraction of a second, Marcus looks like he might stab him in his hand with the knife on his plate, but he takes a deep breath and lets it go.
Miles gives him a tight smile before turning to me.
“You guys have managed to avoid it since your parents got back, but they’ve been very insistent. You have to attend Sunday lunch tomorrow, so I’ve suggested a two birds, one stone type scenario.
“I’ve said you’ll talk about the wedding over lunch. It’s not ideal, but you have to attend anyway, and at least this way you know both Marcus and myself will be there to support you.”
I give him a smile as I nod. “Thank you. I guess, it’s the best of a bad situation.”
“Exactly,” Miles says, grabbing another spring roll and a barbecue rib. “Anyway, I’m going to leave you to finish your meal in peace. I’ll be here at twelve to drive us there for lunch tomorrow.”
“You can stay, if you’d like,” Marcus adds, shocking us both.
“Thanks, but I’ve got somewhere I need to be.”
As he stands, Marcus glares at his friend, seemingly unhappy with his response.
“Where?”
Miles rolls his eyes. “None of your business. Enjoy your evening.”
Before either of us can say anything, Miles has run down the hallway and he slams the door closed as he leaves. Marcus turns to me, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“He never keeps anything from me. Should I be worried? Maybe I should have someone follow him,” he muses, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
I reach over and take the phone from his hand, placing it on the table. I then lace my fingers through his, squeezing just enough to distract him.
“No, you will not have him followed. Whatever Miles is doing, he’ll tell you about it when he’s ready. For all you know, he’s seeing someone and wants to keep it private for now.”
That doesn’t seem to ease Marcus’ worries, as he continues to shuffle, his from deepening.
“If he’s seeing someone new, we’ll need to run a thorough background check. He knows the rules. It’s dangerous to go somewhere when nobody knows where you are.”
“Marcus, relax,” I tell him, stroking my thumb over the back of his hand in reassuring circles. “Miles knows all the safety rules, since he wrote most of them. He’s not stupid. Besides, he has GPS tracking on both his phone and his car, so we can find him if we need to—though we won’t need to.”
Marcus’ eyes light up, and I can’t help but groan.
“That’s a great idea, we can?—”
I cut him off by placing a kiss on his lips.
“Enough! Finish your food. When we’ve eaten, I want to go and take a soak in the giant jacuzzi bath in the main bathroom. I’ve always wondered what it feels like to have sex underwater.”
The fork he’s just picked up clatters onto the plate, and his piercing blue eyes darken. “Let’s go.”
“Don’t you want to finish eating?” I ask, pointing to his half-full plate.
He shakes his head. “We’ll reheat it when we’re done.”
Without saying anything more, he stands, dragging me behind him into the bathroom. I smile the whole way, pleased my plan to distract him has worked. I hope Miles is grateful.
Then again, it’s not exactly a hardship to let this gorgeous man ravish me in a jacuzzi, just to distract him from chasing down his friend. As plans go, this is one of my best ones.
When Miles shows up the next day to drive us to my parents house, Marcus is under strict instructions not to interrogate him.
I gave him a blowjob over breakfast, and promised he could do whatever he wanted with me when we return home, but in exchange, he couldn’t mention anything about yesterday to Miles.
I knew from the minute we climbed into the car that Miles was preparing for an onslaught, and he was shocked when no questions came.
He threw a smile at me through the rearview mirror, having worked out that I’m the one responsible for Marcus’ sudden character change.
It’s not a big deal. Besides, he’s been dealing with my family and Scott on my behalf, so I’m pretty sure he’s got the shittier end of the stick.
The drive to my parents’ house is annoyingly short, and by the time we arrive, my nerves are through the roof. My heart is racing so fast, there’s barely a gap between the beats.
No matter how hard I try to concentrate on my breathing, what started as slow, deep breaths are now close to hyperventilating. I’m also pretty sure I’m sweating in places I didn’t know I could sweat.
This time, I didn’t need any encouragement from Marcus to wear whatever I want. Without hesitating, I pulled on my skinny, blue ripped jeans, and a tight black vest, which showed a little more cleavage than usual, so I threw a baggy red and black plaid shirt over the top.
I added my trusty black and white Converse, that my mother has tried to throw away on numerous occasions, and I did my make-up the way I prefer.
After brushing my hair and leaving it down, I was done. One look in the mirror confirmed that what I was wearing would likely give my mother a heart attack, but I didn’t care.
