Fit to be Tied (Marshals 2)

I thought I’d want to lie on our sides together, have him slowly undulate against me and pump in and out in a languid rhythm. But what I wanted was for him to hold me down and put marks on me and fuck me until I screamed his name.

“Ian, please.”

“Tell me,” he said raggedly, his voice thick with passion.

“On my knees.”

He shifted positions with me, following as I rolled to my stomach and lifted. He moved inside me, his cock brushing over the spot that made me jolt under him and tighten around his length. I let my head slip down between my shoulders, trembling, feeling my balls tighten as he pounded into me, one hand tight on my hip, the other on the back of my neck.

I wanted to grab my cock, but I had to lock my arms and curl my fingers into the blanket. If I held tight, I wouldn’t give when he pistoned inside, and that was what I wanted, to feel his cock fill me and then pull out again and again. I wanted to be used hard.

“I have wanted you like this for so goddamn long,” he groaned, pummeling me, giving me the fucking I craved, shoving his cock in to the hilt until I screamed his name and came thick and hot, nothing left of me in that moment except my desire for him.

He came, and I felt him ejaculate before he collapsed across my back, hand on my chin to turn my head enough so he could kiss me.

“It’s stupid—” He kissed me. “—to say right now—” Another. “—but M, I—” He sucked on my tongue, my lips. “I love you. You’re all I want. All I’ll ever want.”

I smiled against his lips.

“I’m so fuckin’ lucky and I want you to know I know. I’ll never take this for granted, never take us for granted. I swear to God.”

“I love you too,” I promised. “But you know that already.”

“Yeah, I do,” he sighed, twitching as my muscles contracted around him, the suction too tight for him to ease free.

“You should pull out,” I said, even though I wasn’t really ready for that yet.

“In a second,” he informed me, his voice soft, like a caress, before he kissed me again. “I like where I am.”

And God, so did I.

AFTER THE blanket got wadded up and thrown in the washer, we took a quick shower together and finally ate dinner, only about six hours late. The steaks were good, as were the accompanying asparagus tips and salad. Since he’d cooked, I did the dishes as he cleared the table and dried. As he moved around me to put things away, I noted the whistling.

“You’re going to be impossible to live with.”

The waggle of eyebrows told me he was, just in case I had missed the smirk or the swaggering walk across the kitchen. He leaned in and kissed me, all heat and dominance, pressing me back into the counter, flipping the dish towel over his shoulder so he could take my face in his hands. He slowed then, his kisses becoming long and deep, and I lost track of anything but his wicked tongue, his teeth on my lips, and his soft, urgent noises. When his knee spread my thighs and his hand slipped up under my T-shirt to my nipple, rubbing, pinching, I almost came right there. Apparently in all the months we’d been having sex, he’d been watching and listening and now knew exactly the things that turned my key, big time. When he leaned back, just enough to speak, we were both panting.

“I enjoyed what we did,” he murmured, “and I want to do it again, whenever I want, whenever I need, whenever you do.”

“Uh-huh,” I agreed, more kissing and stroking taking precedence over words at the moment. My hunger for him had not been sated; he’d be under me as soon as I got him to bed.

“And if we both want something at the same time, then we should be able to talk about it or—”

I chuckled. “I don’t see us fighting to top.”

“Yeah, but what if we do?”

He was worried, not wanting his new craving to interfere with our dynamic.

“Could you see that happening?”

He thought a moment. “I… no.”

“How come?”

“Well, because mostly I like it how it’s been… I need it how it’s been.”

“So, you see,” I confirmed. “We’re okay, baby, I swear.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Nothing’s changed?”

“No.”

He cleared his throat. “Then can we leave the rest of this cleaning for tomorrow and just go to bed?”

I had the urge to laugh, a big sound bubbling up out of my throat, not because anything was funny, but because of how happy I was. “Yeah, we can do that.”

His sigh was long as he turned for the stairs. “You know, sometimes I’m so happy I worry that I’m gonna wake up.”