But I don't want to say no. I want more. "Don't stop."
He still hesitates for a moment as if he's considering something before he acts. Nodding to himself, confirming my suspicion, he reaches for my ankles and pulls me down flat on the couch.
It startles me enough that I yelp even as I slide onto my back. "What the heck are you doing?"
"Shh. Quiet," he demands.
I kinda want to know where he's going with this, so I go along with it.
Slowly, giving me every chance to change my mind, Marcus kneels on the floor before bending over to resume our makeout session. I melt into it, and when fingertips brush the skin exposed where my tank top has ridden up, I still don't protest.
Except they only briefly trace around my stomach before slipping downward and into my pants but still on top of my panties. It's not quite damp enough down there to wet through them, but I'm definitely turned on. When I rock my hips toward his hand, he nips a spot on my lip before sliding his other into the back of my hair.
Gripping it tight, he tugs back, making me arch my spine to expose my throat. Then he works his way down until he reaches the top of my shirt. Swiftly, he removes his hand from my pants to tug the low-cut neckline down under my breasts, fully revealing them to the air
His hot mouth doesn't waste any time closing around my nipple where he sucks and nibbles until I'm nearly ready to beg for more. Marcus stops again, pulling completely back, and I'm disappointed to think that he isn't going to continue. But he only moves long enough to grab the waistband of my pants, along with my underwear, to pull them down and completely remove them.
I momentarily worry about being so exposed where anyone can walk in and find us, but I no longer care when his mouth returns to my chest, and his hand finds my now very wet center. A gasp escapes my lips as he draws moisture up from my opening, trailing it around my clit in firm circles. I'm lost in sensation as he switches sides, leaving the wet tip of the abandoned breast to cool in the air of the room. The temperature change just heightens the feelings he's eliciting. I'm becoming impatient with his teasing finger between my legs though, and he seems to understand my predicament. Shifting his fingers down, he slides into my wet heat and thrusts them deep causing my hips to arch into them.
I make nonsensical noises of encouragement to urge him to keep on, and he does. Hard and deep, he rapidly moves them in and out, hitting my clit with the heel of his hand on each upstroke. By now, I'm panting and still trying to reach that so-elusive little bit more that I need.
Marcus picks his head up from my breast, lips slightly swollen from using them so expertly, and pauses with his fingers delved deep in me.
"How rough can you handle?"
I'm slightly taken aback at the question, unsure what he means until he flexes his buried fingers in me and grinds hard with the heel of his hand again.
Getting the gist of it, I reassure him that I'm okay. "I'm good to go. If something gets uncomfortable, I'll let you know." The husky notes in my voice reveal how very okay I am, and he takes me at my word.
Marcus shifts his hand, where he's been gripping my hair, down to curl around my shoulder so he's nearly cradling me, with my head tipped back over the bend in his elbow. He dives back down, capturing my lips and adding a third finger between my legs before he starts a rapid thrusting with his hand that has my hips arching up off the couch and one leg slipping down to the floor to brace my foot on it for leverage. As I'm getting closer to the finish line, my breathing becomes more erratic— between his oxygen stealing kisses and the pounding he's delivering between my legs, it's hard to take a full breath.
When he crooks a finger inside while keeping the others extended, I take up thrusting in earnest against his hand. The repetitive impact is hard enough that I know I'll be feeling it later, but it will be a pleasant ache. My orgasm builds swiftly until it bursts over me in a wave of euphoria while my muscles clamp down on his fingers. I continue to ride his hand as a rumble of male appreciation reverberates through the skin of my neck where Marcus is sucking and biting. The digits gentle inside me, soothing the aftershocks until I'm limp with pleasure on the cushions.
He only lets me rest for a moment before pulling my hips to the edge and sitting up on his knees, proceeding to bury his head between my thighs. My hands grip his thick hair that's grown out enough to get a decent hold while he softly licks the slick mess from my sex.
Alternating between that and plunging his tongue deep inside, he spends long minutes seemingly enjoying himself with his arms curled around my legs to hold me in place. I'm nearly too sensitive and consider stopping him, but the pleasure seems to be building again in a slow spiral. I really do almost protest when he pulls back, giving me a reprieve to drag his tongue across the brand on my leg— then I remember he has one too and probably understands exactly how I feel about it. Deciding it's his odd brand of affection, I relax and accept, but he is not as gentle when he turns to the other side— sucking hard on the opposite thigh nearly on the juncture of my leg leading to my pussy. That's definitely a spot I didn't know I had, or maybe I just don't remember, but it pulls a new sound from my throat that has him glancing up and me blushing.
With a self-satisfied grin, he returns his attention to my center— licking long strips from my opening to my clit where he briefly sucks, only to start over again and again. One of his arms has disappeared without me noticing until he pulls back and sits up straight on his knees right as I'm getting close to another orgasm.
"Don't stop now, dammit."
Marcus doesn't answer me, and I see he has his well above average dick out, stroking it in firm quick pulls. I'm debating offering to take care of him in a different way than actual intercourse as I'm not sure I'm up for that yet, but before I can decide, he slips his fingers back in, slowly working them until I'm right back on that edge.
He keeps it up, not giving me quite enough to get over it, while he continues to pleasure himself inches away from his dick touching my pussy. I think he's finally going to let me come when his fingers still inside me. Instead, he points his dick at the source of my frustration and continues to jack himself off until he comes with hot spurts across my pussy and the hand still buried in me. As he finishes, he slips his fingers out to trail them through the mess he's just made and plunges them back in, quickly moving in and out to work me up to a frenzy— then the fucker pulls out right as I tighten with my impending orgasm.
As I glare up at him, he sucks his fingers off, gives me a pat on one of my still sprawled thighs, and stands to button his pants.
I can only gape, red-faced and sweaty in incredulity as he says one word, "Mine," and proceeds to walk out the door— leaving me hanging. I think maybe he's coming back, but after a few minutes with the moisture cooling on my skin, as well as between my legs, the realization dawns that he's not.
Indignant, I get up, and am grateful the couch is leather; because while I didn't make the biggest mess ever, there's still evidence of what we had been up to on the cushion. After pulling on my pants and tucking my boobs back in my shirt, I use some tissues from the box on the table— first on myself and then on the couch. Annoyed as hell and all worked up, I sneak to the bathroom around the corner and find some cleaning spray under the bathroom cabinet. After washing my hands, I go back to the couch and wipe it down. Hopefully it's okay to use on leather; otherwise, I don't know what to tell Marcus, but he'll have to explain it.
As soon as I catch up to that ass he's going to get a piece of my mind for leaving me hanging. I mutter to myself while I hunt him down, except when I check around, I don't find him, and I don't want to exactly go knock on his and Apollo's door where I start to suspect he's hiding.