Authors: Vivian Arend
Becki tilted back her head and laughed, the sound bursting out and making him realize
he’d been staring instead of moving out of the way.
She held up her coat. “If you grab this, I’ll get the food. I didn’t want to try to
balance it all at one time.”
“I can get it—”
“No worries. You hold the door.”
Marcus stared mesmerized as her hips swayed when she walked away from him, the bottom
edge of the short skirt flaring around her thighs and flashing him glimpses of the
skin beneath. When she opened the car door and bent over to grab something, the material
rode even higher. Miles of smooth soft skin that was on his menu plan, no matter what
she had in the box she pulled from the backseat.
He intended to taste each and every inch of her before the night was out.
Marcus stepped clear as she moved through the door, the scent of something meaty and
rich wafting past his nose. Becki placed the box on the table and turned toward him.
“You have anything else in the car you need?” he asked.
She hesitated for a moment. “There’s a bag I can get later.”
She had brought things intending to stay the night. Marcus copied her nonchalance
instead of grinning like a maniac. “I’ll grab it now so you don’t have to worry about
it. You spread out dinner.”
Becki tossed him her keys, and he slipped into the cool evening air with a whole lot
of amazing thoughts warming him. As incredible as the sex earlier that day had been,
having Becki James in his home and knowing she wanted to be with him for more than
a mad screw changed something.
Made him eager to see what new lessons they could discover together.
CHAPTER
17
The low-grade fever burning through her simply wouldn’t fade. Dinner had been consumed,
the dishes put away. The visit up to now had been relaxed and easy. Small talk and
lots of laughter.
No blatant innuendo or sexual caresses, but he was right there all the time. Becki
couldn’t move around the table without bumping hips or knocking elbows. She wasn’t
sure if it was all his fault, either, as she caught herself standing one pace too
close to him so that as he turned, there was nowhere for him to go but past her. Brushing
torsos, flirting glances.
He grinned as he held out his hand. “Come on.”
Becki slipped her fingers into his and allowed him to lead her. “Where are we going?”
“Taking a tour.”
She wandered through the house at his side, admiring the dark furniture, the solid
wood side tables, and the stone accents around the fireplace. The heat of his thumb
as he caressed it back and forth over hers made tiny shivers run up her forearm.
“I love the bold colours in here,” Becki said, pulling him to a stop by the couch
and running a hand over the soft leather. “It’s all so grown up.”
Marcus laughed. “Well, thank you, I guess.”
She stepped in front of him and wrapped her free arm around his waist. “Grown up is
a good thing, Marcus. I had mostly thrift shop furniture and cinder-block bookcases
at my old place. I’d never gotten to the point of settling in and making a home. Good
for you.”
“I like my comforts,” he drawled.
They stared at each other for a moment, silence stretching and drawing out the anticipation.
Then he broke the spell and drew her down the hall, past a guest bath and a small
office. All the way to the master bedroom. No dark wood in here, only a bed big enough
for all kinds of acrobatics plus a full line of floor-to-ceiling windows facing the
mountain range. The deck outside the French doors supported a hot tub and sturdy wrought-iron
furniture.
Becki swallowed hard as Marcus stepped behind her and leaned over to kiss the exposed
nape of her neck.
“This room is also grown up, don’t you think?”
“Very.” No frilly decorations like candles or silk pillows, but the room screamed
comfort. Seduction. A world apart from the IKEA bed she’d been bunking on in the dorms.
His tongue teased her skin, tasting her, making all sorts of lovely after-dinner entertainments
come to mind.
He trailed his fingers up her arm, his left forearm wrapped around her waist to pull
her against him. There was no denying he desired her as the hard length of his cock
made contact with her back. “Hot tub?”
“Lovely.” Becki twisted in his arms. “I hope you don’t mind me skinny dipping. I forgot
my swimsuit.”
Marcus leaned over and brushed their lips together, only for a second before pulling
back to speak against her mouth. “Why does that not surprise me?”
“Tell me you’re disappointed,” she whispered.
“I am.” She must have made a face because he grinned. “Don’t look so surprised. I
was looking forward to ordering you to go without, and now you’ve stolen my thunder.”
Oh really? “Well, perhaps you’ll have to find something else to order me to do, then.”
He released her and stepped back, his expression tightening as he looked her over.