I smiled when I saw Marcus dressed just as casually, his dark jeans and leather jacket making my breath catch in my throat.
Once we arrive at my family home, Marcus squeezes my hand. I hadn’t even realised he was holding it.
“Are you okay?”
I can tell by the concerned look in his eyes, he already knows the answer.
“I’m nervous, that’s all.”
“I promise, I won’t leave you alone with any of them. I’ll be there the whole time.”
At hearing his promise, I lean over and capture his lips with mine. It’s a deep, passionate kiss that says more than words ever could.
Dropping my gaze, my heart aches as I admit what’s on my mind.
“I hate that we have to pretend.” My voice is small and insecure, which obviously saddens Marcus.
He reaches over and grabs my chin, lifting my head until I’m forced to meet his gaze.
“It’s only temporary. One day, we’ll tell them the truth.”
I give him a small smile, trying to show that I believe him, when really my insecurities and doubt are overwhelming me.
“I know.”
Marcus’ gaze narrows, and I can tell he knows I’m lying, but thankfully, he doesn’t say anything more. Miles cuts the growing tension between us by opening the car door for me, offering me his hand, so I can climb out.
From the moment we step inside, the dinner is just as awful as the last. The only difference is that Jake isn’t here, which is both a blessing and a curse. Without him here, drunk off his arse, acting as a distraction, everyone is fixated on me.
With Jake’s usual chair now free, Miles quickly sits in it, gesturing for me to take the seat he was in last time, so I’m between Marcus and him. Scott is still opposite me, a prime position for him to glare at me, but at least he’s no longer in touching distance.
Mother insists I sit next to her, like last time, as she has so much wedding stuff to discuss with me. Thankfully, my dad insists that nobody move. He’s hungry, and doesn’t want to delay eating while people change seats, particularly when wedding talk can wait until afterwards.
I couldn’t have been more grateful, even if he’s thinking of his stomach rather than me.
The meal passes by relatively quickly, with Marcus and Miles doing a great job of distracting my mother and Scott whenever they try to talk about the wedding. Ewan and Dad are deep in conversation, so are none the wiser.
We try to leave as soon as the meal is over, but my parents wouldn’t allow it this time. They insist on us joining them for a drink in the parlour room, and Marcus is just as annoyed by this as I am.
It quickly becomes clear this was their plan all along, as Dad tries to distract Marcus while Mother pulls out a wedding planning book. She’s already filled in most of the pages, no doubt after ignoring all of the suggestions Miles made while he was pretending to be me.
I listen patiently as she goes through the book with me and Scott, but it’s hard to ignore the way he keeps shuffling closer to me, pressing himself against my side.
When I shoot him a glare, he claims he can’t see the book my mother is holding on the other side of me, but I know that’s bollocks, especially when he puts his hand on my thigh—which is exactly why I wore jeans. At least I don’t have to feel him on my bare flesh.
I grit my teeth and ignore the way he’s rubbing circles into my leg. I don’t need to look at Marcus to know he’s staring at me, I can feel his eyes on me.
“When do you think you’ll be free?” Mother asks, and I quickly realise I’ve missed most of what she’s been saying.
In an attempt to block out Scott, and ignore her, I appear to have missed something important.
“Sorry, what?”
Mother glares at me before rolling her eyes, looking at me with disgust.
“Really, Chloe. Were you listening to me at all?”
“I was,” I lie. “I just missed the question.”
She grinds her teeth, clearly not believing me.
“I said, we’re already cutting it fine as it is… You need to choose a wedding dress. I’m already going to have to pay a ridiculous rush fee, but if we leave it much later, you’ll end up wearing something off the rack, and there’s no way I could bear the humiliation of that.”
Both Marcus and Miles, who must have been listening to our conversation, begin to chuckle, quickly hiding behind their hands as they make it look like they were talking to each other. I can’t help but smile at them. My mother is being dramatic.
Had they not made me laugh, I would most likely be dissolving into a panic attack right now. The idea of picking out a wedding dress makes the whole thing seem so real, and I can’t think about that.
“I’m sure we’ll find something. You don’t need to worry,” I tell her, which only makes her glower at me more.
Scott chips in, supporting my mother. “Your dress is very important, Chloe. You need to look your best, as it’s a reflection on both me and your family.
