by Jayce Ellis
For years I’d fantasized about what it’d feel like to bottom. To have someone so in charge of my pleasure and be at their whim. Before this, the closest I’d come was Phil, and that had of course been a mess. I’d been afraid to try again, until now.
I didn’t have to worry about Marcus taping this, about Marcus using this night against me somehow. Marcus wouldn’t do that to me. Marcus loved me. I kept that thought in mind and gave over to the sensation, rocking my hips back and forth against Marcus’s ministrations, trying to get the plug as deep into me as I could handle.
“Damn,” Marcus whispered above me. “Look at you like this. You’re ready for me, aren’t you?”
My dick jumped and that was apparently answer enough. Marcus gently withdrew the plug entirely and set it on a towel he’d found somewhere. He massaged my hole with a finger, and I held my legs wider even as it clenched around him.
Marcus grabbed the lube and condoms from the nightstand and tossed them on the mattress. He coated two fingers and slid them in, easy thanks to the plug. I congratulated myself on the foresight. They were warmer, more malleable than the hard rubber I’d worn for hours, and I shifted experimentally. Then he crooked his fingers and yes, this was what I came for. I cursed and let one leg go to grip the base of my dick to keep from spurting. When Marcus leaned down and sucked the head into his mouth, I almost came anyway.
“You need to come to relax?” he asked, and he sounded as on edge as I was. That pulled me back from my own cliff, and I shook my head.
“No. I always—” I swallowed hard “—I always fantasized about coming with you in me.”
He groaned deep in his throat and pressed his head against my stomach like he was as close to the brink as I was, then kissed the base of my dick and straightened.
I stared while he rolled the condom down his length and lubed up. He leaned over and let his lips graze mine, then shifted back and guided his dick into me. We couldn’t kiss like this, so I found his pec and bit down gently. Goddamn. This was...different than I expected. I was used to my fingers, a dildo at the most. Marcus was hot and hard and way fucking bigger than anything I’d had before.
I tried to breathe out and he stopped. “You okay?” he asked, and it sounded like it took all the willpower in the world to get those words out.
“Yeah, just...go slow.”
He grunted. “Trying.” We stayed still for a moment, me getting used to the sensation of not being in charge, of letting someone else take care of me. Marcus looked down and everything in his eyes was everything I’d dreamed of. Cheesy as hell, I know. But seeing them helped me relax. When I kneaded his back, he got the picture and pressed deeper, pushing my breath out of me.
Marcus took his sweet damn time fully seating himself, enough that I was sweating with the strength it had taken me not to come. And, damn, the fullness. Nothing compared to it. I was really doing this. This was really happening.
“You okay?” he asked, and I craned my neck to see him frowning down at me, his chest heaving with exertion.
Oh, my sweet baby was so worried. He wanted to make this good for me. He couldn’t know that he’d already well surpassed that. I smiled, as big and bright as I knew how, and nodded.
“You feel amazing,” I admitted, and he dipped his head. “Show me, Marcus. Show me how it feels.”
He closed his eyes, like he was praying to some deity to help him through this, then pulled back and slammed into me.
“Fuck!” I yelped. “Oh shit, that’s good.” I grabbed at his back, my entire body lit from the inside. Stupid, that I hadn’t known how good it would be with someone I cared for. Better than anything I could have imagined. A lifetime of wonder that I’d never given in before. I was a fucking fool.
And Marcus was a man on a mission, pumping into me like he had months of aggression to get out. Which...never mind. Then he pulled all the way out and I whimpered loudly. I was empty and I hated it. “What—”
“Turn over.”
My dick pulsed at the two-word command. Marcus didn’t wait for me to obey, instead yanking me toward him and flipping me over before climbing on the bed behind me. I felt him crowd into me, his dick nudging at my entrance before he pushed in again. Everything I’d wanted and never had the nerve to express. I let loose a low groan and rubbed my forehead back and forth against the mattress.
“So good, Dre. So good.”
