“Oh.” She stared at him some more, taken aback, and desperately turned on at his honesty. “OK.”
“To my bed,” he said. “Now.”
She turned, but he was faster than she was. Without a word, he scooped her up in to his arms, and she grabbed his shoulders.
“Mark!” His name was a startled cry. “What –”
“Taking you to the bedroom,” he said. “You might get lost.”
“Ah.” She settled against him, feeling impossibly petite. With her ass and thighs and hips, she never felt that way, but damned if this man didn’t make her go all feminine and delicate. “So you’re helping me?”
“I’m helping both of us.” He was moving as fast as he could. “If I have to wait one more minute to see you naked and with your mouth on me, I’m gonna explode.”
She was just thinking about kissing him, but then suddenly, she was being tossed on a bed caveman-style, for the first time in her entire life. It was way sexier than she’d thought it could, or would, or should be. She hit the mattress, rolled, looked over her shoulder at him through a waterfall of blonde hair.
Mark was tearing his clothes off at warp-speed, and Francine spun on the bed to watch, practically unblinking. No way she was missing even one second of this. As soon as he was naked, she just got to staring – unashamed, unabashed, unapologetic staring – her eyes eating him alive.
She’d barely had time to enjoy the spectacular view, though, when he grabbed her by the ankle, and gently pulled. He was so strong, it took no effort at all for him to haul her across the bed. Francine exhaled in shock and desire, but he was still moving. His hands were all over her clothes, peeling and pulling, then all over her skin, teasing and touching.
She glanced down, saw that somehow she was just in her panties, and even just that was clearly far, far too much material for Mark. He lowered himself to the mattress, stretched out next to and over her, pushing her down as he came. She was flat on her back, almost totally exposed to his intense green stare. His hands moved to her waist, gripped the elastic band.
Shyness presented itself now, much to her surprise. She looked down and away, her arms covering her full breasts before she could stop herself. Mark paused, his rough hands clutching silk and lace.
“Babe? You not sure?”
“I–” She looked back at him, saw his eyes so bright in his hard face. He wanted her, he wanted her badly, but he was stopping himself. He was making sure, letting her know that she was safe with him, and that thought made up her mind. She uncrossed her arms, stared right back at him. “I’m sure.”
“Yeah?” He slid one hand slowly up her body, between her breasts, to her lips. He ran his thumb over her lower lip, pressed a bit, released. “You sure sure?”
“Totally sure sure.”
Mark replaced his finger with his mouth, and she kissed him back, relaxing completely now. Her arms curled around his neck, held him tighter. From his side, he became more tender, more careful. He needed her to be on board with this, with all of this, and that meant that he was backing down. Just for a few minutes.
He felt her whole body against his, felt every glorious, gorgeous inch of her, and he almost groaned at just how damn good she felt. She was right where she was meant to be, all pressed up on him, and he was right where he was meant to be, all wrapped around her. This was right. They were right.
At the thought, he grinned against her mouth. She felt it, lifted her head to meet his eyes.
“What are you smiling about?” She sounded breathless.
“You.” His own voice was deeper than usual, harsher. “You’re so fucking beautiful, babe, and I’m dying for you to pick up where you left things in the kitchen.”
Her eyes flared. “Oh, yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Hmmmm.” Somehow, her throaty, dusky murmur was still sweet. Dark sweet. Naughty sweet. “Yeah, I can get back to that.”
Without another word, Mark kissed her again, rolling her with him as he did, turning on to his back. She stared down at his strength, his muscle, his bulk, loving how hot and hard he was under her palms. Nothing but hot, hard man.
She kissed his mouth one last time, quick and brief, then starting exploring. He lay still, just let her take her time getting to know his body.
Francine ran her tongue over his collarbone, then down to his chest. She liked his chest, no doubt about that, liked the dark hair on it. She’d never seen the attraction to totally clean-shaven men, didn’t find a lack of hair remotely sexy, and Mark’s smattering of hair was just right, in her opinion. She kissed every curve of every muscle; traced the dark letters of his tattoo with her fingertips; moved farther down. Farther.
