“I’m still not…” I lick my dry lips. “This doesn’t mean I’m moving in with you.”
Something hot and dark blazes in the cool depths of his eyes before he veils the expression. “Understood,” he says roughly, and before I can clarify what he means, he dips his head and covers my lips with his.
My mouth opens on a startled gasp, and his tongue invades with unapologetic fierceness as he maneuvers us toward the bed, yanking off our clothes on the way. Gone is the tender man who would’ve let me walk out of the room, and I realize he was never there in the first place. It was always this ruthless conqueror, a savage determined to consume me.
The real Marcus Carelli.
As our clothes hit the floor, his hands skate over my curves with possessive greed, his palms hot and rough on my bare skin, and I respond with the same dark fervor, my hurt and anger transforming into blinding lust. It feels like mere seconds before we end up fully naked on the bed, with him on top of me and my wrists pinned to the bed next to my shoulders as he devours my mouth, swallowing my panting breaths. His large, hard-muscled body is warm and heavy over me, his cock smooth and hard against my inner thigh as he wedges his knees between my legs, opening them wide. His mouth moves over to nibble on my earlobe, then trails down my neck, sucking and biting, and I feel like I’m burning, like I might combust from the dizzying need. By the time he reaches my breasts, my entire body is covered with delicious goosebumps, and I’m so turned on I feel the slickness on my thighs.
“Please,” I moan as his hot, wet mouth clamps over my peaked nipple, sucking on it with a strong pull. “Please, oh please, Marcus, just… Oh God, yes, right there.” My eyes squeeze shut, my hips lifting off the bed as he releases my wrists and moves one hand down to my aching clit, manipulating it with unerring skill. Freed, my hands fall to my sides, only to spasmodically fist the blanket as the tension inside me coils unbearably, the pleasure spiking in a dark crescendo.
I’m almost there, almost at the peak, when the fingers withdraw and his lips return to mine, stifling my moans. Kissing me deeply, he guides his cock to my entrance and slowly, ever so slowly, presses in.
He’s big—God, I almost forgot how big he is—and despite the abundant slickness, there’s an almost painful stretch as he sinks into me, penetrating me with exquisite gentleness. My hands fly up to grip his sides, my muscles tensing as the stretch threatens to turn into a burn. I can feel every thick inch of him, and my body quivers with the effort to accept him. At the same time, his kisses are driving me wild, his tongue tangling with mine with a sensual ferocity that only emphasizes the care he’s taking by entering me so slowly.
Finally, he’s all the way in, his balls pressing against my bottom, and as he pushes up onto his elbows to gaze down at me, I see that his face is sheened with sweat, his hard jaw tense. “You okay?” he asks raggedly, and I nod, unable to speak. He’s so deep in me I feel as if we’re one, as if something more than our bodies is joined together. With his face mere inches away and his blue eyes locked on mine, the intimacy is almost unbearable.
This is more than great sex, and the realization terrifies me.
“Good,” he breathes, and holding my gaze, he begins to move inside me.
At first, his thrusts are carefully controlled, but as my body adjusts to him, he picks up the pace, going deeper and harder with each stroke. His powerful obliques flex in my grip, and the heated tension coils in me again, my arousal spiraling higher with each stroke. With a cry, I come, shattering around him, but he doesn’t slow down, doesn’t stop, and the second orgasm builds before the aftershocks from the first fade. He’s now hammering into me, his gaze ruthlessly intent on my face, and I feel like I can see straight into his soul, right into the merciless core of him.
The second orgasm crashes into me without warning, the sensations hitting in a tidal wave. Every muscle, inside and out, clenches and releases, my toes curling uncontrollably and my nails digging into his sides as I cry out. The peak of pleasure seems to go on forever, the contractions so prolonged it feels like they’ll never stop. I can feel myself squeezing rhythmically around him, again and again, and I see the exact moment it sends him over the edge.
With a guttural groan, he throws back his head, the chords in his muscular neck straining as he thrusts all the way into me and stills, his eyes squeezing shut as his thick cock pulses deep within me, flooding me with liquid warmth. The sensation is strangely entrancing, and I shudder as my inner muscles squeeze again, wringing out the remaining drops of pleasure.