Tied Up in Knots (Marshals 3)

“But it’s not gonna happen,” he said, forcing me to turn around and face him, manhandling me so there was no choice, we were that close. “We want two different things ’cause we’re two different people.” It was difficult to focus on his words when his jeans were shoved half way down his muscular thighs. “But you knew the job was dangerous when you took it.”

“Job?”

“Loving me,” he explained, his lip curling into a rakish grin.

I searched his eyes, the blown pupils letting me know—as if his own erect, dripping cock bumping mine didn’t—that he was very much aroused.

He stepped into me, wrapping his big, strong hand around us both as he first traced the seam of my lips with his tongue before taking my mouth in a hard, plundering kiss.

I moaned deep, no way not to, and the answering rough chuckle made me smile.

“Concentrate,” he ground out before he shoved his tongue inside, pushing and rubbing, hungry and urgent, his teeth bumping my lips as he began stroking us both, the languid movement in direct contrast to the raw possessiveness of the violent, ravenous kiss.

Ian had a way—this dizzying, breathless way—of getting me to melt into him, wrap my arms around his neck and simply hold on as he became the epicenter of all my yearning, of all my devouring, ravenous need.

I was his, I belonged to him, there was no end to that, and he knew it. Knew he could take until there was nothing left. I loved all the way; I held nothing back. I was lucky he was the same.

“Ian,” I gasped because I had to have more. More friction, more pressure, more slide. When I tried to add my hand over his, I was surprised when he shoved me off.

Bumping me back against the counter, he dropped quickly to his knees.

His eyes were like a slice of midnight, and I could only watch, not trusting myself to speak or move, as he leaned forward and took me down the back of his throat.

“Jesus,” I whispered hoarsely, grabbing the counter behind me, gripping tight as my knees nearly buckled with the force of the suction on my dick.

Ian, who had never given head before he was with me, knew what he liked when I did it, and so did the same. Sucking and laving, his nose buried in my pubes one second, pulling back a moment later, he was in constant motion that threatened to have me spilling down his throat if he didn’t stop and let me breathe.

I clutched his head, tipping his face back so I could stare down into his gorgeous eyes. Being swallowed in all that deep dark blue made my heart clench.

“I don’t wanna… come.”

The smile he gave me, wicked and hot, made me shiver. “But I want you to,” he rumbled, closing his hand around my length, slippery with spit. “I want you to come, and then I wanna swallow it all, and then you’re gonna go upstairs and get on your hands and knees in our bed.”

The sound of his voice, deep and husky, working up from the back of his throat, almost set me off right there.

“All I’ve thought about this whole time,” he murmured, scraping his teeth gently over the head of my cock, “was you.”

“Same,” I promised.

“Then give the fuck in.”

No question. “Yes,” I garbled out as he followed his teeth with his tongue.

“Now, Miro,” he commanded as I slid my hand over the top of his head, brushing my fingers over the short military buzz-cut that would take time to grow out, and yanked him forward so I could fuck his mouth.

Between the heat and pressure, the easy slide and constant rhythm, I was there in seconds, spurting, releasing, giving myself over to him as I had to no one else since he said yes to me the first time.

He swallowed fast but didn’t lick me clean, instead leaving me messy and dripping as he rose and kissed me sloppily, almost drunkenly, mauling my mouth so I could taste myself on his tongue, smell myself on his breath, and know I’d been at his mercy.

When he stepped back, giving me room to gulp air, I got my legs to work, stepped out of my jeans and underwear pooled around my ankles, and moved past him on my way to the stairs.

I didn’t stop. I reached the second floor, stumbled around the railing, and walked to the bed, collapsing down on top of it before pushing myself to my hands and knees.

My heart hammered in my ears, all I could hear, so I jolted when he slid a hand down the middle of my back.

“There’s something about seeing you like this that really fuckin’ does it for me.”

“Why’s that?” I rasped as he got on the bed beside me, smoothing his hands down my sides, tracing over my ribs, my hips, and finally reaching the curve of my ass.