Her hand skimmed over the taut muscles of his stomach, slid down. He was watching her hand avidly, a look of fierce concentration on his incredible face. And when her lips followed the same path, blazing fire across his skin, he groaned her name, deep and low.
Desperate to taste him now, needing to taste him, she slipped between his huge thighs. He clenched his jaw, fighting to stay still, seconds away from just begging her to touch him.
Francine took his length in her hand, and moved up and down, slowly, then faster. His fingers dug in to the mattress, and his entire body tensed. She smiled, loving his reaction, knowing that she was just getting started.
She lowered her mouth to his hardness, gave him a teasing, soft little kiss. He jerked, tensed up more. Her tongue snaked out, licked the tip, swirled around it, lapped at it. He pushed his head back in to the pillow, shut his eyes, prayed hard for control. Because this? Was going to be mind-blowing.
Taking pity on him – and thank every star in the sky for that – she sucked him in to the snug warmth of her sweet, sexy mouth. She worked him slowly, moving up and down, taking him more deeply with every stroke. And when he touched the back of her throat and she swallowed, his eyes flew open in shock.
“Francine…”
She lifted her eyes to his, loving the dark, intense glitter she saw there. Holding his stare, she kept moving up and down, watching him lose his goddamn mind under her full lips.
Mark was mesmerized: yeah, he’d imagined this moment, imagined it a lot. But now that it was here, and he was in it, he knew that he had a fucking lousy imagination. Or maybe it was just that anything with Francine was always going to defy expectations. Reality with her was always going to trump fantasy… she was everything, and she was so, so damn real.
He watched her suck him, ran his hungry gaze up and down the luscious curves of her breasts and hips and ass, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for her now. His hands went to her head, fisted gently in her hair. She liked that, he was happy to see: she moaned, and her eyes fluttered shut. As soon as her bright gaze disappeared, he felt its loss.
“Eyes up here, sugar,” he grated out. “Give me your gorgeous baby blues.”
She did as he ordered, and he jolted at the heat that he saw in those depths. Seeing how much she loved doing this to him kicked his arousal up another fifty notches, and now it roared through him like an out-of-control fire. He arched his back, still holding her eyes, still holding her hair. He was close… so goddamn close.
“Francine,” he said softly. “I’m gonna come… gonna come hard. You sure you want to take all of me?”
Her response was a wicked smile, and a saucy little wink. Still holding his stare, she took him deeper, swallowed again. Again. Again. And her throat muscles massaged his cock so perfectly, that he knew he was lost. Lost, and yet somehow totally found.
“Oh, fuck,” he whispered, unraveling at the speed of light. “Oh, God, babe…”
Unable to stop it now, he thrust up in to her mouth, holding her right where he needed her. She stayed with him, thank Christ, just sucked him harder and stronger, her throat open and waiting. When he shuddered and called her name, dancing on the knife-edge
of orgasm, she swallowed, hard. And Mark damn near blacked out from the force of coming in her amazing little mouth.
She took all of him, loving every second of it. She watched his face as he came for her, memorizing every expression. His release made him look almost savage, and so damn gorgeous, it made her dizzy. He held her eyes the whole time, and the connection between them was like an electric current. It crackled and sparked, and Francine had never seen a man more focused on her face, on her eyes, on her lips. Not ever.
Then his eyes shut in relief at his release, and she eased back. She kept her lips around his length as she moved slowly up and off, making sure to give the swollen tip a final little kiss. He shuddered again, tangled his hands in her hair, whispered her name once more. The man was sated and satisfied, and that soft murmur was all the proof of that that she needed.
Slowly, she moved back up his amazing body, kissing his stomach, his hips, his pecs. She nuzzled his throat, loving the musky, animal scent there. She finally reached his face, kissed his closed eyelids.
