Wall Street Titan (Wall Street Titan #1) - Anna Zaires Page 0,78

tight ring of muscle, his hands grip my buttocks and pull them apart, opening me wide.

“Your asshole is so fucking pretty,” he growls, lifting his head, and with a burning wave of mortification, I realize he’s looking right into my ass, the inside of it. The embarrassment is so intense I feel like I might burst into flames, and at the same time, I’m so turned on my arousal is leaking down my thighs.

“I’m going to fuck your tight little hole. Soon,” he promises hoarsely, and before I can react, he lowers his head and pushes his tongue into me, my spread-apart cheeks preventing me from clenching to resist his entry. His tongue penetrates me, thick and slippery and oddly muscular, and as it pushes deep, I feel like I might explode from the shame of it… and the dark, dark pleasure coursing through my body.

There’s no pain, but there is a disconcerting fullness, a feeling of wrongness that only exacerbates the perverse eroticism of it all. Groaning against the pillow, I press my hips into the blanket, desperately needing to rub my throbbing clit on something… anything. Just the slightest pressure would send me over the edge, dissolving this maddening, delicious tension. His tongue is thrusting in and out, fucking me like a cock, and it’s too much yet not nearly enough. I’m dying, burning up from the mortifying need, and it’s almost a relief when the slippery tongue withdraws and a big, rough finger pushes in instead, using the lubrication left behind.

It’s not as thick as his tongue, but it’s longer, and I feel the shock of it, the immediate resistance of my body to the intrusion of a foreign object. My insides clench, and even with my cheeks held open, the hard edges of the nail dig into tender tissues, making my nerve endings sing in pain. Except it’s not all pain—somehow, it’s also pleasure—and I cry out as the tension grows unbearably, all my muscles tightening with coiling need.

“Yes, that’s it…” Marcus’s voice is a low, dark rasp as the finger curves inside me. “Come for me, kitten.” And as he releases my cheeks to pinch my aching clit, I explode, my entire body spasming with the agonizing pleasure of release. It’s so intense my vision cuts out for a hazy moment, and when I come to, I hear him groan behind me and feel the hot splash of his seed on my ass.

I’m still blushing during breakfast—partially because I can’t look at Marcus’s mouth without thinking about where his tongue has been. We’re standing in my kitchen, eating oatmeal with nuts and berries, and each time Marcus bites into a strawberry and licks the juices off his lips, I feel heat creeping up my cheeks.

It doesn’t help that all three of my cats are staring at me with judgey eyes—as they have been all morning.

“What?” I snap at Mr. Puffs when I can’t take it anymore, and he swishes his tail and stalks off—leaving his siblings to provide the proper dose of slut shaming.

“They’re not used to you having sex in front of them, are they?” Marcus says dryly, and I laugh, realizing I’m not the only one who’s feeling the weight of feline judgement this morning.

“They’re not,” I admit, grinning. “In fact, this may be only their second exposure to human sex—the first being Friday night.”

“Good. I’m glad.” His voice turns husky as he sets his empty bowl on the counter. “I wouldn’t want them traumatized by seeing it done improperly.”

I feel another blush coming on, but I raise my eyebrows, determined to play it cool. “Who says it would’ve been done improperly? I’ve had good sex before.” Or what I thought was good sex before I met Marcus, but I’m not about to inflate his ego any further.

It already matches the size of his “magic” appendage.

“Oh, really?” His blue eyes narrow. “Do tell.”

I set my bowl down and cross my arms over my chest. “You first.” Not that I actually want to know about all the hundreds of beautiful women he’s slept with, but I’m not talking about my woefully short sexual history without making him squirm at least a little.

To my surprise, he doesn’t laugh off my demand or reply with something cocky. Nor does he look the least bit uncomfortable with the topic. “Since losing my virginity at fifteen, I’ve had sex with a number of female partners,” he says calmly, picking up his coffee. “Mostly in the context of casual