The One For Me (Danver #8)

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The One For Me (Danver #8) Page 11

by Sydney Landon


  Dropping her wrists, he walked to the bedside table, pulled out a strip of condoms, and tossed them on the bed. He returned to her and settled his hands on her hips. “I can’t hold off long, Angel. I’ll make sure you’re there with me first, though, even if it kills me, baby. Okay?” She nodded her agreement and used one hand to open the front clasp of her bra. Her breasts tumbled free as she stepped back from his hold and positioned herself half-sitting, half-lying on his bed. How could anyone have ever let this woman go? he wondered as he climbed into bed beside her. He made quick work of removing her panties before sliding his hands up her inner thighs until he reached her core. His fingers found her slick folds, and he whispered in wonder, “You’re ready for me, aren’t you, baby? You’re so hot and wet.” His thumb slid easily around her clit while he eased his index finger inside of her.

  “Hurry, Mark—hurry,” she cried out as her body quivered with need. He could tell she was already close to coming, just from the small amount of stimulation that he’d given her. He wanted to taste her—to see her come apart again and again—but right now, they both needed a release. Instead, he pulled back, rolled on a condom, and positioned his hands under her knees. Pulling her closer to him, he lined up his cock and thrust inside. When she screamed loud enough to wake his neighbors, he immediately stilled, gritting his teeth. “Why are you stopping?” she snapped. Her hips pushed back impatiently, taking him deeper. “Go—please,” she pleaded.

  With no handcuffs or sex toys in sight, Mark had the wildest sexual experience of his life. He couldn’t even fathom the fact that she claimed to have never orgasmed during sex because she’d come within seconds of his plunging into her wet heat.

  Her nails had scored his arms as she’d attempted to top from the bottom. He’d had a lot of vocal women, but most sounded as if they exaggerated it just for entertainment value. His Angel, though, seemed to genuinely love his cock, and she let her appreciation be known. It reminded him of the saying a lady in the living room and a whore in the bedroom. He didn’t want to offend her by commenting on it, because he freaking loved it. He’d given it to her hard, and she’d begged for more. She was a greedy little thing in bed, as the fact that he was now lying next to her panting would attest to.

  He leaned down to kiss her mouth, and then the tip of her nose. Her eyes, which had been closed, fluttered open. He saw surprise, along with satisfaction there. “That was amazeballs,” she murmured, before kicking her arms and legs in a way that made Mark think she was having some kind of attack. As he gawked down at her, she suddenly grabbed her breasts and squeezed them. “Oh, my God, I want to do that again and again!” Then it was as if she deflated in front of him. Her lower lip quivered as she said, “But we won’t, will we? I mean everyone says that you don’t repeat—things. So now that we’ve . . . done it, we’re finished.”

  Mark felt his chest clench at her words. He had no idea how everyone at Danvers knew his sexual tendencies since he’d always tried to keep that rather private, but she wasn’t wrong, and that stung. This should be it for them. This was the point where he’d take home the woman he’d slept with and say a few meaningless words. However, he would never promise to call again, because he wouldn’t. The thought of Crystal leaving now sent something close to panic racing through him. Hell, he wanted her to stay the night with him. He didn’t want to analyze why he was feeling what he was, because then he’d do something stupid like distancing himself and hurting her. And that he couldn’t live with. Not with her.

  “Baby, the only thing I’m going to do is go toss this condom and grab us something to drink. After that, I’m going to taste that beautiful body of yours, and then you’re going to ride me. Sound like a plan?”

  Her eyes searched his before she gave him a huge grin. “Yeah, I can go along with that.” Mark left the bed and disposed of the condom before grabbing two bottles of water from the kitchen. His voice of reason was screaming that he was in over his head, but for once, something beyond physical desire was ruling his decisions.

