Page 46 of A Secret Escape

Lila

M y body feels like heaven, Marcus’s fingers playing my strings like an instrument, and it’s everything. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and yet I still want more.

My inner walls throb, begging to feel him inside me again, as if I didn’t just have him three times this morning.

All my better judgement, all my common sense, flies straight out the fucking window as I straddle him, his rock-hard cock pressed against me as the hot water laps at my thighs.

“I need you inside me,” I whisper breathily, and as I hear the words come out my mouth, I wonder who this person actually is.

I’ve never done any kind of dirty talk, and I’ve certainly never felt this kind of desperate ache before, my body literally screaming as it begs to feel him fill me up again.

But this is what he does to me. He fills me with a kind of confidence and power I didn’t know I had, making me feel bolder and sexier than ever.

I kiss him deeply, concentrating all my desire for him into the kiss, my tongue swirling against his, my hands pulling at his hair .

He adjusts his position below me and my mouth falls open with a surprised gasp as he easily pushes into me.

He drives his hips up, pushing deeper into me as my body tenses, gasps turning into moans that turn into screams as he fucks me so fucking good.

The water is splashing all over the sides of the tub, but it doesn’t matter.

Not a damn thing in the world matters right now, because Marcus Andersson is underneath me, inside me, his skin against my skin, and it’s absolutely everything.

His lips find my breast and he pulls my nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking over it, teeth grazing just enough to make me yelp as electricity shoots through me. I squeeze my legs around him, his growl in my ear driving me closer and closer to a second climax.

I go to kiss him again, desperate for the taste of his mouth, but he shifts, one hand clamping around my hip, firm and possessive, as the other slides round to my backside. My breath catches – freezes – when I feel his finger trace a slow, deliberate circle around the tight ring of muscle there.

Heat rushes up my spine, my skin prickling as a low, startled sound escapes me.

“Has anyone touched you here?” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear, his voice thick like smoke.

I shake my head, my heart thudding so loud it drowns out everything else. A nervous thrill coils in my belly, tightening with every breath.

“No,” I moan.

Then, his finger is there, pressing, unrelenting, and a gasp rips from my throat, the sound raw and sharp, as he pushes through. The stretch is sudden, unfamiliar. My whole body jerks, torn between instinct and want .

It’s unexpected… bold… intimate in a way that rattles me. And yet, somewhere beneath the sharp jolt of surprise, a deep ache blooms low in my stomach – curious, needy, dark with possibility.

But then – he’s gone.

With a quick move, he pushes me off, the sudden loss making me gasp, confused and breathless.

But in the next heartbeat, my eyes grow wide as I watch his hand grip his cock, his body jerking as the first pulse of release hits him.

A loud roar rips through him as he comes, his hips thrusting through the water, white streams spilling over his fist, landing in the water, with some landing across my breasts like a claim.

I watch with a satisfied smile as his body relaxes back into the water with a low groan. When his eyes open, I trace a finger in the warm sticky liquid dripping down my chest, bringing my finger to my mouth to taste him.

His eyes burn with an intensity so fierce that if I didn’t feel so safe with him, it might scare me.

A laugh rises from my throat as I slide down into the water to wash the rest of it off my chest. My centre presses against him and he groans.

We sit there, catching our breath as we look at each other in the post orgasmic haze.

Splashes of water mix with beads of sweat on Marcus’s face and his expression is a mural of emotion – from his satisfied grin, his mouth hanging slightly open with heavy breaths as he regains his energy, and a sparkle in his eyes of excitement and desire, but also a softness I hadn’t noticed before.

A softness that hints at something deeper than just physical desire.

“Thank you…for pulling out,” I say, genuinely grateful for the fact that he had some semblance of self-control in a moment where mine abandoned me .

A coy smile plays on his lips. “I don’t think an accidental pregnancy is what either of us wants.”

“I’ve always been really careful. It’s just… something about you… makes all rational thought disappear.”

He laughs. “Is that so?” He raises his brows, playful.

“Well, what are we going to do about that?” he asks, teasing.

Heat rises to my cheeks. I shrug, flustered.

“Would you consider going on the pill?” he asks ever so casually, as though the question didn’t just imply that he wants to keep doing this past this week!

“Yea, definitely,” I say. “I haven’t needed it, as I haven’t been with anyone in a while, and I don’t really do one-night stands, but… yea.” I smile. “I would.”

