by Eros, Marata
The Token
Volume Five
Copyright © 2014 Marata Eros
Kindle Edition
http://marataeroseroticaauthor.blogspot.com/
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to a legitimate retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Dedication:
Ashley Holm-Hortness
You help me look great... and feel even better <3
“Love sears the heart immortal
The embers burnt down to the token which remains ....”
Music that inspired me:
A Fuoco
Ludovico Einaudi
~ 1 ~
The news comes as such a shock, it never occurs to me that Doctor Ludwig said nothing about my condition.
My terminal one.
Mick is quiet as he leads me out of Ludwig's office, but he holds my hand. He hasn't dumped me yet. The virgin who got pregnant her first time. Unheard of.
I know there's probably been someone else in the history of the universe who got pregnant with her first encounter, but why did it have to be me?
Henry grows larger as we solemnly make our way to the limo. His eyes tighten slightly at our expressions, but he's too classy to comment.
I don't risk a glance at Mick. He might ask the unthinkable.
To end the baby's life. It's early—doable.
It makes so much sense on too many levels.
But I can't.
I'm all for a woman's right to choose, and I'm executing my rights at this very moment.
We slide into the heated interior where champagne chills inside a bucket.
“I can't have that.” I fold my arms and scoot across the limo seat.
Mick smirks, the first actual expression he's shown.
It makes me angrier.
“What?” I huff. I just want him to get it over with. Dump me already.
He leans toward the neck of the bottle and wraps strong fingers around it.
Slowly, he turns it until the label faces me.
Sparkling apple cider.
I blink. I can't rip my gaze from him as the limo pulls away.
He says nothing as he pops the cork. His dexterous fingers clink the long-stemmed champagne glasses as he fills them.
Golden bubbles tease the inside of the crystal as he hands me my glass.
My shaky fingers close around the chilly exterior and slide down to the stem.
Mick catches my tear with the pad of his thumb.
“What kind of man would I be if I didn't celebrate our child?”
The dam of my emotions bursts. Mick takes the glass back before hauling me into his lap. I fit so neatly, almost child-sized in his arms. He folds me against him tightly as though I'm a precious bundle, not just a woman.
“Shush, Faren,” he murmurs, stroking my back. “I'm not going to leave you.”
It's too much.
Too many revelations. Too much truth.
Too much of what I can never have staring me in the face.
I dry my eyes with the back of my hand.
I know what I can do. What I must do.
I have to live long enough to have this baby. I need to do it for Mick and the little he or she who's the size of a kidney bean right now.
His finger lifts my chin until our noses almost brush. “Listen to me.”
I still under his touch.
“I love you.”
I nod. I love him so much. My soul, my guts, my head... they're so in tune with my emotions, I feel as if my heart beats only for him.
Though that's not true. Now it beats for two.
“I knew from the moment I saw you I wanted only you.”
His eyes love every plane of my face. Mick leans back to place his palm on my flat belly.
My shoulders drop, and I relax. “You're not going to dump me?” My eyes search his. “Because I wasn't trying to... trap you.”
“I could have worn protection.” Mick’s brows rise as he assumes part of the guilt.
I shake my head. “Why didn't you? I mean—”
He puts his finger to my lips. “You said you were taking the pill, and I assumed that would be sufficient. And”—his eyes crinkle at the corners as pools of light slant across his face through the car window, a beat without music—“I wanted to feel you.”
My head dips, and I snuggle deeper into the lap nest he's made for me.
Henry turns the limo as the Millennium grows closer, and Mick secures me tighter against him.
“So you always wore a rubber with other women?”
He doesn't hesitate. “Yes.”
I look up. I can't believe I give a crap. “Have there been a lot of women?”
“Yes.” His face is serious, eyes deep.
Shadows slay his expression, then the streetlights illuminate him in profile.
“Oh,” I say in a small voice. Every insecurity I've had crashes on top of my head, crushing me.
Mick's hand finds my jaw, and he lifts my face level with his.
“I have never loved another woman.” Those eyes probe mine. “I'm almost thirty years old, and I've had meaningless sex—a hundred times...”
I gasp, and he inclines his head at the number.
God, my goose is cooked! I feel ridiculous. He must have thought all my first-time throes of passion foolish.
Heat suffuses my face, and I jerk away from his fingers.
His hand slides from my jaw into my hair as Henry parks.
“No you don't,” Mick says in a low voice. His grip tightens to just shy of pain. “Look. At. Me.”
My eyes open, and I feel my gaze seethe at him.
“I've fucked a lot of women.” His other arm snakes around my waist and jerks me closer, his breath hot against my face. “But you... you I made love to.”
