Authors: Red Garnier
Marly’s vivid green eyes went enormous, and at her horrified expression, the doctor felt compelled to add, “I suspect you will be back to normal in a few days. Four or five at most, Mrs. Forrester, no need to look so worried.”
“Five days?” She sounded crestfallen. “But you have no idea how much this…hurts…how much I…” Her deep green eyes landed on Marcus, and the turmoil there just tore at him. “This is horrible.”
“I need more tests to determine the cause. I wonder if it might be due to genetics?
Tell me about your parents, Mrs. Forrester, anything unusual?”
When Marly didn’t so much as breathe, Marcus thoughtfully said, “Well, her mom’s real weird.”
“Marcus!”
He looked back at her wide-eyed. “Well, it’s true!”
“I’m not even getting into details about
your
mother.”
“Thank you.”
With a slightly amused tug on his lips, the doctor leveled his sharp gaze on Marly.
“In what sense is your mother unusual, Mrs. Forrester?”
Marly shrugged as if it made little difference. “She’s developing an inter-species breeding program.”
“And weird hair.”
Dr. Vilder’s bushy white brows shot up. “Ahhhh.”
But since he still looked confused, Marcus specified, “She experiments with pussies, doctor.”
“Marcus means
cats
, doctor,” Marly countered, sending a withering look his way before turning to Dr. Vilder. “Like a lion and a tigress making a liger, and a tiger and a lioness making a tigon. That sort of thing. My mother’s a zoologist, and she has a soft spot for breeding rare African species.”
“I see.” The doctor busily rubbed his chin, as if that alone gave him access to all the answers in the universe.
“What has that to do with my wife?” Marcus asked worriedly, images of his mother-in-law and her godawful hair, and her even more awful experiments, pricking all the hairs in his body.
“Marcus…” Marly choked on the word, her face coloring salmon. “Marcus take me home.”
He softened his voice. “Let’s just wait until the doctor explains…”
“Marcus,
now
.” She convulsed a little over the chair, pressing her legs together, her knuckles white on the armrests. “Oh, God.”
Marcus jolted to his feet when her eyes rolled back and she shuddered.
The last thing he needed was for her to strip in front of the doctor and hump the desk.
“She gets this way every half hour or so,” he told the doctor, his tone apologetic.
The doctor’s alarm was evident in the slight widening of his eyes as he rose.
“Marcus, I truly suggest you get some help.”
“You mean like nine-one-one?”
“I meant real help, Mr. Forrester. The kind you’ll need.”
Marcus lifted her to her feet, a steady arm around her waist keeping her pinned to his side. “Come on, baby, let’s go.”
Marly’s chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths, her body trembling against his own as he quickly dumped the money owed on the desk outside.
After crossing the parking lot and settling her in the front passenger seat of their SUV, Marcus slid behind the wheel, shut the door, and said, “I say we get a second opinion.”
Her shaky sigh filled the interior of the car. “I just want to go home.”
“I think this guy’s into that weird fiction thing. Cat hormones! Where the hell would he get that anyway?”
She was avoiding his gaze, as though she was ashamed of something. Softly she bit her lip, then said, “So that’s what’s wrong with me.”
“Marly,
nothing
is wrong with you.” He cupped her smooth cheek and forced her to look at him. “Except that you’re a little nutty, but we already knew that about you, didn’t we?”
“Marcus.” The desperation in her voice mirrored the one gnawing at his gut.
“Hey,” he said, “Even if he’s right. You’re a healthy, horny female; what’s wrong with that?”
“That my poor husband looks like a punching bag, that’s what’s wrong!”
“I already told you I loved that little biting session, honey. You’ve got real good teeth.”
She smiled, a smile that made her eyes look a brilliant green, then she whimpered, assailed again by her unnamed malady. Or as Dr. Vilder quite succinctly put it, her need to mate. “Just drive, M,” she said quietly.
“Great idea.” He twisted the key, the car roaring to life.
“Wait! Kiss me first.”
She curled a hand around his nape and pulled him in for a hot kiss. She whimpered when their lips touched, and he growled when she parted her mouth under his, allowing his tongue inside. Her mouth was wet, hot, her tongue swirling eagerly around his own.