I laughed, a little breathless, then reached behind me and tapped his hip. “Do it, Marc. Fuck me.”
He did, holding my hips steady and dicking me down with long, slow strokes mixed with hard pumps, bringing me closer to that edge. I reached under myself and jacked my dick, and that was it. I came with a shout, coating my hand and the sheets below with my release.
Marcus sped up behind me, pushing me flat on the bed and dropping to his forearms above me, his chest grazing my back as he panted in my ear. “This ass is too tight, Dre. I’m gonna come.”
“Come on me,” I blurted out, then winced when Marcus sank his teeth into my neck. “Wanna feel it.”
“Fuck,” he cursed, then pushed himself up. I heard what I assumed was him yanking off the condom before I felt the warm splatters of come across my back. I tilted my hips and the last bit fell against my ass.
Then nothing but kisses and Marcus running his hand up and down my side. “That another fantasy of yours?”
“You coming on me?” He hummed. “Yeah, it was.”
“Shit’s got me feeling like a fucking caveman,” he said, his voice low and a little in awe in my ear.
I rolled my head to face him. “Why’s that?”
“I wanna push my come up your ass. Put it all back in you.”
My dick ached for another round. I laughed instead. “How about we get some tests done and have a conversation and all before we go there?”
Marcus kissed my shoulder. “Done. You stay there. I’ll be right back.” He climbed off the couch and went to the bathroom.
It was time. I waited for the inevitable recrimination to come, for my brain to remind me that I shouldn’t have just done that, to vow to never do it again. But there was nothing. No anger, no disgust. Just a bone-deep, well-satisfied sense of peace.
Marcus returned with a warm cloth and wiped me down, the first time that had ever happened, then found a dry spot on the bed and pulled me on top of him. “How’re you feeling?” he asked.
That question had little to nothing to do with my ass’s soreness, which probably wouldn’t fully hit ’til the morning. I smiled. “I’m good. Great, actually. You were incredible.” I kissed him slowly, sweetly, reveling in how calm my brain really was. “That was everything I’ve dreamt about.”
He tightened his grip on me. “Good. I’m glad.” He pressed his lips against my temple. “I missed you, Dre.”
I pushed myself up on my forearms and looked down at him. “We still have a lot to talk about.”
Marcus shook his head. “Not tonight, we don’t. We’ve got tomorrow. We can do it then.”
Yes. Yes, we could.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
André
Harold had insisted we meet with the Penningtons and tell them we were together, and let them make the decision whether they wanted to keep us both onboard. In the name of transparency, he said.
So after a weekend spent at the hotel room Marcus had gotten, Clarymore bought him a new plane ticket and he skipped his Monday classes to have this meeting. We walked in holding hands, and I didn’t miss the way Nancy’s eyes lit up, or Neil’s narrowed. Or the way Phil’s face went carefully blank before he picked up his phone and pretended to find whatever he was looking at fascinating.
“Oh my,” Nancy said after we’d taken our seats. “This is quite the development.”
I cleared my throat and Marcus squeezed briefly before letting go. “It really isn’t, and until we kne
w where we were going, we didn’t think it prudent to discuss it openly. But Marcus and I are together and are planning a future.” One day we’d actually have that conversation, but I had no doubt I’d move heaven and earth to make him happy. “Under the circumstances, we wanted you to be aware so you can make any modifications to the team you think are necessary.”
I tried to keep my breathing calm, to not hold my breath or make obvious moves. Next to me, I felt the tension in Marcus’s leg, but knew he was doing the same. If anything happened, it was more likely to be Marcus being replaced than me, but Neil hadn’t wanted to go with me anyway, and this might be the in he needed.
And, of course, he shifted and smiled. Not a pleasant one, mind you, but a smile nonetheless. “You know, Mr. Dennis suggested we include a clause prohibiting anyone on the team from engaging in a personal relationship with another member. That’s grounds to terminate the partnership right now.”
