Marx Girl

Every touch is so intimate.

His lips dust over my sex and I lean forward just that bit more.

Taste me… taste me, I chant to myself.

He kisses my inner thigh and my eyes close. I glance back over my shoulder and see him flat on his back, knees slightly parted, and his thick cock hard up against his stomach.

He kisses my other thigh and then licks it. My sex clenches in anticipation.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve watched you across that pool and imagined this,” he purrs.

My eyes close. Just the sound of his deep voice with that accent could get me off. I rock forward again. I desperately need him to touch me. He gently kisses my sex, and I hold my breath as I lean forward onto my elbows.

God, just fucking touch me already.

His tongue gently swipes through my open lips and I sigh. He licks softly again and again, and I can’t breathe.

His hands are on my behind, guiding my hips to move over his face.

Back and forth, back and forth he rocks my body, his tongue going deeper and deeper.

“Don’t come,” he growls into me. His hands squeeze my ass cheeks as he uses force to push me down onto him.

He growls into me, as if losing control, and I begin to pant as my body starts to move on its own.

Oh, this is so fucking good. My mouth hangs open.

“Ben,” I moan as my hips rock. “Ben.” My head falls back and I let go of the headboard and sit up. “I need you deeper. Please,” I beg.

His eyes flicker with arousal that’s almost frightening, and he lifts me off him to lay me on my side, facing our friends.

I close my eyes as his lips drop to my neck. “Watch them,” he whispers darkly. “Feel me while you watch them.”

My sex clenches as he lifts himself snug behind me and slowly unties my bikini top, tossing it to the side. His lips drop to my neck and he bites me hard. I cry out, and then he rubs the oil into my breasts. He lifts my top leg over his forearm and his hard cock rubs between my cheeks.

“You know what I want?” he breathes against my neck. His breath dusts my ear and goose bumps scatter down my spine.

“Take it,” I pant.

He smiles against the side of my face. “I wasn’t asking for permission, angel.”

I smile as my eyes close.

He lines himself up at my back entrance. “Kiss me,” he breathes. I turn my head and kiss his beautiful lips as I taste my own arousal. He pushes forward and I wince in pain.

“Ouch,” I whimper.

“Kiss me,” he growls. His fingers drop to circle over my clitoris, and within moments I loosen up and he slides in deep.

Our kiss turns frantic and he pulls out, and then slides deep again.

Oh, God, this is so intimate. It’s too much.

He grabs the oil and pours it over the place our bodies meet, then throws it off the bed, losing control.

“I need this so fucking bad,” he breathes into my ear.

“So do I,” I pant as his open mouth slides up and down, over my neck and jawline.

He lifts my leg higher and begins to ride me. Long, deep pumps.

My eyes roll back into my head and the sound of our skin slapping together echoes around the room.

I look up and see his friends only feet away, oblivious to what he’s doing to my body, and that’s it… I can’t take it.

I lose control.

“Ben!” I cry out as my body contracts around his.

“Fuck,” he growls. “Fucking hell, Bridget,” he cries and I feel him quiver deep inside me. We move slowly, our bodies completely in sync as we ride out the waves of pleasure.

We are covered in perspiration. I smile against his face as he holds me close. “You’re a dirty man,” I whisper.

He kisses me. “That makes you Mrs. Dirty.”

The alarm echoes through the house.

“Fuck!” Ben snaps as he jumps up.

I sit up, half asleep, and glance at the clock next to the bed. It’s 2:00 a.m. He turns the light on and drags on a pair of shorts.

“Get dressed,” he barks as he grabs his gun from the side table.

I hear a door bang in the distance. Then another bang, as if something hits the wall. I grab my robe from the floor and the lights go out.

“What happened?” I whisper.

“The power’s been cut.”

23

Bridget

“What?” Oh, my God. I throw my gown around my shoulders.

Ben grabs me from behind, pulling me into his arms, and puts his gun in front of us.

“On the roof,” I hear through a radio, or something similar.

“What’s that?” I whisper into the darkness.

“My earpiece. Jed is on the roof.”

I can feel Ben’s heart beating hard against my back.

“Ninety seconds and the generator clicks in,” he says, not to me, but to the guys. They must all have earpieces in.