“Oh God. That was a lot of questions. Are we going for honesty? And here I thought perhaps you were looking for a roll in the hay to break your dry spell.”
“Nice one. Your poor attempts at humor to save face won’t work with me. I’m onto you.”
He sighs and runs a hand up my arm, sending little bursts of sexual awareness through me with each stroke. “You caught that, huh?” He pauses a moment and I let the silence stretch between us, content to wait. “You’re growing on me, okay? I thought I wanted a career woman, someone serious in her job and driven to succeed—like me. A woman who dresses sophisticated and is put together in every area of her life. But what do those traits really matter in the end? Would we have chemistry? Would she be adventurous in the bedroom? Would she intrigue me and hold my interest past a week?”
I smile inwardly, thinking of all the crazy sex acts I’ve tried in my life, desperate for something to matter. And yet none of it healed me and brought me happiness.
“Who knows? She might be all those things—and more. You never know what life has in store for you.”
What the hell? Are you trying to talk him out of seducing you? Shut up already!
Marcus grabs my hips and hauls me to his lap. “Who says I want to wait for her any longer? Why not enjoy what life has brought to me now?”
And with that he pulls my face to his, kissing me with a pent up passion I hadn’t known was there. My hands find his bare chest, exploring the lean planes and tight muscles like I’ve been dying to do since the robe came off. One firm hand holds the back of my head lightly, tilting my face for a deeper kiss.
A low moan sounds deep in my throat, stirring up feelings and desires I haven’t felt in years. His tongue pushes into my mouth and I open wide, gladly inviting him to plunder and take what he wants. My breath hitches and my hips grind down on his lap of their own volition.
The pressure from his hard length strokes and rubs at my very center, despite the layers of pants and underwear between us.
He inches up the hem of my baggie top and the warm air caresses my skin, reminding me of how hot it’s become in the small room. Without pausing to analyze my actions, I reach down and draw the shirt over my head, effectively breaking our kiss.
I toss the thin material aside and look into Marcus’s face. An expression of awe and wonder awaits. His hands reverently skim my waist, circling the front and back at once.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen an eight pack of abs on a woman before.” His hands move upward, drawing a path of heat in his wake. “So smooth and tight.” He leans closer and plants a kiss on my collar bone. “Delicate and yet incredibly strong. You’re amazing.”
His words open something inside me. I know I’m in good shape. I’ve been approached at the yoga studio to be a fitness model, but never took the offer seriously. It also prompted me to start wearing baggie shirts and forego the tanks and midriff shirts I used to wear. I was there to workout, not draw attention to myself.
But when he notices me I feel cherished. Like he’s unwrapped a special gift and I’m it. “Thank you.” My shyness comes through once again in my lowered voice.
His head pops up and he stares into my eyes. “Don’t go hiding back into that shell of yours. I see you. The real you. The one who became strong enough to find peace from her inner demons. The woman who released her anger with hard work and determination.”
Marcus’s hands drift to my back, where he traces lightly down my spine and then outward over my tight skin. “You… you…”
“Yes?” I ask, a lump in my throat.
“You humble me.” He kisses me again, softly this time, with not as much passion as before. “I’ve allowed myself to be the shallow jerk who fires out smart retorts, so I didn’t have to face how empty my dating life had become. But you… you dealt with your past and what happened to your sister, no matter how hard it was for you to overcome… no matter what you lost of yourself in the process.”
“Lost of myself?”
He nods. “I think all the anger stifled the real you. And the meditation helped to release it all, but it didn’t uncover what you had buried for so long—your passion.”
“You’re pretty deep for a shallow guy who jokes too often.”
“Shh… don’t tell anyone. Let it be our little secret.”
“I’ll keep yours if you keep mine.”
“What secrets of yours would I have to keep?”
This time I initiate the kissing, running my hands through his soft hair and sliding my lips over his like we have all the time in the world. “That I’m starting to like you a lot.” My hips circle over his, the delicious pressure teasing me higher.
“That’s no secret, sweetheart.”
I chuckle under my breath, moving my kisses to his neck. “Cocky jerk.”
“Hey, you’re the one grinding on me. It was pretty easy to figure out you like me. Unless, of course, you grind on men’s laps all the time. Maybe in a second or third job as a stripper?”
“Good God. Stop talking. Unless you’re going to talk dirty to me.”
Quick as a wink, he picks me up and reverses our positions, laying me underneath him on the futon. His broad chest looms over mine as his thighs brush against my own. My heart races as he settles in between my legs, already my panties are damp with desire. He grunts in frustration, his knees bumping me when he can’t stretch out. “I’m too tall for this thing. Doesn’t it open up to a bed?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak after that switcheroo he just pulled. I liked him pinning me beneath him. It felt very, very good. Sexy… and strong… and holy hotness. It made me want him to take me immediately, with no more foreplay. God, when did I become so horny?
What did you expect when you’ve denied yourself for so long?
He stands and swiftly pushes the coffee table to the left. He smiles at what I assume is a dazed look on my face. “Can you help? I haven’t worked one of these since college.”
