Page 55 of Marcus

Cella licked her lips, saying, “For my heart.”

“Yeah, that.”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Marcus.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth as he said, “Good. But you should know there’s no reason to worry about your heart here, Cella.”

A breath caught in her chest.

Why, she almost asked, because you’re not here for my heart?

His next words came too fast for her to say anything at all. “I couldn’t hurt your heart—wouldn’t even try. Besides, I might like to keep it.”

Why would he say that?

Words like those made it hard for her to protect the heart in her chest. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to give it over to him quite yet. He saved her from having to make a choice right then and there by kissing her instead of saying anything else.

He fucked like he kissed, she had come to learn. With no restraint, and totally willing to take every single bit of her that she was willing to give him. Wild or not, soft or so rough … any of it, he would take. Their lips moved in a familiar dance, tongues slashing together for just another taste while the two of them began shedding clothes.

One piece at a time.

Lips only parting when necessary.

Before Cella had met Marcus again, whenever she thought about dating … these moments that she shared with this man had been the kind of thoughts that would freeze her with fear. Her body had changed after her child, and while she was proud to get it back to the trim state it had been before, that didn’t mean everything was the same. Silly and vain, maybe, but with dating and relationships came sex.

Truth be told, she never worried with Marcus.

Never even thought about it.

It made her realize that it wasn’t the faded, few white lines on her tummy that scared her, or even the fact that her hips were slightly wider from carrying a child, but rather … the fact she just hadn’t been ready to be intimate again with someone.

Except now she was …

Didn’t even have to think about it.

That’s what this man did for her.

She adored him more because of it.

Marcus’s hands slid up over her hips, over her waist, atop her breasts, and then came to a stop at her throat. Those deft fingers of his circled the column, making her heart thrum harder against his palms. She didn’t have to wonder if he liked the feeling of making her heart race. She could see it in his eyes that he did.

All that was between them now was a bit of air, and she closed that distance easily enough when she circled his cock with her palm. The first stroke of her hand along his pulsing length had him jerking closer to her. The second brought him close enough that he flattened her back against the door again while his hard lines molded against her feminine curves.

One of his hands slipped higher on her throat, coming to rest on her jaw as his thumb dragged over the pad of her lower lip. The urge to suck on the tip of his thumb came on swift, and his approving groan echoed in the bedroom when she dragged the digit between her teeth to get a taste of his skin.

“There’s something about the look of you like this,” he told her.

Hungry.

Rough.

That’s what his tone sounded like.

He spoke even while she continued tugging on his cock, and rubbing him against her body while she tried, and failed, to help with her own need. Nothing would help with that until he was between her thighs and making her pray in a whole new way.

“Oh?” she whispered.

“Mmhmm, when you let me put these hands on that pretty throat, and you look so fucking close to begging when I haven’t done barely anything at all. It’s … perfect.”