“Besides, I’m sure you’ll love going dress shopping with your mother. You can even invite my mother and sister, they’re very fashion forward, and would make sure you looked your best for me. Since you don’t have any friends of your own, they’d be happy to step in.”
Even though his words sound friendly and caring, the subtext is more than clear. Each insult hits me deeper than the last.
There’s no way I’d enjoy dress shopping, especially if I’m with my mother. Adding his family in, who I’ve never met, would be even worse.
Then to point out my lack of friends… He may as well have cut me open and smiled as he watched me bleed.
I used to have friends, but I was made to stop seeing them, to concentrate on my role in this family. I hadn’t realised how much it bothers me until this moment.
Feeling an overwhelming urge to burst into tears, I spring to my feet. “Will you excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.”
I hear muttering around me, but I try to drown it out. Though when I hear a phone ring, I turn around to make sure it’s not mine. Marcus pulls his phone from his jacket pocket and checks the screen.
Since it’s not mine, I continue walking swiftly out of the room. I hear Marcus tell everyone he has to take the call, and I wonder for a moment what would be important enough for him to leave my family. Then another wave of emotions hit me, and the tears I’ve been trying to hold back break free, trickling down my face.
I keep moving down the hallway, but just before I reach the bathroom, someone grabs my arm and pulls me down one of the side corridors, until we reach the room at the end.
After my initial shock and yelp at being manhandled, I relax when I see it’s Marcus who grabbed me. He closes the door behind us and walks me across the room, pushing me against another door on the opposite wall. He crowds over me, trapping me between his hard body and the wooden door.
“Do you know what’s on the other side of this door?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly.
I blink away the tears before taking a look around the room, and after a few seconds, realisation hits.
“This is the sitting room that connects with our parlour room.”
“So, what’s behind this door?” he asks again.
“My family. It’s where we’re all having drinks.”
He reaches up to cup my cheek, swiping his thumb under my eyes to wipe away the tears. It’s an incredibly soft gesture, given how stern and dangerous he looks, his eyes almost black.
I can feel his barely restrained anger making his body vibrate, yet he touches me so gently.
“Don’t cry, love. They’re not worth your tears,” he tells me, before pressing his lips against my cheek.
“I hate him.” I try to fill the words with my hatred, but they come out like a sob.
“I know, so do I,” he says, as he continues to pepper little kisses over my cheek, across my jaw, and down my neck.
Making sure to suck on the sweet spot over my pulse, he then moves down to my collarbone, his kisses light as a feather.
My body heats up quickly, my stomach fluttering with each kiss, and I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
“Will you help me forget about them?”
He pulls back just far enough to make eye contact, and the way he stares at me makes me feel like he’s trying to see into my soul.
“If we do this, we don’t have time to be slow or gentle.”
I nod my head rapidly. “I don’t want that. I want you to show me how much you hate him.”
His smile turns deadly as he attacks my lips with his, kissing me with fierce passion as he pulls off my shirt. He releases my lips just long enough to pull my vest and bra off, and then he’s back on me .
He drags his lips over my neck, down to my breasts, while he reaches down and pops the button on my jeans, pulling the zipper down at the same time. As he takes one of my nipples into his mouth, grazing over it with his teeth, he pulls my jeans down to my ankles, and I quickly kick them off.
The more he pulls and bites my nipples, the harder it is for me to remain quiet. The rapid onslaught of sensations floods my senses, and I can’t stop myself from moaning.
Marcus quickly spins me around, gently pushing me against the door until my tits and cheek are squashed into the wood.
“You need to be quiet, Mio. If you keep making noises, they’ll know what I’m doing to you,” he whispers into my ear, as one hand massages my arse cheek, while the other tugs at my peaked nipple.
“Can we… Can we go to the other side of the room?” I ask frantically as he presses against my lower back, forcing me to arch my back.
Once I do, my pussy is on display for him, and the cool air hitting my heated flesh sends goosebumps over my skin.
Marcus rocks his denim-covered cock against my exposed pussy as he leans over my back, his clothes feeling rough against my smooth skin. He grabs my ear lobe between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth.
“Not a chance, slut. I’m going to fuck you against this door, and you’re going to be a good little whore and make sure we don’t get caught.”
“But what if they hear us,” I gasp, my voice getting higher as panic sets in.
“You better make sure they don’t.”
As soon as he says the words, he presses two of his fingers into my pussy.