She was so sweet, tastier than his favorite cream pudding. Marcus could’ve kissed her for a full additional hour if he hadn’t noticed her already touching herself, rubbing herself over her jeans.
“Easy, baby.” Shaken, he drew away and focused on pulling out of the parking lot.
As soon as they hit the streets, he sped onto the highway. Forget the speed limit. He needed to get home
now
.
He stole a quick look at her, trying not to think how juicy and delectable her swollen lips looked. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. First thing I’m gonna do when we get home is fuck you.”
Her eyes fluttered closed. “
Umm
…” She sank back farther into the seat, parting her legs so she could rock her hips and scrape her fingers over herself. “Oh, God, I need you.”
He expelled a trembling breath and nearly broke the steering wheel with his grip.
“Baby, I need you, too.”
“I can’t wait…”
His cock felt like a club inside his pants. It hurt from last night and it hurt from wanting her. His beautiful wife was hazy-eyed and panting, and only a few feet away.
Her lips gleamed with dampness and she smelled like she did when she was soaking wet.
And all Marcus could do was drive. Dammit. “Baby,” he said raggedly. “
I
can’t wait.”
“But Marcus, I can’t stand this.” A painful grimace contorted her face, and Marcus felt his own features go tense.
“Honey, I feel for you. Believe me. I know how you’re hurting.” He had an urge to crawl back to the doctor and see what was wrong with
him
—he hurt so bad, too.
Marly cupped her pussy over the fabric of her jeans, grinding the heel of her palm against her mound as she rocked her hips up. Marcus wanted to tell her to pull down her jeans and do it, fuck herself over the seat and let him watch, let him come in his pants watching.
Instead, he silently cursed the slow-moving car in front, one hand into the air. “Damn this traffic anyway!” Damn everyone keeping him from reaching home and fucking his poor and afflicted, very sexy Marly.
Her hand paused at the juncture of her thighs as she went completely still. “So I’m in heat like some sort of…bitch?”
He chuckled, still not even believing it. “Yeah.”
Her face held no mirth as she regarded him. “It’s not funny.”
“It makes me nervous, all right?” He plowed his fingers through his hair and cursed under his breath, shaking his head ruefully.
Thoughtful now, his wife turned to stare out the window. He could see the worried lines in her brow by the angle of her profile, the trembling lower lip she tried to hold still with her top teeth. “I’ll take care not to scratch you, M, I promise. It just gets so…” She trailed off, hunching forward and curling her arms around her waist with a pained groan.
“Oh, God. I want you, baby.”
Marcus felt weak, his voice shaking as much as his knees. “I can hardly wait.”
With imploring green eyes, she said, “Baby, stop somewhere. Anywhere, please.”
“Just a few more minutes, sweetheart, hang in there.” He slammed the pedal further down, certain the highway had grown longer just now. It had never taken him so long to get home before.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her rub herself, her hand going faster and faster and faster. “Oh, fuck,
Marcus
.”
Finding every breath emptier and heavier than the last, his eyes strayed from the road to look at her, on the seat, flushed and eager and horny. “Honey, do you
want
me to crash?” he demanded.
Marly bucked in the seat with a moan. “No. What I want is for you to stop this fucking car, get your hands on me and your dick inside me now!”
Marcus’s jaw tightened. “I swear nobody wants to fuck now more than me.”
And no sore cock would keep him from it.
* * * *
By the time Marly spotted their quaint, red-brick, one-story, two-bedroom love nest, she felt weak with need. Her body was quaking, her sex pulsing hard, a famished hunger gnawing inside her belly. Not even as a teenager in her first burst of hormones had she felt so lusty, so desperate, so fiercely horny and ready to fuck. She barely noticed when Marcus turned off the engine and came around the front of the car.
In her next breath, he scooped her up in his powerful arms. “Come here, baby.”
“Oh, Marcus, please.” Her hands flew to his shoulders, and then of their own will slid to work the buttons on his shirt. He carried her inside, kicking the door shut behind them.
Pushing his shirt aside, her eager hands slipped through the parted material and over his glorious chest, sprinkled with silky dark hairs. She rubbed those sinewy muscles, her sex muscles contracting with want as he carried her down the darkened hall.