  • • •

  Crystal tried to keep a straight face as Mark walked back in the room and handed her a bottle of water. This is really happening! I had sex with Mark DeSanto, and we’re going to do it again! While he was gone, she’d slid under the comforter and propped her back on a few of his pillows. She was so sated and boneless that she’d barely been able to make herself move, but it had seemed kind of . . . slutty to remain sprawled across his bed naked. When you weren’t having sex, you were supposed to cover your lady bits up. At least that was the way Bill saw it. The first time they’d had sex and she’d thought she was supposed to sleep in the nude afterward, he’d quickly let her know differently. He’d made her feel as if it was a dirty deed that should never be spoken of.

  So, she was dumbfounded when Mark walked into the bathroom and came back with a washcloth. He pulled the comforter away from her and nudged her legs apart. He was so gentle that it brought tears to her eyes. She would have never imagined a man doing something so intimate, and while a part of her was embarrassed, another part was entranced. Maybe she was being silly and he did this for all of his women—but she didn’t think so. Somehow, she felt she was unique to him. Possibly, it was the novelty of being with a woman who he considered innocent. Whatever it was, she found that she liked being taken care of.

  And heaven help her . . . the sex. She hadn’t been able to get enough of him. He’d ignited nerve endings that she hadn’t known existed. Heck, even his touching her belly button sent spasms of pleasure through her sex. He had been everywhere. When she’d been close to going over the edge, he’d switch directions and come at her in another way. His cock was so big that she ached—but in a good way. He’d licked her nipples, and then bit down on them while he pounded away. Dear God, she’d even found herself rubbing her clit while he went deep. She’d never touched her body in front of a man before, but Mark made her lose all of her inhibitions. She was a total sexual being with him, and she’d held nothing back.

  When he collapsed next to her and pulled her to his chest, she put one arm around his waist and snuggled closer. The room was quiet as he ran his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp. Mark, it appeared, was very comfortable in his skin. He was still nude, and a quick glance down showed that he was hard. Unable to resist, she dropped a hand to fist around his cock, marveling at how smooth and satiny the skin there felt. Her thumb moved across the lush head, rubbing the moisture that had gathered there. He drew in a ragged breath before growling, “That’s it, Angel. Tighten your grip and pump me harder.”

  She clasped him as firmly as she could since her fingers wouldn’t meet and jacked his length. He groaned, making her feel as if she was doing something right. She wanted nothing more than to taste him, so with that in mind, she pulled away from his arms until she was kneeling over his dick. His essence exploded against her tongue as she twirled it around his head. She pumped the base with her hand while taking as much of his length as she could into her mouth. He raised his hips, sliding his cock between her lips and hitting the back of her throat. She choked momentarily as her gag reflex was triggered, causing him to moan as he felt the vibration. “Mmm,” she whimpered, so turned on by the pleasure she was giving him. She really had no idea what she was doing, but he guided her by placing a hand on her head. When he abruptly pulled out, she looked at him in confusion. “What?”

  “My turn, Angel,” he rasped as with a few movements of his hands, she was flat on her back and her legs were over his shoulders. She was sputtering out a protest when he licked her slit and sucked her clit into his mouth. After that, she was unable to form any more coherent thoughts as he devoured her through another couple of orgasms before rolling on a condom and pulling her on top of him, impaling her down onto his hard cock. Once again, she screamed and moved against him in ways that would do a porn star proud. If Mark DeSanto was a bad boy, then she’d never want a good guy again. He’d ruined her for all other men.

  Now that sh
e knew what was possible between a man and woman, she never wanted it to end. The problem was that everyone knew Mark didn’t do serious relationships. She surprised herself with what she was capable of in his bed. Was she strong enough to smile and wish him well when he walked away? Because he would, right? He always did.

  Chapter Eleven

  Monday morning seemed to arrive in the blink of an eye. Both she and Mark had fallen asleep after their last round of acrobatic sex, and she’d been surprised to open her eyes and see the morning light streaming through his bedroom windows. He’d insisted they save time and water by bathing together, where she’d experienced another first—against-the-wall shower sex.