I wasn’t expecting the sudden intrusion, and I gasp loudly, before quickly moving one of my hands to cover my mouth. After all those sweet little kisses, and the thought of us being caught, I’m more than ready for him.
“You’re so wet already, slut. Is it all for me?” he growls, rubbing his thumb against my clit as he quickly thrusts his fingers in deeper.
His movements are fast and deep, hitting just the right places, and my head is spinning. I’m aware he just asked me a question, but my brain is too distracted to formulate a reply.
Marcus slaps my arse cheek, hard, causing me to yelp into my hand. Where he hit me stings, but I’m surprised by how much I liked adding that little bit of pain into my pleasure.
“Fuck, you liked that, didn’t you, Mio? Your cunt tightened around my fingers and you got even wetter,” he whispers into my ear, my eyes fluttering closed from all the stimulation. “Answer me, or I’ll hit you again.”
“Yes,” I breathe. “I liked it. ”
Marcus chuckles against my ear, curling his fingers as he drags them over the spot that drives me crazy.
“And is it me that got you all hot and wet?”
I nod my head as best I can against the door with my hand over my mouth. “Yes. It’s always all for you.”
Marcus’ smile widens as I feel my body building towards my release. I’m panting, rocking back against his fingers, chasing down that high.
Marcus reaches up with his free hand and pulls my hand away from my mouth. I look at him in panic, but he quickly places his own hand there instead.
I brace my hand against the door using it as momentum to help me push back against him, and it’s not long until I’m whimpering into his hand.
Just as I feel my release approaching, he removes his fingers, leaving my pussy empty and throbbing.
“Please,” I beg, my eyes wide open as I plead with him.
I don’t need to beg for long. Before I even realise what he’s doing, he replaces his fingers with his cock, sliding into me in one quick movement. I groan against his hand, feeling full and stretched open, aching at the speed of his intrusion.
Marcus pauses for just a second, and I hear him pulling in slow, deep breaths beside my ear. I smile at the thought that he’s just as affected by this as I am, trying desperately not to lose control too quickly.
Unfortunately, we don’t have the luxury of time. The longer we’re in here, the higher chance we have of getting caught. Once I’ve gotten used to the fullness, I rock my hips, grinding against him in a way that pushes him deeper.
“Fuck me,” I whisper.
“My pleasure, Mio,” Marcus growls, before he begins his relentless thrusts.
Unlike usual, he doesn’t start slow and build, teasing me to the point of frustration. We don’t have time for that, so he moves straight to the deep, full strokes that speed up with each thrust.
It’s not long until he’s slamming into me relentlessly, his cock dragging against my walls as he drives me crazy.
His hand over my mouth covers some of the noises coming out of me, but I have to move my hands onto the wall on either side of the door, to push against, to stop my body from slamming into it too much.
Marcus is thrusting into me with such vigour, the door would be rattling off its hinges if I didn’t stop it.
“Your tight little cunt fits around me like a glove, love. It’s like you were made for me,” Marcus says, pressing kisses across my shoulders and back.
“We were made for each other,” I mumble back.
“We fucking were. Now I want you to show me how much of a whore you really are. Do you want to come with your family in the next room?” he asks, and I nod my head as best I can.
“Yes, please.”
I’m close, but I’m not quite there yet, and I’m sure Marcus knows that, since he’s become very in tune with my body over the last few weeks.
With the hand that’s covering my lips, he slowly slides one of his fingers into my mouth, and I don’t hesitate to suck on it like I’d do his cock. His groan vibrates through me, and I suck harder.
He kisses the spot on my neck that drives me crazy, while his thumb circles my clit, and I’m so distracted, I almost miss the cold, wet sensation on my arse. Though, I don’t miss him taking his hand off my mouth, pulling his finger out.
I turn my head a little more and see him dribbling spit down into the crack of my arse. Before I can ask him about it, he parts my arse cheeks with his hand.
I watch, completely mesmerised, as he runs the finger that is wet from being in my mouth, over my arsehole.
My eyes widen and my body tenses when I realise what he’s about to do.
“Relax. Trust me.”
As soon as he says that, I try to release all of the tension in my muscles. I do trust him, and I know he’d never hurt me.
Besides, I’ve said this is something I’m open to trying, I just didn’t picture this scenario for my first time.
He spreads my own spit with his, making sure my puckered hole is wet, before he begins pressing one finger in. His cock slows, pushing into my pussy in slow, deep thrusts as he works his finger into my arse.
