She’s overthinking it. Backing off my anger, I reach for her again, sliding my hands over her ass and cupping her firmly against my body. She can feel what I want, but I’ll make it clear.
“I want the same thing you want from me.” Her hands are open, palms against my chest, and I lean down to kiss her again.
I don’t have to hold her head, force her lips to cooperate. She’s kissing me back. Her palms slide up my chest and around my neck. Her mouth moves with mine, and I lift my chin, pausing for a moment, studying her face.
“I was wrong,” she says, naughty grin in place. “You’re not wicked. You’re dangerous.”
“Bet your fucking ass I am.”
* * *
Amy
Kissing Marcus is like touching my lips to an electric fence. My entire body lights up, and heat floods my core. In a sweep, I’m in his arms, legs around his waist, as he carries me to his bedroom. The last time we were here it was crazy, frantic. This time, he’s in control, and he’s taking his time.
“Stand up.” It’s a low command that flickers excitement in my belly. I lower my legs to the floor watching his darkened eyes. “Turn around.”
I do as he says, and he slides my hair over my shoulder, grasping the zipper on my dress. The light fabric drops down my arms, catching at my waist. Large palms slide over my bare hips, pushing the dress the rest of the way, leaving me standing in only my bra and lace thong. Black last time, nude this time.
His hands move to my stomach, pulling my back to his chest. Will they go up or down? For the moment, those hands stay put, holding me still while his mouth finds the side of my neck.
Just like before in Wilmington, he doesn’t kiss me. His lips graze over my skin, his teeth touch my neck, and he lightly inhales my scent. When he reaches the place behind my ear, chills scatter down my legs, and I have to reach back to hold him.
“Oh, god,” I gasp. It’s too much sensation as his large hand moves down, slipping inside the edge of my panties.
He’s got me, and he’s circling, playing with my clit before sliding a finger lower, dipping inside. A growl rumbles against my back.
“You’re so wet,” he groans, lifting me forward and pushing me onto the bed.
I’m crazy with desire as I feel him grasp my panties and jerk them down my hips A sharp “Oh!” flies from my lips as he shoves my thighs apart and I feel the slow drag of his tongue from my clit to the deepest part of me.
“Oh, shit, Marcus!” My hips jerk involuntarily as he teases me with his tongue, and I hear the clink of his belt as he unfastens it.
His large hand is on my lower back, holding me down. I’m flat on my stomach, spread like a picnic, and I’m only a few circles from screaming. Fluttering pre-orgasms tingle in the arches of my feet, and his thumb presses inside me, making me moan.
“Fuck, Amy, I want to fuck you so hard.”
“Yes,” I gasp. “Please.” My hand reaches out, over my head, and he keeps going, fucking me with his tongue. “Marcus!” My voice has gone high as my thighs start to shudder. Fizzy rockets of pleasure snake up my limbs.
I hear the tear of foil and fast movements. He pulls back, kissing the top of my ass before pausing and giving me a bite.
“Ow!” I shriek, but it’s more playful, dazed than painful.
At that very moment, he’s over me, positioning the head of his cock just before driving deep inside, stretching me in the most delicious way. We both let out loud groans. His laced with swears, and he hits me so hard, I scoot forward on the mattress.
He’s pushing harder, faster. Reaching out to hold, I feel his fist tighten in the top of my hair. His other hand slams against the mattress, and he thrusts even deeper into me.
“Oh, god!” My voice is a shrill wail, but I’m pushing against the bed, against any opposing surface to drive myself back into him, to send him further into me.
“Amy, shit,” he shouts. Sweat coats our bodies, and we’re hitting so hard, as if we’re trying to fuse our bodies together through sex alone.
Marcus is rocking me, stretching me, hitting me deep in the exact right spot, grinding my pussy against the mattress, filling me with such force. I know I’ll feel this tomorrow every time I move.
He pulls my hair, bracing my head against his chest, lifting me off the bed as he grabs my clit. “Come,” he grinds against my shoulder, then sucks my skin into a rough bite.
The pain and the raw violence of it splits me in two. I wail as pleasure floods my shuddering insides, shaking me to my toes. My head is so hot and tight, I don’t even realize I’m still moaning loudly, bucking my hips to ride out the aftershocks, until the blackness begins to subside.
That’s when I realize he’s there, right at the edge. I’m working him, and his teeth are at my neck. His lips are parted, and I hear his ragged breathing as he reaches the edge...