fuck me right here and take away all the pain. I wanted him to make me forget Jude ever existed, to teach me to forget about the damage I’d inflicted. If only he knew how I really felt. If only he knew how much I’d needed him from the moment I first saw him…
I tried to turn from him and hide my desire, but he used my movement against me, spinning my body and folding me over the side of a tall bed that was hidden away in the corner of the space. I made a soft whimper as he pressed my face against the blankets, the heat of his flesh held against me like a burning torch.
I wanted to buck against him, to push him off, but where I expected the roughness of Jude’s fists, I met only with tender firmness of Marcus’s touch. His hands ran up my sides, holding me, guiding me, but not hurting me. My body quivered as his hand trailed up along the side of my ribcage, reaching beneath me along the silken blouse to cup my bra-free breast.
There are moments where you lose control of your body, where every ounce of you wants something despite all rhyme or reason. Feeling Marcus against me, his heat, his strength… Pleasure radiated out from my core.
“You saved me,” I whispered, no longer fighting him. “But Jude will come back.”
Black pulled away, leaving me silent against the bed.
“And now I’m just as fucking bad as he is…” Black said, a sound of pain in his voice. “I’m sorry Kat. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
I stared back at him, my eyes pleading in ways my body couldn’t. Black stood silhouetted in the space between light and dark. His body was muscular but roughly hewn, like a masterpiece carved from rock and left unfinished. I watched the rise and fall of his chest, marveled at the way his jaw sat ever so square, gazed at the lines now so evident down each of his arms.
“I’m not like this sweetheart… You’re bringing something out in me I haven’t felt in a long time. I had to fight myself to leave your room that first night you showed up in my fucking club. You’re in my head. You should run away from here. Run away and never come back because I don’t think I can control myself around you. I don’t want you mixed up in this shit.”
There it was, the pain in his eyes I knew so well. I’d seen it in my own, day in, day out.
“What happened to you Marcus?”
Black collapsed backward against a wall, holding himself upright as I moved to sit on the bed.
“My old man happened. Started this little fight club, beat my mother, beat me, started bringing drugs into the warehouse. Man was an asshole. Never even got the chance to step to him, he crashed a car on the westside and the men sent him out like some kind of fucking war hero.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry, that asshole deserved worse.”
“I meant, I’m sorry for you. Is that why you…” I asked, looking at his arm. He seemed to draw away into his own skin.
“No. The reason for that is even worse, sweetheart.”
“Black…”
“Yes?”
“Come here…”
He sat there as my body quivered with need. Every square inch of my skin was crying out for his heat against it. Black stepped away from the wall, tentatively, slowly, as he crossed the room.
“Breathe for me,” I whispered as I reached out and grabbed his hips, pulling him closer. He towered over my petite body, his hulking mass every bit as fearsome as Jude ever was. Without so much as a whisper I stood before him, my fingertips running over his shoulders. The scars were deep. I could feel each of them like rings in a tree trunk. They were a history of pain, a journal of horror. I let y hands slide downward, running them forward across his chest and down his rippling abs. My eyes traced from his chin and followed my fingertips.
Desire, slick and hot, was coursing through my body and propelling my touch. Somehow, I’d lost myself. I wasn’t
I tried to turn from him and hide my desire, but he used my movement against me, spinning my body and folding me over the side of a tall bed that was hidden away in the corner of the space. I made a soft whimper as he pressed my face against the blankets, the heat of his flesh held against me like a burning torch.
I wanted to buck against him, to push him off, but where I expected the roughness of Jude’s fists, I met only with tender firmness of Marcus’s touch. His hands ran up my sides, holding me, guiding me, but not hurting me. My body quivered as his hand trailed up along the side of my ribcage, reaching beneath me along the silken blouse to cup my bra-free breast.
There are moments where you lose control of your body, where every ounce of you wants something despite all rhyme or reason. Feeling Marcus against me, his heat, his strength… Pleasure radiated out from my core.
“You saved me,” I whispered, no longer fighting him. “But Jude will come back.”
Black pulled away, leaving me silent against the bed.
“And now I’m just as fucking bad as he is…” Black said, a sound of pain in his voice. “I’m sorry Kat. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
I stared back at him, my eyes pleading in ways my body couldn’t. Black stood silhouetted in the space between light and dark. His body was muscular but roughly hewn, like a masterpiece carved from rock and left unfinished. I watched the rise and fall of his chest, marveled at the way his jaw sat ever so square, gazed at the lines now so evident down each of his arms.
“I’m not like this sweetheart… You’re bringing something out in me I haven’t felt in a long time. I had to fight myself to leave your room that first night you showed up in my fucking club. You’re in my head. You should run away from here. Run away and never come back because I don’t think I can control myself around you. I don’t want you mixed up in this shit.”
There it was, the pain in his eyes I knew so well. I’d seen it in my own, day in, day out.
“What happened to you Marcus?”
Black collapsed backward against a wall, holding himself upright as I moved to sit on the bed.
“My old man happened. Started this little fight club, beat my mother, beat me, started bringing drugs into the warehouse. Man was an asshole. Never even got the chance to step to him, he crashed a car on the westside and the men sent him out like some kind of fucking war hero.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry, that asshole deserved worse.”
“I meant, I’m sorry for you. Is that why you…” I asked, looking at his arm. He seemed to draw away into his own skin.
“No. The reason for that is even worse, sweetheart.”
“Black…”
“Yes?”
“Come here…”
He sat there as my body quivered with need. Every square inch of my skin was crying out for his heat against it. Black stepped away from the wall, tentatively, slowly, as he crossed the room.
“Breathe for me,” I whispered as I reached out and grabbed his hips, pulling him closer. He towered over my petite body, his hulking mass every bit as fearsome as Jude ever was. Without so much as a whisper I stood before him, my fingertips running over his shoulders. The scars were deep. I could feel each of them like rings in a tree trunk. They were a history of pain, a journal of horror. I let y hands slide downward, running them forward across his chest and down his rippling abs. My eyes traced from his chin and followed my fingertips.
Desire, slick and hot, was coursing through my body and propelling my touch. Somehow, I’d lost myself. I wasn’t
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