“Relax, love,” he reminds me again, before reaching underneath me, pressing on my clit.
That’s all I need to get lost in the sensations, and as soon as I relax enough, Marcus presses his finger all the way in. I feel so incredibly full, and all of the stimulation happening at once quickly becomes overwhelming.
Marcus only gives me a second to get used to his finger, before he leans over and whispers in my ear again.
“Use a hand to cover your mouth, or everyone will hear you. I’m going to show you what a dirty whore you really are. I’m going to make you come with a cock deep in your cunt and a finger in your arse.”
I shudder at his words, and he begins his relentless onslaught, manipulating my body to his will.
His cock ploughs into me over and over, hitting me deep inside each time, while his balls bounce off my clit, sending shivers of pleasure through me each time.
His finger in my arse eventually stops stinging and starts to feel fucking amazing, enhancing the full feeling his cock gives me. I bounce back against him, loving the way he presses into me, claiming both my holes.
It doesn’t take long at this speed for me to feel my orgasm approaching.
“Can I come?” I mutter beneath my hand.
“Yes,” Marcus groans. “Come with my finger in your arse, slut.”
His filthy words have their usual effect, and my orgasm hits me. It’s like fire rushes through my veins, heating me up as my body tenses, shuddering as the pleasure ripples through me.
“Marcus,” I cry out, louder than I intended, even with my hand in place.
As soon as my pussy stops clinging to him, he begins his long, quick strokes, and he only needs a couple before he’s grunting against my back, his cum spilling into me.
“Fuck. Take my cum, slut. Do you like when I come in your tight little cunt? Claiming you as mine?”
I nod my head, pressing my arse back against him, keeping him deep inside me for as long as I can.
“Yes. I need your cum.”
We both stay there, panting desperately as Marcus practically holds me up, my legs having turned to jello moments before. As we both catch our breath, he pulls his finger slowly out of my arse, before doing the same with his cock.
I feel his cum seeping out, dripping down my thighs. Marcus must notice it too as he reaches down and scoops it up, gathering his cum on his fingers before he gently presses them back into my sensitive pussy. I whimper, and he rubs my arse reassuringly.
“I don’t want you wasting any of my cum. Put your knickers on quickly. I want to know when that fucker, Scott, is talking to you that your dirty cunt is covered with my cum.”
He keeps a hand on me until he’s sure I’m sturdy enough to stand on my own. He helps me dress, making sure all his cum is where it should be.
Once we’re dressed, looking as presentable as we can with kiss-stung lips and rosy cheeks, we head towards the door we came in through—not the one I just came on!
I take a deep breath, not wanting to bring up a subject I know will piss him off, but I have to say it.
“Just in case you didn’t know, I don't want to talk about the wedding with them.”
Marcus gives me a tight smile. “I know. Every time one of them talked about you trying on wedding dresses, it made me want to pull my gun and shoot them. I hate the idea of you trying on a wedding dress.”
I drop my gaze, my heart sinking. “White’s not really my colour. ”
He reaches out and puts his finger under my chin, forcing me to look at him again.
“That’s not it, Chloe. I don’t want to think about you choosing a dress that you’ll wear walking down the aisle to Scott, or any other man, for that matter. The only time you’re going to put on a wedding dress is if I’m the one at the end of the aisle.”
My breath catches at the intensity of his words, my heart beating so hard I’m surprised it’s not broken out of my chest. I try to find the words for such a momentous statement, but before I can, Marcus gives me a short yet passionate kiss.
“We better get back. I’ll go first, you follow in a couple of minutes.”
I nod my head in agreement, needing to use the time after he’s gone to compose myself.
Did he just imply he wants to marry me one day? Or was it just another of his possessive statements?
The little girl that’s been dreaming about becoming Mrs Morelli since the age of eight, when she first put a pillowcase on her head, pretending it was a veil, knows which she’s hoping for.
Once I’ve pulled myself together, I go back into the parlour room. Mother glares at me, but everyone else is deep in conversation, barely having noticed my absence. Scott must have grown bored with Mother and is now brown-nosing with my dad.
Thankfully, not long after my return, Marcus announces it’s time for us to leave. Just as I’m almost free and out of the door, my mother stops me, grabbing me by the arm.
“Since you haven’t given me a firm date, I’ve looked at my diary and chosen for you. I will make an appointment for Wednesday morning for us to go dress shopping.”