Mark opened his eyes, stared at her with the force of a laser beam. With no warning whatsoever, he sat up and flipped her under him. She gave a laugh of surprise, tumbled backwards. He pinned her to the bed, glanced down the length of her body at her lush curves. He eyed the scrap of black silk and lace, skimmed her curved stomach with a huge hand.
“You’re wearing too many clothes, sugar,” he growled. And yeah, he actually growled.
“You think?”
“Mmm-hmmm. I think.” He sat up again, moved away so abruptly that she felt the loss of his warmth keenly. “But lie still for a minute.”
“OK,” she said, startled. “You going somewhere?”
“Yeah. Be right back.”
Francine watched him climb out of bed, and bit her lip. The view was… staggering. Like, full-on, good-Christ-Almighty staggering. Nothing but power and grace, all wrapped up in a muscular, tight frame. And when he came back to her, she openly ogled his incredible cock.
She’d just tasted it, just released it, but she missed it. She wanted more of Mark, all of Mark – she wanted him inside her. She wanted to take him as deep as she could, to just ride him until her whole body dissolved around his length. Her breath caught, and her pussy slicked up, helplessly.
He got back in to bed, handed her a half-glass of wine. “Drink that.”
She gave him a smile. “Thanks.”
Her voice was a bit hoarse, and his eyes flared with worry.
“You doing OK?” he asked, moving his hand to her throat.
She sipped, nodded. “I’m good.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, and dark, languid desire rolled under the words. “You sure as hell are.”
She giggled now, drank a bit more. “You were satisfied with my efforts, and with the job that I did?”
“Christ, babe. If I’d been any more satisfied, I’d be dead.”
She laughed again, set the almost-empty wine glass on the bedside table.
“You want some more?” he said, still stroking her throat gently.
“No, thanks.”
“So what do you want?”
“Hmmmm.” She blinked up at him, all mock-innocent. “Well. I am a bit tired.”
“You don’t say.”
“Yeah.”
“You want to lie down?”
“Oh, sure,” she said. “That sounds like an awesome idea.”
“Go on then,” he commanded. “Lie back, arms up over your head.”
She tilted her head at him. “Anything else?”
“Yeah. Legs open.”
“Oh…” The small sound was a gasp of shock, of lust. “Oh, God.”
“Now, babe.” Those green eyes were hot and intense again. “Don’t make me wait one minute longer to run my tongue over your sweetness.”
As a woman who understood the power of words, and who spent her days talking, Francine was stunned to discover that she was, truly, speechless. Silent and mute, she lay back, trembling a bit. She raised her arms, rested them on either side of her head. Then, trembling harder now, just shaking with pure desire, she slowly parted her legs.
His amazing eyes flared again, with want this time. Without a word, Mark tugged her panties down and off, tossed them on the bedroom floor. He knelt between her curvy thighs, ran his fingers up her legs, behind her knees, stopped just below her aching, pulsing sex. He framed it with his hands, not touching it. Not yet.
“Francine.” Mark shook his head, exhaled hard. “I need to taste you, babe.”
“Ah,” she murmured, gyrating her hips restlessly, trying to get him to touch her heat. “Mark…”
“Yeah?”
“Please…”
“Please what?” It was exquisite torture for both of them as he slowly lowered his head to her. He inhaled her, almost drunk from the sweet-spicy scent of honey and need. “Please taste you?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”
His tongue darted out, flicked her clit, so fast and light. It wasn’t a deep, hard touch, but Francine felt it through her entire body. She arched up, and gave a small cry.
“Mark…” She was pleading now, and she didn’t give a damn. “Mark…”
“Hang on, sugar,” he muttered, moving closer, his broad shoulders opening her wider to his gaze and touch. “God help me, but I can’t stop myself, not for one second longer.”
“Don’t stop,” she said, barely recognizing her own voice. “Mark… don’t you dare stop.”
“No way,” he rasped. “Not until you come for me.”