Henry raps on the glass, and Mick holds up a finger. A white glove appears against the dark glass, then Henry retreats, one hand crossing over the other as he waits for Mick's bidding.
I don't know what to say.
I've only been with him—I don't have another point of reference. “I haven't been with anyone else...”
“And you won't.”
His eyes narrow. “I'm not about to share the only woman I've ever found who makes my knees weak. An expression I thought was a lie until I experienced it.” His expression turns sheepish around the edges.
I laugh. “I do?” He's got to be feeding me a line of first-class bullshit.
“Why do you think I took you out of the shower without finishing you?”
My blood rushes back to the surface of my skin as I remember how expertly he worked me over in that cocoon of wet heat.
“I didn't know why.”
“Because no matter how hard I hit the gym, it isn't enough to combat the Faren Mitchell affect.”
A dimple on his cheek winks at me and is gone.
I'm very aware that we're keeping Henry, but I've got to know. I meet his stare, the ghost of a smile still touching his lips.
“Is there a difference?”
Mick's lips turn up at
the corners. “Between fucking and making love?”
I glance at my hands.
He says nothing.
I take a deep breath. “Yeah.”
“I didn't think so.” His fingers slacken in my hair, unwinding reluctantly.
“And now?” I ask, though I know I shouldn't. It's torturous to think of Mick with anyone but me.
Like it was torture for him to walk in on Jay and me.
“Now”—he cocks his head—“I know that when I'm fucking you, I'm loving you.” He grips my shoulders. “With you, it's synonymous. I can't take the love out of the sex, Faren.”
His combination of crude words and raw truth undoes me. I fall forward, and Mick holds me.
Henry waits as the car purrs beneath us.
Mick says, “I've moved your things to my condo.”
I pull back. “What?”
“I can't have you staying somewhere that’s so easy to compromise.”
It's too fast. My head's spinning. My stuff? Someone went through all my shit, and now it's in his place....
He's watching my expression. “Hold on.” He grabs the handle as Henry finishes opening the door.
“Sir?”
“We're ready.”
I'm not. But I let Mick lead me down that red carpet and through the glass doors. We traverse the elegant foyer and pass a doorman I don't know.
When we're in the elevator, I open my mouth to let him know how much I despise people managing me.
His tongue is there, stealing my thoughts before I can voice them.
I sigh, my resolve weak while Mick presses me against the hard elevator. His hands are everywhere, and mine wind around his neck.
“No,” I say.
He sucks my bottom lip inside his mouth.
“Quiet.”
I succumb as he whips me around and through the elevator doors as they whisper open.
He walks us to his door and slides the card through the keyed entry as I maul his lips.
“We're not talking right now, Faren.” Mick groans against my neck, kicking the door shut.
“I need you... I need in you.” His lips land on my throat again.
I plow through his hair, fisting it. “To fuck?”
He stops, and my flesh cools without his lips against it.
His gaze meets mine.
My bad hand spasms in his hair.
I watch his heart beat in the hollow of his neck.
“To love,” he answers.
I don't catch the tears that leak out.
Mick carries me to the bedroom. My uncertainty stays at the door.
~ 2 ~
Our clothes decorate every surface like bread crumbs as we move to Mick's bedroom. My bra hangs off the doorknob and his suit litters the ground in a discarded trail.
His face is somber as Mick lays my naked body on his bed. There is lust there, but there is also care. I rest my head against the pillow and look at him.
“You spend too much time crying,” Mick comments. He slides between my legs, swimmingly close to my pussy.
I sigh with anticipation.
I could never have enough of what he gives me. I'm so greedy it feels like an addiction.
His face rests against my thigh, and the little bit of stubble rasps my sensitive skin.
I shiver as his breath steals over my center, and those brown eyes crest over my pubic bone as I gaze at him.
“I know,” I say.
His finger runs up and down my opposite thigh until my breath catches, and he spreads me farther apart.
I groan as his finger enters me softly but without hesitation. It glides deeply inside then out.
He keeps up the gentle, insistent friction until I'm drenching his hand.
I try to move my hips to meet his rhythm, but his mouth is on my slit, digging against me, and I don't want to move.
His tongue finds my clit, and he strokes back and forth against it. I clench around his finger and pant with each brush of his tongue.
“No. More. Tears,” Mick says softly, adding another finger until he forms a little scoop inside my channel.
He teases that sensitive spot up high, and I pause on the ledge.
Then his fingers move deeper and his tongue pins my clit even as he spreads my folds wide. I come hard, my hands fisting the sheets, my head thrown back as ecstasy floods my system. My core grabs at his retreating fingers.
His mouth stays hot and tight against my clit, lifting only to be replaced with his tip.