His foot brushes gently against my leg under the water. “Good.”

The bubbles have mostly dissolved now and the water suddenly starts to feel cooler. As if reading my mind, he reaches for the tap, turning on a trickle of hot water that swirls around my leg.

“Do you want to get out?” he asks.

I tilt my head. “Do you?”

I like being here – naked, warm, our limbs tangled beneath the soapy water.

He shakes his head, his expression soft.

“Me either,” I say.

“Good thing we’ve got hot water then,” he grins, flashing his perfect smile.

I grab the bubble bath and pour more into the stream. A layer of fresh froth swirls between us.

“Tell me something,” Marcus says.

I raise a brow suspiciously. “Okay… ”

“You said you’ve had a crush on me for two years?”

I groan, covering my face, but I can’t help a smile taking over my mouth.

He laughs. “No, really - I want to know.”

I peek through my fingers and nod. “Yea, I have.”

“So why didn’t you ever try to talk to me before?”

“I don’t know,” I say, my hands slowly dropping back under the water. “I don’t really see you that often.”

“Mmm. You see me often enough.”

I smirk. “Well, why didn’t you make a move on me? Apparently, you couldn’t stop thinking about me after the gala last year,” I remind him playfully.

“I already told you that,” he says confidently. “I thought I was too old for you. I didn’t want to risk looking like a creep. Sexual harassment allegations aren’t really my thing,” he adds with a laugh.

I roll my eyes. “Fine. I don’t know… I just… didn’t have the right opportunity, I guess.”

“Or the right amount of alcohol,” he teases, that devilish look back in his eye.

I burst out laughing as heat burns across my face.

“Okay, yea… maybe that too.”

His foot brushes along my side again, soft and soothing. He studies me, and I swear he’s looking right into the core of me. There’s something so steady in the way he looks at me – his eyes convey his soul and it doesn’t matter that there’s still so much I don’t know about him.

I feel at home with him. Like I’ve found my place. My person.

Then his gaze drops and his hand traces his jaw.

“I had also wondered…” he says, his voice low. “If maybe… you were going out with Carter. ”

I blink. For a beat, I just stare at him, before a laugh bubbles out of me. “Carter? As in, the Carter currently dating your assistant? That Carter?”

Marcus’s brows rise in amusement as the softness comes back into his eyes.

“Yea, I mean, he’s your age. You two always seemed close. I remember watching the two of you and just… assuming.”

I laugh again, shaking my head. “He’s also shagged his way through half of Manchester! And just to be clear – no – I am not in that half!”

Marcus laughs, looking relieved, but there's still a heaviness hanging over him.

"I told you," I say, softer now, rubbing his side with my foot. "He's like a brother to me. Always has been. There's never been anything romantic there, and there never will be."

He exhales, a sound that's part laugh, part relief. "I know. I believe you. It's just – God, that thought stuck with me for so long. Every time I saw you two together, it… bothered me more than I ever wanted to admit."

Silence settles between us again, easy and electric, allowing for a stream of thoughts to swirl around my mind.

The thought of me and Carter being together bothered him? And in the café this morning, he asked if I ever loved Chris… and there was a definite note of sadness when he asked that. Is it possible that he actually feels something more real for me?

His in-the-moment confession from earlier reverberates in my mind. “I’m yours.”

And he said seeing me would make his day. And the gala dress…

But these could just be signs of physical attraction. Surely he doesn’t...

We’ve had two dates and some mind-blowing sex. That’s not enough to base feelings on.

Except… I love him.

I look at him, sitting across from me, his eyes gazing deep into mine.

I absolutely, one hundred percent, love this beautiful man sitting naked in the bath with me.

I can feel the question building in my throat before I even consciously realise I’m going to ask it.

“Marcus…”

He looks at me softly, his fingers playing with my foot under the water.

“Why did you bring us up here?”

“What do you mean?” His voice tenses slightly, sounding concerned, possibly even insulted.

Shit. Don’t fuck this up, Lila!

I force a breath.

I need to know. Is this just physical to him?

“I mean… booking this cottage, last minute…it couldn’t have been cheap. And we still could have been followed just as easily. So, I guess I’m just wondering… why?”

A silent beat passes between us. He shuts off the tap.

“You want the honest truth?”

