“I know you’re not bad at all,” she said with such conviction tears welled in her eyes. “Bad things just happened to you and—”
“I was doing a lot of illegal shit before my mother died.” He cut her off with grim certainty. “
A lot
.”
Maybe, but that was in the past, and right now all she could say about it was, “I think you’re wonderful, Marcos.”
Katie knew it sounded adolescent and left her vulnerable in a way a full-grown woman with a divorce under her belt shouldn’t be capable of. Another man might mock her for it, but it affected Marcos very differently. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and seemed to waver.
She thought, for just a moment, he would turn around and leave.
Then he cursed in Spanish and cupped her face in both hands, his palms rough against her cheeks as he looked down at her, his gaze now molten with something hot and so tangible Katie could almost taste it. She licked her lips in response, and he groaned, just a small sound of agony that escaped him as he studied her mouth.
“Promise.” His voice was raspy, almost shaking as he took another harsh breath. “Please, Katie.”
Her heartbeat was thundering in her ears now. Her panties were positively soaked from the wild undercurrent of desire that chose that moment to swell up and drown her. It almost felt like torture, some primitive form of manipulation that had her wanting to agree to anything,
absolutely anything
, Marcos wanted.
She licked her lips again, looked into those beautiful eyes that had haunted her dreams for months, and took another deep breath before she whispered, “N-no.”
“Why are you so fucking stubborn?” he snapped, and if he were a different man, she would’ve flinched from the stern sound of it. “Do you know what I’ll do to you if you say yes? I will have you sweating and moaning all night. I swear, just—”
“No,” she said again, this time stronger as she stood there steadfast, her face still between his rough hands. “I need more than one night. I’ve never been with anyone but Grayson. Never even kissed anyone but him. I’ve never had a man look at me like you do. I probably won’t again after you leave and”—she tried to fight his hold to shake her head—“no.”
His breathing was noticeably uneven now, his muscular chest rising and falling in the way a frantic wild animal might do. He opened his mouth, looking like he might say something, and then, just when she thought she might die from the waiting, he said, “Fuck it,” and used his hold on her face to pull her closer, tilt her head back a little farther, and leaned down until his warm breath was fanning across her lips. Still he stopped there and pleaded, “Say it.”
She stood on her toes, clearing the space between them, finally bringing them together and whispered against the soft, smooth feel of his lips, “No.”
He smiled. Just a trace of it, but she knew it was there because she felt it. Just like she felt the strong, unrelenting thump of his heart because her hand had ended up against his chest. She curled her fingers into the wet fabric of his shirt, and then closed her eyes, still trying to remember every single nuance about this moment.
He forced Katie tightly against his hard body. Chest to chest, he licked lightly at the seam of her lips, and the chaotic stream of thoughts rattling around inside Katie’s mind shattered to the moment. She parted to him, her entire being now focused on a single, silent prayer.
God, please.
Rather than fight it, Marcos pushed his tongue past her parted lips with a languid sweep and a low groan that reverberated through Katie clear down to her soul.
Sweet Jesus, she had no idea a kiss could feel like that. Warm, slow, indulgent. The pleasure was almost jarring, like the first shock of sticky sweet caramel on her tongue, tasting so good her mind couldn’t quite comprehend it, but she still opened for more, completely a glutton for the forbidden decadence. Little pulses of desire shimmered through her entire body, and she could actually
feel
her clit pulsing.
Somehow they ended up in the house, with Marcos’s hands in her long hair and his mouth on hers. Katie felt her back hit the wall, and she arched into him instinctively, silently begging for more, and something about the action changed everything. The kiss went from slow and languid to rough and desperate between one heartbeat and the next.
When his tongue thrust past her lips this time, it was harder somehow, more primitive. He tightened his fingers in her hair, holding her there as he nipped at her bottom lip. She opened wider, taking everything he wanted to give her. They were moaning and panting into each other’s mouths whenever they parted for air. The quiver of need between them was so violent, it became a physical manifestation, and both their hands shook.
