stood. “Don’t move. Keep your hands where they are.”
She clutched the satin dress in her hands. “Whatever you want.”
He shucked his pants and boxers, watching her as she watched him.
“You’re magnificent with no clothes on. You know that, right?” she asked.
“I’d say the same thing of you, darling.” He’d never craved a woman the way he did her, as if he could spend his lifetime exploring her, unlocking her mysteries, learning and admiring. “Can we keep your shoes on?” He stood with his knees pressed against the side of the bed and lifted her leg, holding her ankle, trailing the back of his other hand along her inner thigh.
“You do realize they pinch my toes, right?”
“They do?” he frowned. Damn. Next time. “We can’t have that.” He undid the tiny silver buckle and removed the shoe, placing it on the floor. He did the same with her other foot, then stretched out beside her.
“I want to touch you,” she said, raising her head and craning her neck as if she was reaching for him with her lips. “Can I move my hands yet?”
He rubbed her stomach. The parts of him driven by testosterone wanted her hands all over him. But his brain wanted her under his control for a few more minutes. “Not yet.”
* * *
Ashley’s heart was in her throat. Marcus was so hot when he was like this—taking charge, even bossing her around a little bit. It was probably why she’d never completely written him off when they’d had their spats.
His hand went under the waistband of her black satin panties, but his eyes stayed glued to hers. With every passing second, with every pump of blood through her body, he further occupied her heart. He could have had absolutely anything from her at that moment. Absolutely anything.
Now that she was completely naked, both physically and mentally, he shifted above her, planting his knees on the bed between her legs, his hands on either side of her waist. He covered every square inch of her belly with his warm lips, traveling in circles that radiated outward. When he reached her breasts, he gathered his lips around her nipples, sucking, then flickering his tongue against the tight skin. He kissed the tender undersides of her breasts, then the stretch of skin between them. Every subtle thing he did felt so essential to her being, as if he was coaxing her breaths out of her.
He traveled down her midline with his lips, the kisses becoming deeper, longer, wet. She sucked in a sharp breath when he palmed her thighs and spread her legs wide. Then he kissed her apex and the whole world fell away. He took control, exploring her most delicate places with his tongue and lips, with the patience of a man who knew exactly what he was doing.
Her hips bucked off the bed as his tongue traveled in circles. She couldn’t stand not to touch him anymore. She tossed the dress aside and dug her hands into his hair. The intensity was building so quickly in her center that she didn’t think she could take it much longer. She felt as if she might explode. She was legitimately concerned that if he made her come as hard as she thought she might, she could end up pinning his head on both sides with her knees. “Marcus. I need you. I need you to make love to me.”
He took a few more passes, just enough to make her dizzy, then pressed his lips against her lower stomach. She took a deep breath, willing the pleasurable pressure to recede. She wanted this next part to last.
He removed a condom from the bedside drawer.
“Let me do it,” she said, scooting to the edge of the bed.
“Gladly.” He handed it over, standing before her, a vision of muscle and masculinity—a very happy vision judging by the way he felt in her hands. A low, guttural breath escaped his lips.
She stroked him, watching his reaction as she tightened her grip. Then she switched to a lighter touch, and that seemed to drive him even crazier. Her fingers traveled his length, slowly, carefully. It felt as if he became even harder with every pass. She couldn’t fathom how he could take much more, so she opened the foil packet and rolled on the condom.
He lowered his head, cupped the side of her face, and drew her into a deep kiss. It was as if he was drinking in her very being, and she did the same to him, relishing every heavenly sensation of his touch. She eased herself to her back and bracketed his hips with her knees. “I want you, Marcus. Make love to me.”
“I need you, Ash. More than you’ll probably ever know.” He positioned himself at her entrance, still standing, raising her hips off the bed, carefully driving inside as he did.
She went higher, he went deeper and their bodies were fully joined. He cradled her bottom in his hands. She wrapped her legs around his hips, struggling to make sense of how impossibly good he felt. He was so deep it made her light-headed. He increased their pace, making small but powerful thrusts, keeping their bodies as close as possible.
He had her right back where she’d been a few minutes before, poised on the edge of release, her breaths shallow, almost insignificant. His were coming hard and fast, his lips parted, his eyes closed as he seemed lost in a trance of pleasure. She wanted those lips. She wanted his face in her hands when he gave way. She had to have that closeness.
“Kiss me,” she gasped, clutching at the sheets, realizing just how close she was to release.
He reached down and slipped his arms around her, pulling her chest to his as he rolled onto the bed until they were facing each other, on their sides. Their lips were on each other, tongues swirling. Marcus bucked his hips against her, thrusting deep, while the angle brought her a perfect friction. Her insides were wound tight, and there wouldn’t be much more she could take before she would have to give in.
The peak sprang on her like a tiger attacks its prey, consuming her. Marcus quickly followed with his own release, holding her close, quieting the movements of her hips with his hands. Their breaths slowed, falling into synchrony. She caressed the side of his face, feeling his stubble against her palm, feeling his smile in their kiss. She couldn’t think of another place on earth she’d rather be. I love him.
If only she could be certain she wouldn’t let him down.
Marcus had been half-awake for a while, basking in Ashley’s beauty as she slept. He knew exactly how lucky he was to have found her.
Ashley stirred, stretching and arching her back, rolling her head from side to side on the pillow. A narrow sliver of morning sun peeked between the drapes. It was nearly nine thirty. When was the last time he’d slept so late on a Sunday? It certainly hadn’t happened since Lila had been born.
He and Ashley had both needed the sleep. They’d taken full advantage of their night together, only drifting off for short spans before one of them would find the other beneath the sheets, hands would rove, lips would touch skin and the glorious cycle would start all over again. They’d fallen together so perfectly and now a day of reckoning was upon them, or at least upon him. Ashley was due to get her apartment back tomorrow. Their experimental coupling had been more than a success—it was a revelation—but it wasn’t the full reality, only a partial one.
“Morning,” she said sleepily, folding herself into him, resting her head on his chest.
“Good