The urge to roll my eyes was strong and I banked it. Barely. “And yet here we are, being honest with you and waiting for you to decide what to do.”
Nancy Pennington sat forward with a small frown on her face. “Don’t be hasty, Neil. They’d have to know we wouldn’t be so technical, else they could have just kept silent.” She peered at both of us. “Why are you telling me now?”
“Because I want to kiss my boyfriend when he visits me,” Marcus said. “I don’t want to look over my shoulder and see if Phil over there is spying on us through a window.”
I opened my mouth, but Nancy spoke first. But not to me, to her grandson. “Neil, you’re dating a Phil, aren’t you? It’s not Mr. Dennis here, is it?”
Now that was news. I looked at Marcus, expecting to see the same surprised reaction at the insinuation. What I found instead was a knowing grin. What the hell?
Neil didn’t look up, instead fiddling with his watch. Nancy reached over and pinched the back of his hand, her too-knowing eyes boring into his. That shit had to hurt.
“Neil, let me ask my question plainly. Are you dating Mr. Dennis?” Nancy was not here for the shits.
“Yes,” was his whispered reply, and lord he sounded like a chastened child.
“And for how long?”
“Since we approached Clarymore about the partnership.”
She nodded. “Whose idea was it to move up the presentation date?”
Motherfucker. Neil glanced up and around the conference room, his eyes landing on Phil briefly before darting back down. “Phil’s. He said he needed a vacation and wanted to get this over with first.”
At that, Marcus straightened. “When did you have this conversation?”
The stridency of his voice made Neil falter. Couldn’t blame him—that was the most urgent I’d ever heard him, and my stomach dropped. Why would he be so concerned about that?
“Umm, I don’t know,” Neil said.
“Was it the first week of the internship?”
Neil paused, considered it, then nodded.
I laid a hand on my man. “Marcus, what’s going on here? Why’re you asking this?”
“Because,” Marcus said, leaning back to look at me, “I ran into Phil the first week, when I came back to get my headphones cord. Had breakfast with him, and made the mistake of joking that we’d need every possible day available to get ready for the presentation.”
Fucking hell. I sucked in a breath. “So Phil found a way to get rid of some of them,” I said.
Harold had managed to sit quietly until then. “Phil, do you have any reason to give me why I shouldn’t take this to the directors immediately and seek your termination for cause?”
Phil’s eyes widened, like the thought had never occurred to him. Like he was genuinely shocked someone would consider such an action. He stared daggers at me and Marcus before turning to Harold. He ignored Neil completely, and I almost felt bad for the guy.
“Harold, I’ve been here for nine years. My work has been exemplary. You’ve never had cause to fire me, and if André’s contract isn’t going to be cancelled because of his relationship with Marcus, surely there’s no cause to terminate me based on mine with Neil.”
And for a second, I thought Harold would agree. Not because it mirrored his feelings, but he’d never openly defended me. Sure, we’d talked about why, but I don’t think he’d ever admitted he knew it was Phil in the video, and I didn’t expect much now.
Harold, though, snorted. “Phil, I’m about sick of this mess. I should’ve had you fired for cause five years ago for sending that video and maliciously interfering with another’s employment, but André left and I decided to let sleeping dogs lie. No more.”
“Wait,” Phil said, cutting him off, his eyes widening. “You knew about that?”
“About what?” Neil’s voice was so soft, a little trembly, and, yeah, it was official. I felt bad for him.
And then I looked down. “Jesus, he bought you a watch too?”
Neil stared at his watch, then up at me. “What do you mean, too?”
Oh boy. I winced, and heard Marcus suck in a breath next to me. “Phil and I dated some years back. When we were at Clarymore together.”
“Hold on,” Harold said, lifting a hand up. “Why would you implement that provision while violating it? Unless you intended to be grandfathered in? Honestly,” he continued, shaking his head, “this is the most poorly conceived plan to boot André out I could have imagined.”
