Authors: Erin Nicholas
She licked her lips, took a deep breath and said, “I see.”
His heart thumped. “Say yes.”
She smiled a smile that made him imagine her naked and covered in chocolate-cherry malt. “Yes.”
She was in Marc’s bedroom. On purpose, by choice, because they both wanted it. There was no question, there was no blaming this on something else, there were no excuses.
She wanted Marc. She loved Marc. Being with him was an easy choice to make.
“Do not remove one stitch of clothing,” Marc said, toeing his shoes off and kicking them in the general direction of the closet. “I get to.”
The look on his face was enough to make her breathe harder.
She barely registered the room. It was immense. The mahogany bedroom set only filled half the room.
All she could focus on was him. Everything about him. His eyes, the exact shade of his skin, the way his khakis hugged his athletic hips, how big his feet were.
“I already took my shoes off.” She crossed one foot over the other, digging her toes into the plush brown carpet.
“I know. Looking at your naked feet is making me crazy and I don’t even have a foot fetish. So I get to do the rest.”
She grinned and took a step forward.
“No. Stay there. I’m trying to get under control before I touch you,” he said.
She clenched her fists. She wanted him out of control, hot for her, barely able to think. She could admit that. “Maybe I could—”
“Stay. There,” he ground out. “We’ve had fast and hot and crazy. I want to go slow this time but it’s gonna take some effort on my part.” He stripped out of the navy blue polo, revealing a soft, white T-shirt. “I want to touch every inch of you, taste every inch of you…” He pulled the T-shirt off.
Sabrina stared. He was so gorgeous. The muscles in his shoulders, chest and abdomen were well defined. Light brown hair fanned softly across his pecs and then led in a silky trail to the fly of his pants. She wanted to touch all of it.
She shifted, feeling warmer and damper by the minute. “Everything you do to me, I get to do to you,” she said softly. She squeezed her knees together, making herself stay put, simply looking and studying him, memorizing the heat in his gaze, the flexing of his muscles, the deep gravel of his voice.
This man wanted her. He was turned on by her. He was here because of and for her at this moment and she wanted to draw it all out.
This was big. Inexplicably big. Scary important. A first she never wanted to forget.
“I can absolutely be okay with that,” he replied huskily. “In fact, with that rule, I just added two or three items to the list of things I’m going to do.”
She smiled. This was sex with Marc. This was how it should be. Fun, flirty, sexy, sweet.
“Bring it on.”
The half smile was the epitome of sexy and she clenched her fists tighter, resisting the urge to touch him. She wanted him out of control, but she also wanted this to be what
he
wanted. He wanted slow. She could do slow.
Probably.
He left his pants on and finally stepped forward.
“I need to see you,” he said softly. He reached for the collar of the shirt she wore unbuttoned over the simple cotton tank top. He peeled the shirt off her shoulders, down her arms and tossed it behind him. Then he pulled the tank top off and over her head.
He stared down at her bra.
She looked down too. “What?” she finally asked.
“The lavender one. From Mushy Marsh.”
“Muddy Gap,” she corrected. “You remember?”
“Damn right. This isn’t the first painfully hard erection you’ve caused.”
Her eyes flew to the object of his comment then back to his face. “Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.”
She pressed close. “Love knowing that.”
“This is what I wanted to do even then.” He reached behind her and flicked the bra hooks open.
She let the bra fall from her arms, her nipples puckering immediately under his gaze. He lifted a hand and cupped her left breast, brushing the stiff point with his thumb.
Shots of fire streaked from her nipples to her gut to her clit. She wanted his hands all over, all at once, right now. “Marc,” she moaned.
He played with the other nipple at the same time, rolling and tugging gently until her legs felt weak.
“More,” she whispered.
“This is going to get serious,” he warned playfully.
“Maybe I’d better lie down.”
“Good idea.” He walked her back to the edge of the bed, but caught the waistband of her jeans with a hooked index finger before she could sit. “I have a little more work to do here first.”