When Marcos pushed his hips against her, she could feel the hard outline of his cock through his wet jeans. She fisted his shirt, stretched out the neckline as she gasped, and her pussy clenched from the rush of knowing he was aching too.
“Oh, I need—” She tossed her head against the wood paneling in the entryway. He responded by leaning down and sucking on the soft spot at the curve of her neck, making her jerk when the pleasure of it found a direct line to her pussy. She couldn’t even begin to verbalize her desperation, but she tried. “Please, Marcos. I—”
She choked when he pulled at the tie to her robe. Katie had a brief moment where something other than blinding desire filtered into her consciences. She was too pale. Her tits were too big, too full; they weren’t tight and high like those girls in the spring break videos. They filmed those wild shows in Florida, where Marcos lived. All the girls in Miami were surely supermodel perfect, and her hips were too wide and—
Marcos groaned, and Katie squeezed her eyes shut tighter, feeling the heat of embarrassment burn from her face down to her neck and chest.
“Fuck, you blush all over.” He ran his thumb down the valley between her breasts, his fingers grazing the edge of her right one. “That’s sexy as shit. Your skin’s just so fucking smooth. Like, flawless. No tan lines, and look how you get all flushed just from making out.” He cupped her left breast with his other hand and grunted, his stomach muscles clenching noticeably. “I have a thing about girls blushing.”
“Y-you do?” She wanted to turn her head and hide her embarrassment, but it was captivating to watch the way Marcos stared down at her body, exposed now that her robe hung loose on her shoulders. It felt a bit like seeing a car accident—a part of her wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. “Why?”
“Hard to fake a blush. When girls get hot, they start getting all breathless and rosy and coño— You’re fucking perfect.” He couldn’t seem to look away from her tits. He rubbed a thumb over her nipple, circling it reverently, making her moan and arch into him again. Screw embarrassment, her eyes closed because that felt wonderful. “I wonder what you’ll look like after you come.”
“W-what?” she squeaked as his thumb continued to trace little circles over her nipple that was tight from the pleasure of it.
Marcos wrapped his arms around her back, forcing her to arch into him and holding her on her feet at the same time as he leaned down, sucking her nipple into his mouth.
Good God!
She had no idea
anything
could feel that good. She got weak-kneed, her body giving out and wanting to slide down to the ground, but Marcos was so damn strong. He held her up. She could feel his biceps clench under her fingers, because she was clinging to him like a lifeline.
Yet, even with all that strength, he seemed to be fighting the same battle for leverage. The two of them slid to their knees on the wood floor. The door was still open, rain was misting in on them, but she didn’t care, because all of a sudden all that hard, powerful strength was over her, crushing her to the ground. He moved his lips back up to her neck, and her body would’ve mourned the loss, but she was already in sensory overload. Everything felt good.
They were both breathless, and when he reached up, tugging her hair, exposing the curve of her neck, she just arched into the tight hold, giving herself over to it like an addict as he sucked and licked the line of her throat up to the tender spot behind her ear.
“I’m gonna eat you out until you scream, chica.”
Huh?
The meaning of his promise was lost until he slipped his free hand under the lining up her panties, touching her intimately, and her face flamed because she was so very wet, swollen, and aching.
“Coño.” He groaned, pushing a finger into her without invitation or warning. She gasped and jerked from the white-hot rush of pleasure as he breathed into her ear. “Oh, yeah, baby. I’m gonna taste that.”
Oh.
It hit her like a ton of bricks what he meant, and that was just, no.
No way.
She wasn’t supposed to do that with a guy on the first date. She’d been married for almost a year before she and Grayson had experimented with it, and then both decided it wasn’t on their menu. Good girls didn’t do things like that, and she knew she was supposed to shove him off her and tell Marcos about the rules, because the concept seemed lost on him.
But she wasn’t stopping him.