  When she walked into the kitchen in search of Mark after getting dressed, she found him there, sipping a cup of coffee with Denny. She’d wanted to back down the hallway and hide from the knowing smile on the other man’s face, but Mark had spotted her. “Coffee, Angel?” he asked, already pouring her a cup.

  “Thanks,” she replied softly as she used the cream and sugar sitting nearby. In the light of day, she felt awkward and unsure of how to act around Mark after the previous night. When he pulled her against his chest and dropped a kiss on her temple, it shocked her. From the look on Denny’s face, he felt the same way. It was obvious he wasn’t used to seeing this side of his boss. As she was enjoying the closeness between them, a phone chimed. Both Denny and Mark checked theirs before looking at her. She shrugged and pulled her iPhone from her purse to find a text from her mother.

  Mandatory family dinner. Seven tonight, don’t be late.

  “Well, shit,” she grumbled.

  Mark raised a brow in amusement, asking, “What’s wrong, baby?” She turned her phone to let him read the message and saw his expression darken.

  “Tell her where she can put that order,” he advised.

  Sighing, she shook her head. “It’s easier to just go and get it over with. Otherwise, I’d have to hear about what a lousy daughter I am for weeks.”

  Mark put his hand under her chin, lifting it to study her. “Don’t let her do that to you. You’re playing right into her hands.”

  Forgetting all about Denny, she snuggled closer, saying glumly, “I know, but it’s a hard habit to break. She’s my mother, after all. I’ll just head straight there from work and get it over with. Then I’ll go home and stare at the walls for eight hours or so until I’ve recovered.”

  “Come here afterward,” Mark said against her ear. “I’ll give you something to take your mind off things for the night.”

  She grinned against his chest, feeling suddenly giddy, while Denny made a gagging sound. “I hate to break up this lovefest that you two have going on, but if we don’t hit the road, we’ll be late for your first meeting, cousin.”

  Mark glanced down at his watch and grimaced. “You ready, Angel?” he asked as he gently released her from his hold.

  Trying to sound far more enthusiastic than she felt, she said a bright “Yep, let’s get this Monday started.” She refrained from adding that her mother had ruined any chance of this being a good day. Mark, sensing her somber mood, simply tucked her into his side on the ride across town—letting her know that he was there, but also giving her time with her thoughts before he dropped her at home.

  He stepped out with her when they reached her apartment and insisted on walking her to the door. “I’ve got several meetings today, so I’ll probably be tied up until this evening. Call me when you’re leaving your parents’ house and we’ll go from there.”

  Despite being depressed over her evening plans, she felt the urge to do some kind of crazy victory dance at his casual mention of an evening together. She was going to see Mark again, and it wasn’t even a weekend night. God, she felt like such a rebel. A new and improved model of herself, thanks to DeStudo. A giggle escaped her throat before she could hold it back. He gave her an inquiring look, to which she just shrugged her shoulders. “Trust me, it’s a woman thing. You don’t want to know.”

  Pulling her into his arms, he kissed the side of her neck and purred, “Oh, but I do, since I know it involves me. We’re both going to be late though, so I’ll let it go—for now.” Dropping a kiss on her lips, he added, “Have a good day, Angel. Drive safely.” As he was turning away, he suddenly swung back around. “Why don’t I have Denny circle back after he drops me at the office? He can pick you up so that you can relax on the drive this morning.”

  Going to him, she curled her arms around his stomach and gave him a squeeze. “I’m leaving from work for my parents’. I’ll be fine. It’s sweet that you care, though.”

  “Sweet?” he repeated as if the word felt foreign on his tongue. Considering his reputation with women, it probably wasn’t one used to describe him often. He kissed the top of her head and pulled away. “Talk to you tonight,” he murmured before walking toward his car. Maybe she should have left that last part off. It might not have been smart to bring that to his attention. She didn’t want to scare him off, but she loved that he was concerned enough about her well-being to want to send Denny for her. Whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not, Mark DeSanto was a good guy. She only hoped he could accept that before he pushed her away.

