But I win.”
Marcus smirks. “I’m pretty sure I just won.”
I give him a playful swat on one cheek.
His expression turns hard; for a minute, I think I’ve offended. But then his grin spreads wide. “You should do that again.”
“What? Slap you?” I ask. Certainly there have been times I’ve wanted to slap him in the past twenty-four hours, but this isn’t really one of them.
“I think you’re going to find,” he murmurs, “that I’m very difficult to keep in line.”
With one hand, he reaches behind me, and eases the zipper down on my pencil skirt. I help him shove it down off of my hips, and he tugs at the lacy straps of my panties. Yes, I wore lacy panties. Because a small part of me was hoping for exactly this:
Marcus Wright. Pinned before me.
Obeying my every command.
And loving it.
“You see?” He slips two fingers through the thigh hole of he panties, and grazes his nail right against the edge of my clit. “This is so much better.”
“Fuck,” I breathe. There’s no arguing that. But I’m not quite ready to let him win just yet. I swat his hand away and slide my own fingers between my folds, teasing. My back arches; I shudder with a gasp.
“Dammit.” Marcus shifts beneath me. “Please. I want to feel it when you come.”
“There’ll be time for that.”
He bites hard into his lower lip. He looks so petulant, so mischievous. It’s so goddamned hot. I press my fingers hard inside me, and the world spins as the cold washes through me. Maybe I cry out—I can’t quite be sure. For a few moments, everything fades away.
“Please,” Marcus begs. “I want to make you come, too.”
I silence him by slipping the same fingers I just used to please myself into his mouth.
He gladly licks my fingers, sucks at them, grinning like I’ve given him an incredible gift. It’s a look I could get used to.
Once he’s done, I back down, still on fours over him, and work his belt buckle and fly open. “Oh, god,” Marcus cries, as I ease his jeans and boxer briefs down his hips.
Oh, god is right.
His shaft is at full attention, thick and firm. I wrap my hand around it and grin up at him from between his legs.
“Please,” Marcus begs. “I’ll do anything. I’ll be your slut all you want. Please, just let me see that vicious tongue of yours in action.”
“You’ll be my slut?” I arch my eyebrow at him. “What exactly does that entail?”
“Whatever you want it to entail.” He rocks his hips toward me. “Eating out that gorgeous pussy. Fucking you every which way you please. Your wish is my command.”
“Mm.” I give his shaft a quick pump and he groans. “Tell me more what you’d like to do for me.”
And then I wrap my lips around his cock.
“Oh, fuck. Well—first, I’d let you ride me—” He shudders and twitches as I suck him, hard. “Thrust up into you and make you scream.”
“Mm.” I lift my lips from him. “Keep going.”
“Then I’d bend you over my kitchen counter so I could really appreciate that gorgeous, peach-ripe ass.”
I groan, unable to stop myself from imagining the feel of him slamming into me from behind. Especially these strong, powerful hips . . . these well-muscled thighs of onyx . . . I want it all. I take him into my mouth again and move my lips up and down, relishing the way it makes him tense and moan.
“I’m going to fuck you,” I tell him, backing away. “I’m going to ride you, just like you said. But it’s going to be on my terms. Is that okay with you?”
His mouth rounds into a gentle O. He’s looking at me like I just called down the moon for him. God, it’s intoxicating, the way Marcus makes me feel. I want to make him feel that way, too.
“Please,” he whispers. “Yes. Please.”
I stand up and peel off my panties. The only clothing I have left on is my bra, and if I’m going to be on top of him, I’d prefer the support. Slowly, as slow as I can, I shimmy my way back down to my knees, straddling him,
Marcus smirks. “I’m pretty sure I just won.”
I give him a playful swat on one cheek.
His expression turns hard; for a minute, I think I’ve offended. But then his grin spreads wide. “You should do that again.”
“What? Slap you?” I ask. Certainly there have been times I’ve wanted to slap him in the past twenty-four hours, but this isn’t really one of them.
“I think you’re going to find,” he murmurs, “that I’m very difficult to keep in line.”
With one hand, he reaches behind me, and eases the zipper down on my pencil skirt. I help him shove it down off of my hips, and he tugs at the lacy straps of my panties. Yes, I wore lacy panties. Because a small part of me was hoping for exactly this:
Marcus Wright. Pinned before me.
Obeying my every command.
And loving it.
“You see?” He slips two fingers through the thigh hole of he panties, and grazes his nail right against the edge of my clit. “This is so much better.”
“Fuck,” I breathe. There’s no arguing that. But I’m not quite ready to let him win just yet. I swat his hand away and slide my own fingers between my folds, teasing. My back arches; I shudder with a gasp.
“Dammit.” Marcus shifts beneath me. “Please. I want to feel it when you come.”
“There’ll be time for that.”
He bites hard into his lower lip. He looks so petulant, so mischievous. It’s so goddamned hot. I press my fingers hard inside me, and the world spins as the cold washes through me. Maybe I cry out—I can’t quite be sure. For a few moments, everything fades away.
“Please,” Marcus begs. “I want to make you come, too.”
I silence him by slipping the same fingers I just used to please myself into his mouth.
He gladly licks my fingers, sucks at them, grinning like I’ve given him an incredible gift. It’s a look I could get used to.
Once he’s done, I back down, still on fours over him, and work his belt buckle and fly open. “Oh, god,” Marcus cries, as I ease his jeans and boxer briefs down his hips.
Oh, god is right.
His shaft is at full attention, thick and firm. I wrap my hand around it and grin up at him from between his legs.
“Please,” Marcus begs. “I’ll do anything. I’ll be your slut all you want. Please, just let me see that vicious tongue of yours in action.”
“You’ll be my slut?” I arch my eyebrow at him. “What exactly does that entail?”
“Whatever you want it to entail.” He rocks his hips toward me. “Eating out that gorgeous pussy. Fucking you every which way you please. Your wish is my command.”
“Mm.” I give his shaft a quick pump and he groans. “Tell me more what you’d like to do for me.”
And then I wrap my lips around his cock.
“Oh, fuck. Well—first, I’d let you ride me—” He shudders and twitches as I suck him, hard. “Thrust up into you and make you scream.”
“Mm.” I lift my lips from him. “Keep going.”
“Then I’d bend you over my kitchen counter so I could really appreciate that gorgeous, peach-ripe ass.”
I groan, unable to stop myself from imagining the feel of him slamming into me from behind. Especially these strong, powerful hips . . . these well-muscled thighs of onyx . . . I want it all. I take him into my mouth again and move my lips up and down, relishing the way it makes him tense and moan.
“I’m going to fuck you,” I tell him, backing away. “I’m going to ride you, just like you said. But it’s going to be on my terms. Is that okay with you?”
His mouth rounds into a gentle O. He’s looking at me like I just called down the moon for him. God, it’s intoxicating, the way Marcus makes me feel. I want to make him feel that way, too.
“Please,” he whispers. “Yes. Please.”
I stand up and peel off my panties. The only clothing I have left on is my bra, and if I’m going to be on top of him, I’d prefer the support. Slowly, as slow as I can, I shimmy my way back down to my knees, straddling him,
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