I look down at where she’s gripping my arm, glaring at her until she has the good sense to remove it. I feel Marcus place his hand against my lower back, and it’s just what I need to draw strength from.
“I can’t do that day, I have class.”
“What class?” Mother stutters, both Dad and Scott looking equally as confused.
“I’ve started taking baking and cake decorating classes. I’ve gotten quite good, and I really enjoy it,” I tell them, holding my head high with pride as I admit that it’s something I’m skilled in.
Scott looks furious. “Why on Earth are you wasting your time with stuff like that? ”
I roll my eyes. “Because I enjoy it. I’m thinking of starting my own celebration cake business.”
Scott lets out a dark laugh, as my mother dramatically gasps.
“I can’t stop you from wasting your time right now, but I can assure you, when we are married, you won’t be messing around with such ridiculous notions.”
“Why would you need to start a business, Chloe? Scott will provide for you,” my mother cries, holding her hand to her chest dramatically.
“Well, I think it’s a great idea,” Miles cheerfully chimes in, breaking the growing tension.
“We should be going,” I add quickly, before anyone else can give me tips about my life.
“This isn’t over, Chloe. We will need to discuss this,” Scott snarls.
Marcus steps towards him, but I grab his arm, pulling him away. I shout goodbye over my shoulder, rushing to get into the car. I can feel the rage vibrating off Marcus, and I’m barely holding it together myself.
The drive home is awkward and silent, neither of us wanting to be the first to speak. Once Miles pulls into our garage, we mutter our goodbyes to him and head inside. As soon as the door is closed, Marcus takes my hand and pulls me into the kitchen.
He goes over to one of the drawers that we rarely use and pulls out an envelope, which he places on the kitchen island before sliding it over to me. As I go to pick it up, Marcus breaks the silence.
“Open it.”
“What is it?” I ask, looking at the blank envelope with intrigue and a little nerves.
“What Scott said pissed me off so much, but I was more proud that you finally told your family about your baking. I’ve watched you fall in love with it, but you’ve never said you wanted to make a career out of it, until today,” he explains.
I shrug my shoulders and give him a tight smile. “I’ve never really believed I could choose this as something for me.”
Marcus’ smile widens. “I’ve always believed… Open it.”
I quickly open the envelope and pull out a cheque. It’s for a thousand pounds, and it’s made out to Chloe’s Charming Cakes. But the bit that really has me choked up is the date in the corner.
“You wrote this cheque over a month ago?”
He nods. “After your first cake class. I knew this was what you were supposed to be doing with your life, I was just waiting for you to realise. ”
I throw myself at Marcus, who quickly catches me, letting me wrap my legs around his waist as I attack his mouth. I kiss him with everything I have.
When I pull back, letting him see the tears that are building, I smile for him.
“Thank you. You don’t have to give me money. Just knowing you believe in me is enough.”
He kisses me again. “This is me investing in you. Take the money and buy what you need to build your business. Consider me a silent partner. You don’t have to keep the name, it’s just the first thing I could think of,” he admits, his cheeks flushing in a way that almost makes me blurt out those three little words, but we’re not ready for that yet.
“I love the name.” It’s not quite what I wanted to say, but close enough. “You can be a partner in my business, as long as you promise to be my partner in life too.”
I don’t know where that came from. I was so busy trying not to tell him I love him, I say that instead.
We’ve been saying we belong to each other, and Marcus has said he doesn’t want this to end, but we’ve never talked about the reasons why we can’t be together. Marcus has said he thinks I’m worth the risk, but we’ve never labelled anything.
After he mentioned marriage today, I couldn’t hold back. I expect him to freak out, to put me down and walk away, but he doesn’t. He places a sweet kiss on my forehead, giving me that smile that makes my legs go weak.
“I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me,” he says, and I can’t stop my eyes from going wide.
“Really? What about the peace treaty, and the arrangement with Scott?”
He shrugs his shoulders as best he can with me wrapped around him.
“I don’t really give a fuck. I will take on anyone who tries to stop us from being together.”
“I’m yours too, for as long as you want me,” I tell him, and he captures my lips with his, walking us towards his bedroom— our bedroom.
Although his kisses are distracting me, I allow myself a giddy moment to truly be happy. I’ve got the guy, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to be with me.
I just hope we can deal with whatever comes our way, as once people find out about us, it’s not going to be an easy road. But at least we can deal with it together.