She wasn’t explaining anything. Instead she was lying there shaking and needy as he moved down once more. Sucking on her nipples again. Licking at the small white lines on the edge of her breasts as if he actually liked them. Lower against her stomach, and this was all so much more intimate than anything she had done with Grayson. Ever.
But she wasn’t stopping Marcos.
Not even a little.
She was helping him pull off those pretty pink panties. She wasn’t even worrying too much about her not so toned stomach or being completely exposed to a man she barely knew but felt this crazy connection with.
“Waxed.” He gave her a heart-stopping smile as he hovered over the most intimate part of her. His eyes glowed like blue fire in the dim lighting of the entryway. “Nice, chica.
Very nice
.”
Something caught in her chest, because the way he was looking at her was so genuine. “Do you mean that?”
Marcos leaned up to tug at the back of his shirt. He pulled it off in one fluid motion and then tossed it aside. Katie studied him, now bare-chested, showing off more tattoos. A cross over his left pectoral muscle caught her eye, resting right above his heart. She saw the words written above and below it.
Names
. His mother. Juan. A date was written down the middle. She understood it was the date they died.
She leaned up, touching the brand on his tanned skin. He cupped her hand over his heart rather than push it away as he asked, “What’d you say before?”
“I forgot,” she whispered.
Because she had.
She forgot about everything but this beautiful, damaged man, marked by life, hovering over her.
Needing her.
What the hell were vanity or rules next to that?
She lay down, giving herself to him. To whatever made him ache as deeply as she ached right now. “Do what turns you on.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, eyeing her in surprise. “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” She nodded. “If you need to forget, I want to help.”
Marcos didn’t hesitate. He leaned down and sucked on one taut nipple again, making her moan and arch her back. She threaded her fingers into his wet hair, holding him to her as he moved lower. His bare skin felt amazing against hers. So incredibly intimate in a way sex with Grayson had never been.
She watched the emotions play over his handsome face as he licked and teased her. A fresh sheen of sweat coated her body, making the slide of skin against skin slick when he was still wet from the rain. Her legs were parted to support his hard, muscular form over her, and when he ran his hand down her thigh and hooked his rough palm under her right knee, she let him open her wider.
Like a man born to recklessly take what pleasures life offered him, Marcos ran a thumb down her folds, forcing her to open for him. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitance or insecurity in him, not with this, not stripped bare and staring at her like he wanted to remember all this as badly as she did. Then he bent his head over her, and she watched, mesmerized by the sheer boldness in him as he sucked on her clit as if he owned it.
The pleasure was blinding. She couldn’t help but close her eyes against it. Her fingers tightened in his hair of their own accord, and for just a moment, she was worried it was too much. Then he pushed one finger into her, doubling the surge of bliss, and she couldn’t fight it anyway.
She didn’t want to.
She cried out his name when his touch curved upward, hitting something inside her that made the feel of his tongue against her clit that much more potent. Grayson had never done it like that, forcing her to feel everything at once. It was overwhelming, but she let herself sink into the rapture of it simply because she had no idea how to stop herself.
“God!” Her legs were shaking as the coil of pleasure tightened too fast to control. She knew it was too soon, but she couldn’t stop it now. Katie pitched beneath Marcos, pulling his hair and opening wide to the onslaught when the ecstasy slammed into her embarrassingly fast. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
The apologies burst out of her as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. Katie’s entire body quivered from it. Her pussy clenched to the hard, fast rhythm of release, and he rubbed against that soft spot over and over in response to the unspoken plea.
She squeezed her eyes shut tighter when she felt herself coming again and tried to ride out the second climax as quietly as possible. She bit her lip, choking on her cries, but she knew her body was betraying her completely. Marcos could
feel
how strong it was, inside and out.
It hadn’t even fully waned before she became far too sensitive for his mouth, and she tugged at his hair. He surprised her by pulling away, but he was still stroking her with his fingers. Somewhere along the way, he had worked a second one in, and it felt amazing.
Marcos was over her now, watching her as fucked her with his fingers. It dragged out her second release for what felt like forever, making her bite her lip harder.