It takes a moment for my desire-addled brain to catch up. “Sure.” I haul myself up, aware of his heated gaze watching my every move. Without too much effort, I lift the futon frame in the right spot, releasing the mattress from its upright position to slide flat.
“Nice work.”
I don’t respond, unable to tear my eyes away from the tenting in his boxers. The material pulls against his straining flesh, making my hands itch with the desire to slide the fabric away and let him spring free.
His low chuckle draws my attention upward. “You look spell bound. What naughty thoughts are running through your head?”
Unbidden the words spill out before I can stop them. “I want to strip off your boxers and explore every inch of you. I want to watch your cock throb in time to your heartbeat and then I want to slick the satiny flesh with my mouth, taking you deep. I want to hear you moan.”
His chest expands while his arms flex at his side. “Wow. That was more than I bargained for.” His hands fly to his waistband, eager to fulfill my demands. “Hold up.” Marcus looks me over, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “I think we’re jumping the gun a little bit.” He motions with his chin toward me. “You still have your pants on.”
I jut one slim hip to the side, resting a hand on it to emphasize my swagger as I stalk toward him. “Why don’t you take them off for me?”
He reaches for me. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter Eight
Marcus
Katrina is a vision of sensuality and power as she closes the distance between us. The quiet shy girl from the bar is gone, a lean mean sex machine in her place. If you had told me this afternoon I’d be in the back room of a store with a woman who made my heart sing and my body scream with desire I’d never have believed it. Especially if you’d told me right after I’d met her earlier this evening.
Where is the hesitant woman who struggled with small talk? Where is the embarrassed chit who grabbed the sex die from my hand in the
cab? She is here, without a doubt, but wrapped up in the complex woman standing before me in a plain bra and exercise pants.
I drop to my knees in front of her, resting my hands on her waistband. “Are you sure? I know we haven’t known each other long. We don’t have to rush into anything if you’d prefer to wait.”
She runs a hand through my hair, gripping the strands in a fist and releasing them. “How is time relevant? I want you. I want to let go and be in the moment. Be there with me—please?”
I nod and eagerly work the tight fabric over her hips, careful to leave her panties in place. I have no intention of rushing if I don’t have to. Her flat stomach dips between her slim hips, the scrap of white cotton over her mound more of an enticement than any silk or lace I’ve ever seen.
Unable to resist, I lean forward, placing tentative kisses along the white elastic far below her belly button. My hands slide the stretchy pants to her thighs, trapping them together while I explore the parts revealed. I cup her tight ass, squeezing the firm globes gently, reveling in her body.
Eventually my hands venture lower, skimming over the taut skin on the back of her legs. I gradually ease the yoga pants down past her knees, gratified in my actions by the gasps sounding above me.
“Who knew you’d be such a tease, Marcus? You’re killing me.”
“Hush.” I mumble against her skin. “You love it.”
Once the fabric hits the floor, she steps out of the garment, crawling onto the futon. “Come up here and join me.” Her voice a raspy purr in the candlelight.
I mirror her movements, walking on hands and knees until I cover her slender form. Without the baggy clothes she’s tinier than I expected. Petite and yet not small. Just right. “You really are stunning.”
She reaches a hand between us and strokes me through the thin layer of my boxers. “And you really are well hung.”
I laugh at her bold comment. “I’ve never had any complaints.”
She tries to slip into the front flap and I move my hips to the side. “Not so fast, hot stuff. I want to know what you’re feeling before we go further. This is supposed to be about you and your re-awakening, not me rushing to the finish—which is exactly what will happen the second you wrap that warm hand around me.” I ease down next to her, calming my racing urge to mount her like a untried youth. “Talk to me, Katrina.”
A sigh of frustration escapes her, but she answers readily enough. “I feel turned on beyond belief. My skin alternates between hot and cold. I think my nipples are hard enough to cut through my bra.” I smile at her words. “Take pity on me and lick them, please?”
“As you wish,” I say, drawing the pristine white bra cup away. Her perky breasts are not more than a handful, the hard cherry-colored tips pointing toward the ceiling. I lavish, lick, and suck on one ’til she moans, then repeat the process on the next.
“Damn, that feels so good.” Her breath hitches in her throat. “I never used to enjoy this part. Always wondered why guys made such a big deal of breasts.”
I draw one tight nipple harder, deeper into my mouth, pulling the skin of her breast taut.
“Oh… nice.”
On a hunch, I bite down softly. Nipping her tender skin with my teeth.
“Oh! That was intense. Do it again.”
I fully remove her bra and feast on her breasts at my leisure. She’s squirming in place and urging me further with her body’s encouragement. Slowly I move my attention south, trailing wet kisses and gentle nips down her abdomen, finding it hard to bite the firm skin of her stomach unless I open my jaw wider.
“Damn, girl,” I mumble against her belly button. “A man could never let himself go soft when he’s with a woman in this good of shape.”
She gasps once and digs her fingers through my hair. “W-who the hell wants to be with a guy who goes soft? Would make sex kind of impossible.”
I nip her flesh again and work my way downward to her panties. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
Her hips rise off the bed, demanding in their need. “Whatever. Oh my God. Take these off already.”