He paused at the threshold to their bedroom and gazed down at her with hot, smoldering eyes. His jaw was tight with desire, eyelids heavy as he spoke down into her face. “Now, let me make love to you.”
Marly felt herself melt with gratitude. “Yes.”
“I want you slow.”
She gripped his shoulders in panic. “No! I want fast. I want now.”
“Shh.”
He pressed his lips lightly, briefly to hers as he crossed the length of their bedroom, lowering her to sit on the edge of their bed. Prying her hands from his shoulders, he placed them by her sides, squeezing her wrists in reassurance. Between sooty, dark lashes, his black eyes shone, filled with tenderness, lust. Love. “You’re my wife. And I will have you, again and again, slow
and
fast.”
As if to prove this, his hands slipped under her soft cotton shirt. They felt like gliding silk over her belly, and like a burning clamp when, after they unfastened the front clasp of her bra, he clutched her bare breasts and squeezed.
Marly arched up to his hands, making a soft mewing sound.
He groaned, his hold impatient, possessive on her breasts. “You’re so damned beautiful, Marly.”
His thumbs rubbed back and forth on her firm, rounded nipples. His breathing had changed, deepened, nostrils flaring as he stared at her lips with eyes on fire.
Her hand felt weak as she lifted it to touch him. “Marcus.”
She slipped her fingers through his hair as he ducked low and opened his mouth over her t-shirt, covering a protruding nipple. Moisture from his mouth seeped past the fabric and onto the sensitive pearl, sending shivers down her body. Her other nipple brushed against the cotton, and that alone sent her bucking up wantonly.
She clutched the back of his head, her head spinning. Her skin burned as if she were swimming in lava. “Oh, Marcus.”
He lifted his head, his hands tugging at her shirt. “Take this off.” His voice was gruff with desire.
The knowledge of what he would do to her as soon as the barriers were gone urged her to hurry. Her hands trembled with anticipation as she fumbled with her jeans, yanked her top over her head, and stripped off her bra and panties.
He hadn’t been idle while she undressed.
At the foot of the bed, he stood naked now, his clothes in a heap behind him. He looked so handsome, as handsome as ever. Strength. Compassion. Determination. And the ability to smile at life, whatever curve ball she threw at them.
Her husband had it all.
He was the first boy she’d kissed, the only man she’d ever loved, and all Marly had prayed since she’d turned sixteen was that they’d be able to grow old together, and never, ever be apart.
His rich sable-black hair was rumpled, carelessly curling around his ears, as luxurious and tempting as that tanned god-like body. Thickened dark veins that gushed with blood ridged the length of his swollen cock, the tip already moistened with droplets of semen.
She could see her love bites on his shoulder, his inner thigh, and the marks of her nails on his chest. She had been embarrassed yesterday when she’d realized what she’d done to him, but now that she was aching for him to fill her again, she gazed at every little scab like a mark of her ownership, and it excited her all the more.
His long, athletic legs were braced wide apart, his arms motionless at his sides. A muscle flexed in the back of his jaw. “Open up for me, Marly. I want to see you. How pink and swollen you are.”
A flood of sensations assailed her at his husky words. Her nipples tingled. Her belly pulled tight. Her sex clenched.
His cock jerked in the air, the muscles in his abs squared rigid. “Show me your pussy, baby.”
Marly would show him the world if she could.
Slowly resting her head back on the bed, she parted her thighs, feeling her lips unfold like petals, her swollen entrance gleam wetly for him.
“Put your cock inside me, Marcus.” Her voice was a croak, the sound so weak she doubted if he heard, for he didn’t move, only watched her with coal-black eyes brimming with intensity and power.
She curved her spine over the bed, a needy whimper urging him forward as her eyes drifted shut. She shook from need. Her stomach burned.
And still, he didn’t take her.
“Marcus, please.” She couldn’t stand this. Couldn’t stand her sweaty, prickly skin.
The way her pussy clenched around emptiness. The way her breasts hurt.
“Shh.” His murmur filled her with want as he clasped one ankle in his hand and lifted her leg. He flattened the arch of her foot against his chest, beneath one shoulder.
Then he lowered his face, his warm breath on her skin. “I know what you want, baby.”
He brushed his lips to the tender skin on the inside of her ankle, then flicked out his tongue to lick her, working a hot, moist path along the inside of her leg.