Thank God.
My Marjorie was home.
I kissed the top of her head and held her tightly.
“Please,” she said again, her whisper more of a hum against my neck.
I didn’t reply, simply helped her dry the last of the water from her body and left the two towels in a heap on the floor. Then I led her into the bedroom and set her gently on the bed that I’d already turned down.
My cock was already pulsing, ready for me to thrust into her.
But she’d asked for soft.
No matter how much I wanted to get rough—to fuck her thoroughly and mark her, never let anyone take her from me again—I couldn’t. I needed to be there for her now, see to her needs, not my own.
I undressed slowly, easing each garment from my body in what seemed like slow motion, even though I wanted to tear the clothes into shreds and get inside Marjorie.
Her gaze never left me, those warm brown eyes searing into me and making me even hotter.
My cock was hard and ready, but I was determined to go slowly.
I lay down on the bed and gathered her into my arms. “I love you so much,” I whispered.
“I love you too.”
Her words warmed me, made me want to protect her and keep her from all harm.
I’d already failed at that quest.
I would not fail again.
I tilted her chin upward and pressed my lips to hers in the softest of kisses. Her sweet lips were parted, and I longed to force my tongue between them, take her in a firm and drugging kiss that would lead us to everything I desired.
Instead, I gave her another light kiss on her full pink lips.
This time, though, she took the lead. She trailed her tongue over my lower lip and then swept it inside my mouth.
I responded with all my pent-up passion.
This was the kiss I wanted. The marking kiss. The kiss that would imprint on her psyche and make her mine forever.
Our lips slid together.
And then hands. Hers on my cheek and then my shoulder. Over my hip and clasped onto my ass. Mine in her silky wet hair, pulling and tugging, sliding over the top of her breast and then to the fleshy indent of her waist, all the way to that jewel between her legs.
She was wet. She was so wet.
She broke away from me, panting. “Fuck what I said, Bryce. I don’t want soft. I want hard. Fuck me. Fuck me now.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Marjorie
Bryce flattened me on my back and hovered above me, sweat dripping from his brow. “You sure?” he panted.
I bit my lip. “God, yes. Get inside me.”
And then I was full, so complete, his cock so deep that he touched the edge of my soul.