He slowly slid her jeans over her hips, dropping to his knees in front of her as he skimmed them down her legs and then pulled them free when she lifted first one foot then the other. He tossed them to the side and as they landed a small tube fell out. He reached for it, then raised his eyebrows at her when he saw what it was. “Cinnamon is my favorite flavor.”
“Really? I had no idea.”
“Yep.” He flipped the top of the edible body lotion open, squeezed some onto his finger and then painted a cinnamon-scented stripe down her inner thigh.
His lips met the skin just above her knee, then his tongue licked up along the line of lotion.
She moaned, then asked breathlessly, “How’s it taste?”
His tongue stopped an inch short of the elastic band of her panties. “Good. But I think I’m about to have a new favorite flavor.” He pressed a kiss against the center of her panties.
She felt her knees wobble.
“I’ve thought of these more than once.” He pulled the edge of the lavender panties down and pressed his lips to the Taz tattoo. “You’ve sure caused a whirlwind in my life.”
“Good,” she breathed. It couldn’t be one-sided. It wouldn’t be fair to feel the way she did for him without some return of emotion. She wanted him. But this was more than sex.
He turned her with his big hands on her hips and put his lips against the Caution sign tattoo as well. “I’m not feeling particularly cautious,” he admitted.
“I’ll keep you safe.”
“I think I’m a goner no matter what, Seattle.”
She started to ask him what he meant but he slipped lavender silk over her hips, leaving her bare. She stepped out of the panties and he turned her again.
“I knew what to expect from what I’ve felt,” he said, looking at the narrow strip of hair that ran down the middle of her mound to point directly to her clit. “But this is even prettier than I imagined.”
On his knees as he was he was eye level with her most intimate spot. But rather than feel vulnerable, she felt hot. He was looking at her like he’d never seen a woman before and while she knew that was far from the truth, she liked to think that this was different for him too.
He ran a fingertip down and over the stripe of hair. He stopped short of her sweet spot and she moaned. He traced the path twice more before Sabrina finally couldn’t take it and put one foot up on the bed.
Marc sucked in a quick breath through his nose and she watched him lick his lips. “Subtle, Seattle. Very subtle.”
“I hope you can take a hint.”
“You mean like this?” Finally his finger touched her clitoris.
She jerked in response. “Yeah,” she choked. “Something like that.”
He swirled his finger around the nub, then slid lower, his middle finger sliding along her damp cleft. She watched him watching his finger. When the pad of his finger was at her entrance, she widened her stance and bent her knee slightly, moving her body against his finger.
He chuckled softly. “Got that hint too.”
“You sure?”
He raised his eyes to hers as his finger slid into her. Her breath caught as he filled her.
“Pretty sure,” he said mildly, adding a second finger, still holding her gaze with his.
She concentrated on staying upright on wobbly legs and breathing. She wanted more and yet was already on the verge of an orgasm.
He stroked in and out deep twice, then circled her clit again with wet fingers. Waves of pleasure washed over her. She supposed an orgasm right now would be okay. She had no doubt Marc could give her another later on.
“You want this right now?” he asked, almost reading her mind.
She let her head fall back, pulling on his fingers with her inner muscles as he slid home again. “I can’t say that I would object.”
The next thing she knew, he had two fingers deep and he spread his opposite hand on her right butt cheek, pressing her forward. Then she felt his tongue flick against her clit.
She grabbed his head with one hand, gripping his hair harder than she meant to. But that was all that kept her from falling over. He didn’t let up even with the tugging on his hair. He licked and pumped his fingers in and out as she felt the coil of desire tightening and tightening.
Finally he sucked rather than licked, hooked his finger just right and gripped her ass.
She went over the peak, coming hard, gasping his name.
He didn’t let go of her immediately. Instead he nudged her back until she sat on the mattress, his fingers sliding free.
“Definitely a new favorite flavor.” He stood at the bottom of the bed, looking at her in amazement. “I could do that again and again and never have enough.”
“I wouldn’t fight you off,” she said with a chuckle.
He gave her a cocky grin.
“Take your pants off, Marc.”
