She is ripe and in need of fucking.
Tucker wondered if he could defy the rules and ejaculate simply from looking at his beautiful mate, without even drinking from her first. He seemed poised on the edge of doing just that, his dick stretching the fly of his jeans, his balls throbbing with weight.
He watched in a trance as Mary tucked her thumbs into the elastic of her panties and peeled them slowly down her legs, leaning forward as she did so, letting him see everything. Everything he couldn’t have. The tender lips of her sex, wet and taut. Dusted with a blush.
“Mary,” he growled, gripping the ridge of his shaft, dragging his palm up and down the length of it. “I can’t get relief from the torture.”
Not unless I drink you first.
Even though he didn’t say the last part out loud, Mary seemed to sense that Tucker had left something unspoken. She turned her head just enough that he could see the line between her brows. And it was so tempting to come clean. To tell her the truth. Keeping important facts from her made him feel ill. Throw in the intimacy of this house, the almost dreamlike sensation of being a married couple, and it made his tongue loose. Too loose.
“I’ll get your things,” he said, stepping into the hallway and closing the door.
But when he would have exited the house to retrieve her suitcase, Tucker went to the fridge instead and threw it open, heaving a sound of relief to find it stocked with blood. Falling to his knees, he gorged himself, bag after bag. And when it was all over, not a single dent had been made in his hunger for Mary.
Chapter 9
Mary sank down into the hot water and tried to feel guilty.
Really, she did.
Causing Tucker pain was the last thing she wanted to do. He was kind and gentle and funny and understanding and wonderful. Why did torturing him make Mary feel…exultant?
As if she was doing something important?
Standing naked in front of Tucker didn’t just strike her as an inevitability. It had been almost necessary to go on breathing. When this man did something to push her away, an intuition inside of Mary whispered get closer. A persuasive voice that came from the same place that loved Tucker coming to her defense, guarding her, fighting on her behalf. And that place was only expanding, minute to minute.
She lifted her hand out of the water, pressing warm fingertips to her lips, and remembered the feel of Tucker’s mouth there. How he’d struggled to taste as much of her as possible, while keeping himself restrained, trying to keep his lust at bay but never really succeeding. The way his mouth had traversed hers in awe, his fingers adoring between her thighs.
Mary dropped her hand back into the water now, settling a palm on top of her mound. Pushing down on her sex with the heel of it, the way Tucker had done, her legs opening and creating the sound of water rippling in the quiet bathroom. She ground the back of her skull against the back of the tub and rubbed her fist up and back, biting her lip over the friction. Lord, she was still so sensitive there. More sensitive than she’d ever been—
A door slammed outside the bathroom and she jumped.
Footsteps went past the bathroom door and returned a moment later, pacing.
“That’s enough of that, Mary.”
There was no questioning what Tucker meant. It was right there in the threadbare tone of his voice. Somehow he knew Mary was touching herself and he wanted her to stop. And honestly, he didn’t have the right to dictate when and how she touched her own body, but her hand crept away from her private flesh nonetheless. The tips of her breasts rose out of the water on a deep inhale and her hips shifted.
I don’t understand, but I like this.
Sharing responsibility for her pleasure with this man. It made no sense, but so little of what Tucker inspired in her was familiar. What could she compare it to? These were confusing, yet extremely demanding emotions and physical responses that she couldn’t control.
Swallowing, she rested her culprit hand on the edge of the bath.
Something thumped against the door. His forehead? “Good girl.”
A hot shiver ran through Mary, straight down to her toes. “What clothes did you pick out for me?”
“I thought you might want to sleep soon, so I brought you…” A pause ensued. “I brought you one of my shirts. It’ll swallow you whole, but you didn’t have any pajamas.”
“I didn’t even think of that, actually. I’ve never had to pack.” She struggled against touching herself again. “I’ll like wearing one of your shirts.”
They didn’t speak for a full minute.
There was another thump, this one more muffled. “Are you sitting down?” she asked.