I stifled my laugh, then Harold shook his head and leaned forward, his elbows on the table. Apparently he had more on his mind. “Wait. How are you with Neil? I thought you were dating one of the associates at the firm Shelby interned for. We had to recuse him from the matter.”
If you were watching carefully, you could see the air being sucked out of the room at Harold’s words. And look, Nancy Pennington might think her grandson was stupid for falling for the world’s greatest fuckboy, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel some type of way about Phil clearly using him for his own purposes.
And now I saw the resemblance between Neil and Nancy. The way the younger man’s eyes narrowed, the way he straightened in his seat like he’d been born to money. “That’s why you wanted that firm, isn’t it? You decided to play me so your boyfriend could get the deal, and then what? You’d drop me? But Gran went her own way, so now you’re trying to force them out, so you can get the other firm in.” He turned to me and Marcus. “He’s the one who insisted on that relationship provision. He must have already known about you guys. And no,” he said, “there was no exception. I bet you anything once the new firm was in, he’d drop me and use that clause as an excuse.”
“Imagine that.” I kept my voice steady, mostly for Nancy’s and Harold’s sakes.
Because now I wanted to laugh. I mean, really? Phil always had so many hands in the fire. Was he so scared about the prospect of working with me that he’d spent months engineering ways to put me at a disadvantage? Because, sorry, I didn’t care what anyone said. I didn’t believe for a minute Phil’s machinations were about his lover. No matter what guise he used, Phil was always here for one person only—his damn self.
I should’ve been pissed. Furious. Something. But all I felt was a whole bunch of not a damn thing. Moving the presentation date had forced me and Marcus together in a way nothing else could have. Without it, Marcus wouldn’t have come with me to Tallahassee. He wouldn’t have been at the party or talked shit to my brother or Mrs. Browne. We wouldn’t have had that week together before he left. Chances are good we would’ve gotten our rocks off a few more times and that would have been it.
Wasn’t that about a bitch? I might have to thank my ex-boyfriend for some shit.
Marcus squeezed my knee, like he’d been thinking the same thing. “Harold. You’re telling me André’s so good that, despite Mr. Dennis’s machinations, he still got the gig?”
Harold laughed. “I’ve been trying
to tell him that for years. Only reason he’s here and Phil isn’t is because André wanted out. Phil took André’s leaving as proof he’d gotten away with it.”
Marcus turned in his seat and looked at me. “Gotta give it to you. When you make a bad decision, you really go all in, don’t you?” He rolled his lips in to keep from laughing.
I smiled. “And I was terrified I’d made a worse one with you.”
“Never.” Marcus gripped the back of my neck and pressed our foreheads together, lowering his voice to a whisper and massaging my nape. “This is some real fuck shit, isn’t it?”
My snort wasn’t nearly as quiet as I’d planned. “It sure is.”
“Whatever happens, I love you.”
I would never tire of hearing that. Not ever. “I love you too.”
He released me then and we sat back. Marcus tugged my chair closer and looped his arm around the back of it. “Mrs. Pennington, we do apologize for putting you in an uncomfortable position and not being forthcoming earlier. We will accept whatever decision you make.”
She gave an indelicate snort and rolled her eyes. “Decision’s made. You stay,” she said, pointing at me and André. She looked at her grandson. “Can’t get rid of you either, I guess. But you,” she finished, a bony finger aimed squarely at Phil, “you’re out. And I want a word with that company you were fishing for me to go with.”
Good. I didn’t particularly care what happened with Phil, though I was nosy so I’d definitely find out later. I just wanted to make sure Marcus stayed on.
“Is there anything else you need from us?” I was antsy, eager to get out of here and have more time with Marcus before I drove him back to the airport.
Nancy smiled, like she could sense my need to be anywhere but here. “Not at all. I’ll see you for our regular meeting, and Marcus, we’ll see you in a few weeks.”
We stood and I followed Marcus out, not bothering to look at Phil. Harold grabbed my wrist as I walked past. Take care of him, he mouthed, and I grinned.