Mick uses my wetness to slide the length of him against my swollen nub. I move against him, riding the residual wave of my orgasm. A second wave crashes after the first, and Mick fills me with his cock, slamming it into my swollen depths. We're fitted together so deeply, I can't feel where he begins and I end—one flesh, a single consumption of need and lust.
As I think it, Mick holds my face and presses impossibly deeper.
“I'm not crying.”
I gasp as he rocks harder.
So not crying.
Or thinking.
I'm a swollen, aching mass of need and sensation.
“I don't want you talking either.” His low voice rumbles against my chest.
He moves his hands to my arms and pins them over my head, his hips moving, always moving.
I feel myself grow wetter, open more fully to his deep thrusts.
Mick meets the end of me and a low throb pulses from me to him.
“God, Faren.” Mick puts his forehead to mine, his hands heavy against my wrists.
Our flesh slaps together as he rams inside me, and I meet each brutal stab with my legs parted farther. One of my feet dangles off the bed, and he releases my arms to put his hands on either side of me. He swivels his hips with slow, tantalizing precision, and I feel him against every part of me. My insides explode with the sensation of the hard length of him in me.
My eyes snap open.
“Oh God!” My walls clench down around him.
“Hold your feet and spread your legs,” he says through his teeth.
I grab my arches, and my knees go beside my ears.
Mick slams inside me, filling me with his release. He's frozen above me, moving slightly to shift deeper, thrust more fully, and I grab his ass.
Our mutual pleasure is a symphony of groans as we grapple to connect more tightly.
I laugh as he begins to slip out.
“You can't get any deeper.” I feel my goofy grin down to my toenails.
He kisses my nose and slides out all the way, tucking me half underneath him as he falls to his side.
“Can't blame me for trying.”
I shake my head, my hair gliding across my naked breasts, and he takes a nipple inside his mouth in a wet, languid pull. I thread my fingers through his hair, and he looks up at me, releasing my nipple with a pop.
Mick's hand moves to my flat stomach, caressing it over and over.
My hand covers his. “Are you sure you—”
His gaze locks with mine. “Yes.”
My eyes slide away from the heat there. I might not be able to answer some of the questions I see.
“We should talk.”
“Go ahead,” Mick says. “I'm listening. But just so you know, I'm not having the mother of my child out of my sight.”
I can't hide my smile at how overprotective he is. Even with Ronnie dead, he doesn't want to take any chances. Thank God he hasn't said anything about marriage. It's the island in the discussion, and we're the boats in the water. We've seen it, but neither one of us is going ashore.
My grin fades at how serious his expression is.
Mick's hand cups my face. “I didn't survive Rose's death and the debacle of Thorn's incarceration to lose you to preventable circumstances.”
His lips close over mine.
“I won't.”
He moves them over me softly.
“Ever.”
My hand goes to the back of his neck.
“Okay.”
A thrumming causes us both to turn our heads. His cell jitters on the dresser.
Mick frowns, bouncing off the bed and scooping up his cell.
“McKenna,” he all but barks.
I slowly spread my legs as he listens to whoever's receiving his irritation.
One of my legs moves to one side of the bed then the other. I let my feet slide to the edges of the bed.
His eyes darken as he tracks my movements.
I wet my fingertip and place it on my still-engorged clit and slide it back and forth.
“Yeah,” he answers in a curt syllable. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows.
I use the fingers of my bad hand to spread myself so only my finger covers the little pink bundle of nerves.
I slide the hood back, my glistening secrets bare to him, and I watch him grow hard from ten feet away.
“I've got to go,” he says.
Suddenly he turns away from me, plowing his fingers through his short hair. “Yes, I said I will.”
My hands fall away from my naked glory, and Mick carefully puts down the phone.
He turns, and his half-erection gives a small lift at the sight of me.
“Fuck,” Mick says without preamble.
I sit up, my playful mood expired. “What?”
He moves to the bed and grips my hair.
“I have to leave town for a few days.”
The tip of him is so close I could flick it with my tongue.
So I do.
His hold tightens, and I go all the way down to his base, choking myself.
Mick throws his head back in a moan that crawls out of his soul and it makes me grow wet again to hear something so primal.
He slowly fucks my mouth, and my hands cup his ass. I sit cross-legged, his hands buried in my hair, as he stabs half his length down my throat. I move his hips deeper as I grip his cheeks.
“Faren,” Mick says, “you're going to make me cum.”
I want it.
I don't want him to go, to leave me.
I cup his balls with one hand and deep throat him, fighting my urge to gag.
He stiffens under my hand, and his cock grows slightly harder. His release bursts between us, and I take it all.