  • • •

  Mark had spent the ride to work from Crystal’s apartment dealing with issues at the Boston branch of his company. As with any type of business, the most challenging problem was finding strong people that you didn’t have to constantly micromanage. Normally, he’d get on his private plane and be there in a few hours to deal with the issue in person. But the thought of traveling right now didn’t appeal to him. That was strange considering he’d lived out of a suitcase for years. He’d always kept a base in Charleston, but hell, everyone needed an official place that they called home—even if they were rarely there.

  Switching home base from Charleston to Myrtle Beach had seemed logical considering his continued partnership with Jason Danvers. He’d been quietly putting down roots here, which was a testament to how weary he had become of the nonstop business travel. He’d never liked staying in one place for long, thus the reason he’d finally purchased his own plane. Flying commercial sucked when you were doing it so often.

  Now here he was with a house and an actual office where he spent weeks at a stretch. Jacob had been encouraging him for ages to turn over more of the travel to him, but Mark had been resistant. He liked maintaining control in all areas of his life, and to him, if you wanted something done right, then you did it yourself. Seemed easier than taking the time to train someone else. He’d been reconsidering his stance though in the last year. He was burned-out—so fucking tired of it all. Usually, when that kind of feeling threatened to engulf him, he’d find a woman and channel his frustrations into a more pleasurable outlet.

  He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Angel that he had handcuffs. Hell, he had a drawer full of the sorts of toys that had been in that surprising little booklet of hers. He liked to use props during sex. To him, it depersonalized the act and made it into something less intimate. It was physical release in the basest of terms.

  Mark hadn’t wanted any of that last night with his Angel. He was a man; of course, he’d get off on tying her down and having her at his mercy, but for once, that hadn’t been his first thought. No, instead he’d wanted to hold her and see the expression in her eyes as they came together for the first time. His touch had set her aflame, and she’d made no attempt to hide it from him. There was no artifice in her. She gave her body to him as if she trusted implicitly that he would take care of her.

  Even as anxiety and uncertainty had clawed at him while she’d lain sleeping in his arms, he’d only pulled her closer and fought off his misgivings. His self-preservation instincts had been screaming to push her away. To send her home and put some distance between them. But for once, the part of him that was tired of being alone was stronger. So he’d allowed himself to curl his body around hers and let the rest of the world fall away.

  He’d woken to her s
leeping soundly against his chest, and it had felt good. It had felt right in a way he hadn’t experienced before. He’d had her in the shower, again pushing away the voice in his head that was bellowing in alarm. Then he’d invited—no, demanded—that she come to him after she’d had dinner with her bitch of a mother so that he could soothe the hurt that she would no doubt be feeling.

  What was he doing? Where was this going with her? In the end, she’d be hurt and he’d be the bastard who did it. Fuck, he should walk away now before either of them got in over their head any further. Too late—you’re barely treading water now.

  Even as those thoughts swirled in his head, he picked up his phone again and called Jacob. “I need you to fly to Boston today and take care of some problems there. Denny will make arrangements to have the jet fueled and the pilot waiting for you by noon.”

  “No problem, boss,” Jacob said easily. Mark detected the note of satisfaction in the other man’s voice and knew that he was pleased that Mark was finally utilizing him in the full capacity in which he was hired. “I’ll be in touch when I land.” The call ended as abruptly as it began. Like him, Jacob was a man of few words. He didn’t need hand-holding, and for the first time, Mark was grateful for someone to share the load of responsibilities.

  What disturbed him most about delegating was that he wasn’t sure who he was if not a workaholic. Women worked around his schedule—always had, and they never complained. His life revolved around two things—working and fucking. One had never interfered with the other, so why was he trying to fix what wasn’t broken? Why was he in the midst of making more time for a life he didn’t even have? Because you’re going to end up either alone or like your parents.

  “Is she messing with your head?” Mark jumped at the sound of Denny’s voice, having been completely lost in thought.

 

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