I comply to my lover’s demands, removing the last barrier to her sex in a flourish of movement. The dark hair of her pussy is short, shaved completely off in some areas. “For a woman who’s had no action in two years, you’re remarkably well-kept.”
She snorts at my observation. “I do it for me. Not for a lover.”
“Good to know,” I say as I trail one finger down her cleft. Her breathing speeds up, her squirming, too. “Tell me what you’re feeling. I want to know.”
“Christ!” She throws her head back on the mattress. “I’m feeling hot.” I dip one finger between her outer lips. “I’m feeling wet. Oh God, I’m feeling like I want to ride your hand until I scream.”
I slowly slide inside her, the tight wet walls surrounding my finger. The moistness spills out and I drag it upward, hoping to find the tiny bundle of nerves at the top.
“Oh… yes… that’s it. Please…”
With a firm touch, I circle her clit, giving the aroused flesh the attention it needs. Her hips follow my movements, and soon the only sound is her breath panting into the dim room. I decrease the pressure and increase the speed, teasing the delicate area, drawing out her pleasure.
“Tell me what you need, Katrina, and I’ll do it.”
“I…I don’t know. I just want to come.”
I trace back down to her wet opening and plunge my fingers inside, knowing full well she’ll need me working her clit to come. After a few dozen strokes she’s creaming all over my hand, wetter than I ever imagined.
“Dear God… I can’t take much more. Make me come or I’ll do it myself.”
Loving the sexy rasp of her voice and the blatant need in her words, I tempt and tease her further. “And how do you want to come, sweetheart? Do you want my cock inside you when you do?”
“Yes!” She shouts it like she’s having an epiphany. “That’s exactly what I want.” She shoves my shoulder, pushing me to lay flat on the bed. Her hot hands latch onto my underwear and yank them down my hips. “Do you have a condom in your wallet? I can’t wait any longer.”
“I do.” I start to rise to retrieve it, only to be halted by a firm hand on my chest.
“Is it in your jeans? I’ll go get it.” Katrina flies naked from the bed, scampers into the bathroom, and shouts in glee when she finds what she’s looking for.
In a flash she’s back by my side, a wild look of lust on her features. “Don’t move! I got this.”
She rips open the condom wrapper and makes short work of encasing me in it. “So freakin’ hot for you right now… you have no idea.”
“Tell me what you want and I’ll do it.” I want desperately to please her, to help her break through the years of locking her passion away.
“I want you to stop talking for a moment and let me fuck you—hard.”
I smile at the feral look on her face and wisely refrain from commenting further. Katrina straddles my hips and guides me into her waiting heat. “Oh… oh… yeah… that’s what I’ve been missing.”
She slams herself down on my hips, her feet planted firmly on the futon while she crouches over me. Her strong legs support her while she pumps up and down on my length, taking her pleasure exactly as she wants it.
“Oh…” Her mouth then opens in a silent O, no sound escaping as she rides me for all she’s worth.
I reach one hand to tickle my thumb over her clit, eager to help her reach completion. The wetness and heat surrounding me increases. Her moans and groans gain in intensity as she continues her relentless pace.
“Now… oh God… it’s happening now.”
No sooner does she say the words when I feel her body begin to ripple around mine, shuddering with the strength and depth of her release. I never let up with my thumb, if anything going faster when I know she’s cresting.
“Y-y-yesss! Fuck that pussy. Yes!”
I smile inside. Here I was ho
ping she’d be a moaner and it turns out she’s a hellfire who likes to talk dirty, too.
The shudders in her body lessen and she collapses forward, falling to her knees and resting on my chest.
“Holy hell. That was fucking fantastic,” she says while snuggling up to my neck.
“What’s the verdict?” I ask, lying tense beneath her with my own aching need. “Did you get your mojo back?”
“Oh yeah…. I certainly did. It went on and on… very nice.”
I run a hand down her sweaty back, my length throbbing inside her. I wrap my arms around her like she’s a fragile object and gently roll her underneath me.
“Good, because we’re not done yet.”
Chapter Nine
Katrina
Marcus’s words send a thrill up my spine, and his actions have me wrapping my legs around his hips, ready to hold on for whatever comes next. His broad chest and slim waist feel incredible pressed against me, and his lean muscular legs have me eager to see how flexible he is. Maybe I can talk him into yoga sex. That might be fun.
“Is it your turn now?” I ask, a lazy smile forming on my face.
He slides out of me and gently unwraps my legs. “Not quite. You really think I’d settle for just one orgasm from you? Now that I know what you’re capable of, I intend to make you scream.”
A tingle washes over me as he scoots down the mattress. His hot breath fans my thighs as his lips kiss a trail to the juncture between my legs. My hips move in a slow circle, eager for whatever delights he has in store for me.
“Oh no, you hold still.” He clamps down on my hips, pinning me to the bed. “It’s my turn to drive you wild.”
And with those last words he dips his mouth lower, touching the sensitive skin with a soft kiss. His tongue probes between the swollen lips, lapping at my opening and then moving higher to my clit.
Loving Ms. Wrong Page 6