“Now there’s an idea. What kind of commands would you enjoy, Becki? Shall we play
that game in the bedroom as well as on the wall?”
What was he doing? “On the wall?”
He stepped to the high dresser to his right and held out a familiar dark swatch of
fabric. The blindfold from the other day’s climb.
Suddenly all her fantasies of this evening were wiped clean. She had memories of all
kinds of games with him, but they’d never used a blindfold during the wild romp so
long ago. “Marcus . . .”
He shrugged. “Your choice.”
But he didn’t withdraw the blindfold.
She stepped forward, ignoring his offering for a moment, pressing herself tight to
his body as she caught hold of his face and kissed him hard. She was the aggressor
this time, and he let her explore. Let her stroke her tongue over his teeth, allowed
her to nibble on his lower lip, her fingers slipping into his hair as she took what
she wanted. Snatching a few seconds of control before she softened her touch. Eased
back, their lips separating with a quiet sigh.
As she stepped away, observing the fire in his eyes, she slid her fingers along his
forearm to his wrist, to his palm. She tugged the fabric free from his grasp.
Covering her eyes meant all her other senses kicked into higher gear. She listened
for any indication of what might come next. She waited, shifting her balance onto
the balls of her feet as she wondered exactly what he had planned. Because she was
ready for anything he wanted to dish out.
It wasn’t that she heard him, but she felt him. Standing right beside her mere seconds
before he stroked her arm again. Back of the knuckles? Fingertips? She wasn’t sure,
only he teased from her wrist all the way to her shoulder, finishing with his lips.
“Very nice. Your nipples have hardened. Can you feel them pressing against your dress?”
She nodded, unable to speak past the knot of rising lust. If she could have said something,
she would have told him she was also wet, an aching sensation growing between her
thighs.
“As much as I loved this afternoon, I want you a whole different way this time. I
find myself wanting to anticipate. To prolong coming together until we’re both ready
to burst.”
“Try five minutes ago, then,” Becki managed to say, steadying herself more solidly
on her feet in the hopes she wouldn’t melt into a puddle.
Her zipper released. One tooth at a time, the rasping loud in her ears as the fabric
peeled back to allow a brush of cooler air over her heated skin. His hand landed on
her shoulder and pushed off one strap, letting it fall to the side and expose the
upper swell of her right breast.
This time she heard when he drew in a breath of air. Controlling himself, perhaps?
Not that she cared if he lost control and threw her on the bed this moment. She was
more than ready for him.
But the going slow was very nice as well. If
nice
was anywhere near the correct word.
“No bra.” Marcus slid his hand down her waist and over her ass. “No panties as well,
or will I find a thong to explain why you have no lines?”
“Thong.” A very wet one by now, if she guessed right.
“Hmm.” The sound rumbled from some point below her, and she was the one to gasp when
he touched the inside of her thigh, edging the bottom of her skirt up slightly as
he reached underneath and caught hold of the fabric.
Without the ability to see, she found that her skin was far more sensitive, the rub
of the material as he tugged it down her limbs sending out small tingles, all of which
seemed to rebound back and hit her in the core. She caught his head in her hands.
She brushed her fingers through his hair, leaning one hand on his shoulder as he indicated
for her to lift her foot.
One breast was exposed, nothing else on under the flimsy layer of her sundress. Becki
arched her back and waited, longing for him to touch her again.
When he wrapped his lips around her nipple, she gasped in delight. The other shoulder
strap fell away, and the dress slipped down, catching momentarily on her hips before
Marcus brushed it to the floor.
He kissed the other nipple, laving his tongue around the tip to moisten it before
pulling off with a light popping sound.
She swayed on her feet as he withdrew. Naked, unable to see what he was doing. But
she figured she knew pretty well he wasn’t disappointed.
“You’re grinning like a cat that’s got the cream,” Marcus pointed out.
“Nice analogy. I’m enjoying this blindfold thing. What are you planning next?”
What he planned apparently involved dropping to his knees again and covering her sex
with his mouth. No further warning, just a single clasp around her butt to hold her
in place, then a determined assault to drive her mad. He licked along her labia, using
his fingers to open her curls. Tongue tip teasing the sensitive spot at the apex of
her slit until her legs quivered.