Done waiting, done talking, Mark covered her completely with his hot, open mouth. Francine froze, utterly overwhelmed by the pleasure of just this touch. She was so, so close… and he hadn’t even used his tongue yet.
“Oh, mon Dieu,” she groaned. “I need you to do it…”
“You do, huh?” His words blew puffs of air against her soaked pussy, and she arched again, higher this time. “So how do you want your first orgasm, babe?”
“Huh?” Dazed, breathless, she raised her head, met those amazing eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Fast and hard, or slow and deep?” Carefully, his finger moved up her lower lips now, spreading her slick arousal. “Tell me.”
“I – I –” she faltered, her brain not working. “Fast. Mark, please… I can’t wait. I want it fast.”
“Your wish is my command,” he murmured. “Fast it is.”
With that, he sucked her clit in to his mouth, and the feeling was so intense that she came right up off the bed. He chuckled, loving her response, pressed one huge hand on her lower belly.
“Easy, sugar,” he rumbled. “Let me take you there.”
“Ah!” she cried as he stroked her with his tongue, rolled her taut little button between his lips, feasted on her. “Mark!”
His eyes lit up at the way she called his name, needing to hear it said like that again and again, higher and tighter as she approached climax. He growled in his chest, slid his hands under her full ass, lifted her to his face. Took her with his mouth, took her hard and fast, took her without mercy.
Francine’s hands found his dark hair, and grasped it roughly. He loved her passion and abandon, loved how she was just throwing herself in to the sensations making her curvy body shake under him.
Greedy for more, so fucking hungry for her, he slid his tongue up her hot, sweet pussy. He zeroed in on her clit, knowing that all he had to do was give her just enough pressure, and she’d be flying over that edge, screaming the whole way.
First, though, he couldn’t resist slipping one, then two, thick fingers inside her drenched channel. On some primal level, Mark needed to touch her deep. Needed to reach for the very heart of her soaked, sweet centre.
As he pushed farther, Francine gave a sharp scream, one more of shock than
of pleasure. Right away, he stopped dead, terrified that he’d hurt her.
“Babe? You OK?”
“I – I… yes!” She was almost incoherent, her head thrashing from side to side. “That was just so… so…” She cried out again as he touched that magical, melting spot deep inside. “Oh, my… what was that?”
“Ah.” He grinned and relaxed. He twisted his wrist, just a bit, watched her face as he stroked deep inside her again. Fuck, her reaction was something else: if he hadn’t been holding her down, she’d have hit the ceiling. “Never had a man find it with his fingers before, I guess?”
“Find what?” she moaned, barely aware of what she was saying.”What are you doing to me?”
“I think we’ll save that for later,” he said, his voice husky with want as he gently withdrew his hand. “I want to use my cock on that spot.”
“Oh,” she gasped, seconds away from exploding. “Mark… please!”
“Now, sugar?” he said, teasing her with his thumb on her little bundle of nerves. “You want to come now?”
“Yes!” She was almost sobbing, not at all caring that she was a heaving mess of trembling need. “Yes. I need to come…”
Mark needed it, too, needed it so damn much, it took his breath away. He lowered his head again, his lips and tongue and fingers all busy on her clit. He sucked, licked, stroked, over and over, harder and faster. Her whole body tensed up, all lush curves and glistening arousal, and he knew she was right there, inches from the edge, seconds from mindless bliss.
He pushed her. Hard. Fast.
Francine’s body seized up as the pleasure peaked, crested, built to fever-pitch. Then it all exploded, only getting more intense as she started to come. The orgasm wasn’t really one orgasm – it was a whole series of them, small, crashing bursts that only made the next one stronger.
And when the orgasm hit her – the toe-curling one, the one that made her vision flash bright white, then go black – she knew nothing but this man, this moment. Her whole universe shrank and contracted, became nothing but the pulsing place between her legs, and his wicked, skilled tongue, and her calling his name.
Solid Heart (Unseen Enemy Book 7) Page 10