He continued to watch her as he unbuttoned, unzipped and shucked out of his khakis. He wore boxers. Quite obviously tented by a massive erection.
“More,” she urged.
He slid the boxers down and let them drop.
She’d felt his cock with her hands and inside of her, but she hadn’t had a chance to really look at him. She sat up on the bed, the position putting her mouth nearly on level with his erection.
Without hinting at what she intended, she leaned forward and licked the head.
His hands tangled in her hair. “God, Seattle.”
She licked again, then sucked the head into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip.
He pressed close then pulled out. “Later. Definitely,” he said gruffly, looking at her mouth. “But I need this. Now.”
He pushed her gently and she dropped back to prop on her elbows. She watched him, loving the look of his hands on his cock. “Stroke it for me.”
His eyebrows shot up. But he did. His fist sliding up and down his length three times.
“Let me.” She started to sit up but he stepped between her knees.
“Not now. I have to be inside you.”
She wasn’t about to argue with that.
His knees bumped the mattress and he leaned to grasp her hips, pulling her down until her butt was nearly off the end. Then he stood up and hooked her knees over his elbows. “I love this view,” he said, looking down her body to where she was spread open.
She also looked as he pressed forward, sliding slowly, deliciously into her.
She gasped as he groaned.
When he was as deep as he could go, he paused. Then he slid out, excruciatingly slowly.
He plunged again, then pulled out. Each thrust slow, deliberate, with both their eyes on where he disappeared into her, then reappeared slick and wet.
Each time he went deep Sabrina caught her breath. He filled her completely, stretching her, making her muscles massage his length, reluctantly letting him go each time.
Finally, the fire began burning hotter and the thrusts became harder and closer together.
“Dammit,” he said with clenched jaw. “I wanted this to go on for about a month, but I’m not gonna last.”
“Good.” She wiggled and reached around her own thigh to cup his balls.
He thrust hard and suddenly. “Ah,” he groaned. “I love this with you.”
That was enough to make her muscles begin contracting around him. She stroked him again, loving the effect. He pumped harder, deep enough that she felt tremors in her core.
“Come with me, Seattle,” he panted.
She moved her hand from him to her clitoris, circling the slick nub. He watched her fingers, thrusting faster.
Then he lifted his gaze to hers and as their eyes locked he whispered, “Sabrina.”
And the waves of her climax crashed over her.
She watched his face as he reacted to her vaginal muscles milking him. A moment later he came hard inside of her, pumping until the last shiver quieted.
He continued to look in her eyes as he finally pulled out and let her legs down. They were shaky as she pushed herself up the mattress where she could lay comfortably.
Marc climbed up onto the bed beside her and ran his hand through her hair, then down her arm. She curled into him.
“By the way, I intend to have you on top and then like we just did again before we leave this house, so if you need to rest or stretch or eat or whatever, better get to it.”
She laughed, running her hands up and down his chest. “And then we can start on the positions I want.”
He grinned at her. “What do you want to start with?”
“You behind.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You on hands and knees?”
“Or bent over the back of a chair,” she said eyeing the big easy chair near the window.
He stared at her. Then started chuckling. Then laughing. “You just might be the perfect woman.”
She snuggled close. “From you, that’s saying a lot.” The guy who’d once believed her to be the ultimate evil now thought she was perfect. She liked the sound of it. Even if he was full of crap and it was only post-coital bliss, she still really liked the sound of that.
Chapter Twelve
Marc ran his hand from the base of her head to the back of her knee, appreciating every inch in between. She was on her stomach, her cheek resting on her forearms, face turned to him. She wasn’t asleep but she was pretty damned mellow.
He’d be the same way if he could get past the knot of tension in his gut.
He wanted her again. To ride him, to moan and beg, to put her mouth around him again. But he had to tell her about Nashville.
“You hungry?” he asked.
Food was always his fallback. When he didn’t know what to say, or do, or how to help someone, he’d cook. Food was great for comfort, for reward, as a thank you, for celebration, for grief and for happiness. It made a whole host of things better and he was better at making it than most. Therefore, he reasoned that he was better at comforting and rewarding people than most.