I nod, my heart hammering in my chest.

“The main reason is still true. I hoped it would be far enough away that we wouldn’t be followed. But..” He runs a hand through his hair, the water sweeping it back as droplets run down his chest. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love the idea of being alone with you.”

My lips are curving into a smile before I’ve even fully processed his response. “Yea?”

“Yea,” he says, sitting up a bit more. “Everything happened so fast. I didn’t expect...”

“Me either,” I say. “Honestly, if two weeks ago someone had asked me what would be more likely, that today I’d be sitting here, sharing a bubble bath with Marcus Andersson in a romantic cottage, or winning the lottery, I would have run to buy a lottery ticket.”

He laughs, tension easing from his jaw.

His fingers drum absently on the edge of the tub.

I study his face, amazed at how expressive every one of his features is.

I can tell he’s holding something back, carefully choosing the words to say as his hand moves to hold the black gem hanging from his neck. His eyes are focused on the wall behind me.

“You know I told you… it’s been about ten years since my last real relationship.”

“Yea…” I brace myself, unable to tell where he’s going with this.

If he’s about to tell me he isn’t looking for anything serious, I’m not sure I’ll survive it. I am completely head over heels in love with this man, and everything between us at the moment feels too good to be true.

“It’s not because I haven’t had the opportunity. I’ve dated here and there, even tried online dating once, but no one…” His eyes lock on mine. “ …captivated me. Not the way you do.”

My heart fucking stops as I feel my jaw drop.

I captivate him?

I have to remind myself to breathe, my mind trying to think of something to say, but failing to come up with anything.

After a moment, he continues. “Yesterday… when you told me another man had been at your flat after I left… I felt jealous. It’s stupid, I know, considering what happened. But I wished you would have called me.”

There’s a pained look on his face and I want to hug him and tell him I love him and that I will forever be his and only his if he wants me. But I don’t speak. I can’t.

I dig my fingernails into my palm to make sure this entire day hasn’t just been a really elaborate dream .

“I really like you, Lila,” he says and breathes out a big sigh, as though a weight has been lifted off his chest.

“I meant what I said,” he continues. “I’m all yours. If you’ll have me.”

Everything inside me fucking liquefies into molten lava.

“I really like you too, Marcus.”

He grins, charming and dangerous, and so fucking beautiful, it physically hurts. “Yea?”

“Yea,” I nod.

He takes my hand and pulls me in to him, his lips brushing mine, soft and sensual.

“I’m all yours, Marcus. Only yours.”

His arms wrap around me, and I can’t stop smiling. My face aches, and my eyes sting. I hadn’t even noticed I was crying until he wipes a tear away.

“You okay?” he asks gently.

I nod, laughing through it. “Just happy.”

My heart feels happier than I ever knew possible, but my brain just can’t believe it.

How many girls had dreamed of this man saying these things to them?

How many girls would kill to be in my shoes?

How many girls had he rejected over the years, how many hearts had he broken, telling them he wasn’t interested?

And here he is, opening up to me , telling me he’s all mine, when he hadn’t committed in that way to anyone in over ten years!

“The water’s freezing,” he murmurs.

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

Still, we climb out, picking up the two white towels we had left on the floor after our earlier shower – slightly damp, but good enough – and wrap them around ourselves .

I perch on the edge of the bed as Marcus stands in front of me, drying off as my eyes continue to skim his body, landing again on his necklace.

“What do you want to do now?” he asks.

I grin. “What do you want to do?”

He glances out the window, and I turn my head to follow his gaze. The sun is starting to dim, but it’s still fairly bright outside, suggesting it’s sometime late afternoon.

“I want to get into that bed with you and not get out again the rest of the week.”

I smile as my heart soars. “That sounds like heaven.”

He leans down, giving me a soft kiss, and our towels drop as he easily slides me back across the bed, climbing on top of me as he pulls the covers over us.

His arms pull me close, and his lips meet mine, deeper this time.

His hand palms my breast, and I feel him harden against me.

He reaches for a condom, sliding it on and we move together, slower this time, gentler, but still just as consuming.

He lays on top of me, our breaths mingling, his warmth wrapped around me like a promise.

A few minutes later, he shifts onto his back, pulling me onto his chest, and I drift off into an easy sleep, his arms wrapped around me and the steady beat of his heart reaffirming this is real.