Page 55

I fucking shatter, an explosion surging through me, convulsing every muscle in my body, a volcano erupting as I scream out in pure fucking ecstasy, my back and hips lifting off the bed. Muscle spasms travel up from my core, through my shoulders and down my arms as I gasp for air, and the pressure of his mouth doesn’t ease off for a second, sending a second series of spasms through me just as the first have passed.
His fingers press against that spot inside of me, a spot that I didn’t even know existed until today, coursing pleasure through me like I’ve never fucking felt before, the force of his movements practically lifting me off the bed.
My insides tighten again, just as they had done mere seconds ago, and a second eruption follows, just as powerful as the first, and I feel tears roll down the sides of my face, because holy fucking hell, what is this feeling?
My body isn’t here. It’s floating up above the room, on a blanket of clouds, light as a feather, and not a fucking thing matters except the feel of his tongue, hot and soft and so fucking wet.
Finally, his licks start to slow as firm pressure alternates with soft caresses, slowly teasing me as I let out a final gasp, floating back down onto the mattress, my fists unclenching the duvet.
With one final kiss sending another shiver through me, he slips his fingers out of me, and I instantly mourn the loss.
He climbs up onto the bed, pulling me up with him as he collapses beside me.
A moment later, he rolls onto his side and rests his hand gently on my breast as I lay there, trying to catch my breath.
Turning my head to look at him, I suddenly burst out in a laugh at the absurdity of emotions circling in my mind.
“You’re something else, you know that?” I say, turning onto my side to face him as he props his head up on his arm, his muscles flexing in a way that makes my insides tighten all over again.
“Oh yea?” he asks seductively, leaning in to give me a kiss.
I close my eyes, enjoying the taste of my own orgasm on his lips, the scent filling my head with a light-headed air. It feels so dirty and kinky, and I fucking love it.
“Yea,” I whisper as he softly pulls away.
“So are you,” he says, smiling.
I drop my head down to hide my face in the duvet, but his hand moves across me, slowly gliding across my back, running down from my shoulders to my waist. Every moment that he’s touching me is pure bliss.
I open my eyes, taking in the sight of his naked body. His muscle definition is unreal and his golden skin stretches perfectly across his chest, down his abs, to that incredible cock. He looks like a fucking statue.
And he’s mine. Even if only for tonight.
I rest my hand against his chest and let out a deep breath.
Several long moments pass as we lay on the bed together, our hands softly wandering with gentle caresses and grazes of fingertips on skin.
“We should get dressed,” he says eventually, disappointment piercing every word.
I nod as Marcus leans in and gives me a soft kiss, our lips lingering, not wanting to part.
He pulls back and sits up on the bed.
A smile creeps across my face as he stands up, my eyes glued to his perfect arse. I don’t even want to blink as I try to burn the image of his naked body into my brain.
He pulls on a pair of black Calvin Klein briefs, and slips into a pair of thick black joggers that hang snugly around his waist, casting a soft shape over his cock.What is it about men in sweatpants?
My eyes trace the ripple of every muscle in his torso as he pulls a white hoodie over it, large lettering across it that reads “Los Angeles”.
The sight of him in his casual clothes warms my soul, making me feel safe and peaceful.
He glances at me, reaching his arm up to scratch the back of his head.
How is it that he makes the simplest of moves look so fucking sexy?
“Right, so, I don’t actually have any women’s clothes,” he says with a slight laugh. I smile and slide off the bed, coming to stand in front of his wardrobe with him. It’s so neat and organised, with work shirts, suit jackets and trousers all hung up neatly, and a stack of hoodies folded neatly on the shelf below. I reach in and grab a grey hoodie, plain aside from a little detail of a sun at the top left shoulder.
He smiles. “You can wear that if you want.”