state, but I do, and the heat inside me grows into a conflagration as my hands slide across the broad, muscled planes of his chest and back. He’s warm and hard all over, his smooth skin roughened only by the sprinkling of coarse hair near his flat nipples and the happy trail running down his ridged stomach. His abs feel like they’ve been carved from stone, each one delineated so perfectly that I want to slow things down so I can stare at him and drool. But he’s already pulling off my sweater and too-tight jeans, along with my socks and the one boot, and all thoughts of slowing down evaporate as he buries his hand in my hair and kisses me again, his tongue sweeping into my mouth with fierce hunger as his free hand slides down my body and delves under my soaked panties.
Yes, oh God, yes, right there. I want to scream the words from the rooftops as he unerringly finds my throbbing clit, but all I can manage is a ragged gasp against his lips, my vocal cords locking up along with every muscle in my body. My eyes squeeze shut, and I arch against him, writhing and panting, my nails digging into his sides as his thumb presses on the swollen bundle of nerves and starts moving in a cruelly teasing circle. I’m close, so very, very close—
“Look at me,” he orders, lifting his head, and my eyes snap open, meeting his gaze as his index finger dips lower, smearing the wetness along the rim of my entrance while his thumb continues its exquisite torment of my clit. His eyes are dark and hungry as he says hoarsely, “I want to watch you come.”
Yes, oh yes, please. The possessive note in his deep voice adds to the unbearable tension coiling in me, and I hover on the edge for a delicious second before the pressure from his thumb increases and I go over it with a choked scream.
The release is like a bomb going off inside my body, imploding everything in its way. The pleasure pulses violently through my nerve endings, ripples of sensation pounding at every cell. And all the while he watches me, his gaze locked on mine with dark triumph—and his own fiercely growing need.
28
Emma
The aftershocks are still hammering my core when Marcus reaches up and unhooks my bra, then lowers his head to close his lips around my right nipple as soon as my breasts are bared. The lash of sensation is almost cruel, his hot, wet mouth sucking so strongly that I cry out, gripping his hair in agony-edged pleasure as my eyes squeeze closed once again. But he’s relentless, and to my shock, a renewed throbbing starts low in my core, the tension growing again. I’ve never come twice during sex before, only on my own with my vibrator, but I realize that it’s possible with Marcus.
In fact, it’s inescapable.
He turns his attention to my other breast, sucking on my nipple with strong pulls as his hand travels lower, to my soaked underwear. He tugs the panties down my legs; then his fingers return to my folds. Only this time, he doesn’t tease. Laving my nipple with his tongue, he penetrates me with one long, thick finger, pushing deep as his thumb presses on my clit.
I combust. There’s no other word for it.
Somehow, my first orgasm had only primed me for this, and my entire body spasms with white-hot pleasure as I cry out, bucking underneath him. The wet heat of his mouth on my breast, the feel of his big finger so deep inside me, the heavy weight of him pressing down on my legs—it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.
I need more.
I need him in me.
“Yes, you do,” he growls, and my eyes fly open to meet his burning gaze.
I must’ve said the words aloud. Normally, the knowledge would make me flush all over, but I’m too far gone to care—and judging by the tight cast of Marcus’s hard features, mocking me is the last thing on his mind.
He’s still wearing his pants and belt, and our hands collide as we reach for the buckle at the same time. It would be funny, except I’m so aroused the delay is the worst kind of torture. I feel as if the two orgasms had only whetted my appetite, as if now that I’ve had a taste, I can’t stop until I devour the main