A finger slid into her core and she widened her stance, thrusting her hips against
him to try for more. The little extra she needed to get the detonation building inside
her to trigger. He added another finger, pumping lazily while his tongue and teeth
worked her to the brink.
“Touch your breasts,” Marcus commanded. “Grab those rings and tug them the way you
like.”
Becki didn’t hesitate, raising her hands and cupping herself, thumb and forefingers
rolling the tiny loops she’d placed in before getting dressed. The small bite of pain
shook her hard, and she gasped.
“Oh yeah, that’s it. I knew the instant you tugged—your body squeezed so tight. I
want to be in you again, Becki. Wrap your sweet cunt around my cock and let you squeeze
me like that as you go off.”
She was going to suggest he should stop talking and use his lips on her a little more,
but the deep timbre of his voice stroked her as hard as his tongue.
“Do it,” she begged. “I want you.”
“Oh no, this time is for you.” Marcus slid his fingers in, rubbing over a spot deep
inside that made her head spin. “You’re going to come for me. Standing, your legs
ready to give out, but you won’t fall because I’ve got you.”
He did. He had her tangled into a throbbing heap, and when he touched her with his
mouth, it was too much. Fingers thrusting, pushing her as he moved again and again.
His tongue hard on her clit, satisfied sounds rising as he greedily ate her pussy.
She pinched her nipples as he’d told her to, and the wave slammed into her. Sharp.
Hard. Her sex constricting, breath catching in her throat. It wasn’t enough—not nearly
enough.
“Marcus, oh God.”
He slowed, fingers easing from her before slipping in one last time. Once more. Every
brush set off another wave, and he held her upright with his left forearm and bicep,
her hands clinging to his head and shoulders.
A tender kiss landed on her belly. He stood, gently helping her find her balance.
He kissed her and she tasted herself on his tongue. The taste of sex and desire, and
longing for more tangled with satisfaction.
Her curiosity rose. “Can I take off the blindfold?”
“No.” He caught her hand in his and brought it to his chest. “Undress me.”
“While I’m blindfolded?”
He didn’t answer.
Becki started on his buttons, moving until their hips were touching and he had to
hold on to her. The texture of his shirt was slightly rough, a brushed cotton that
dragged over her skin like sensual sandpaper—impossible to ignore, impossibly erotic.
The first button popped through the hole, and she swore she heard it. Felt the teasing
rub of the dusting of hair on his chest. When she pulled the shirt from him, she took
every advantage of the chance to study him with her fingertips.
“This is nice,” Becki mused.
“Nice?” The tension in his voice made it clear her touch was getting to him as much
as he had gotten to her.
“I loved our shower sex, but there’s something to be said for a long, slow seduction.”
She leaned over to press a kiss to his firm abdomen, soft curls tickling her nose,
urging her to follow the treasure trail as it vanished into his slacks, and he sucked
in a gasp.
“Only who is seducing who?” he asked.
“Does it matter?”
“Not really. Not this time.”
She was too preoccupied to think that through. Popping open his button, easing the
zipper over his rigid cock—those things were on her mind now. She wasn’t willing to
be distracted from the wonderful task at hand.
Getting Marcus naked.
She tugged the jeans off his hips, reaching impatiently to see what he was wearing.
Her fingers met boxer briefs, wetness marking the spot where the rounded head of his
cock pressed the fabric. “Hmm, someone else is ready to go off soon.”
She moved blindly, but with her hands to guide her she leaned forward and found his
shaft, dragging her teeth lightly along the length, wetting him even more.
“Becki. Take them off.”
Guttural. Harsh. She was swamped by the power in his command and hurried to obey,
dragging the material down and helping him step out from where it bunched around his
ankles. Then she was up and reaching for him, finding his hard shaft and fisting her
fingers around him. She pumped slowly, firmly. Listening for a sound from his lips.
A groan, a swear.
A command.
When it came, she shivered with delight.
“Suck me. Get me wet, and cover me with your mouth.”
She obeyed eagerly, reaching forward with her tongue to catch the first taste of him,
the salty essence spreading through her system like ambrosia. His taste thrilled her,
his long low moan of satisfaction making her smile as she opened her mouth and sank
over him.
Working his cock with her tongue and lips shouldn’t turn her on this much. There was
nothing against her body, no smooth caress of her skin, and yet she felt as if a million
butterflies glided over her, teasing and edging her closer to another orgasm, all
without a touch.