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Two thick fingers slide into me as if they own me, as if they don’t belong anywhere else. Marcus’s eyelids droop as he hooks them, rubbing my g-spot and pulling me closer to him all in one motion. His breaths are harsh and deep, and I have a sudden vivid memory of the first time I was face-to-face with him after he came back into my life.
That day in the library when he made me come on his fingers.
“Who does this belong to, angel?” he murmurs roughly.
“You.”
“Who else?”
“Ryland and Theo.”
“Who else?”
“No one.”
“For how long?” he demands.
“Forever.”
He groans, pumping his fingers deeper and massaging my g-spot again. I pulled him away from the others to talk about Victoria and what we should do about her. About our plan to take Luca down. A few moments ago, sex was the furthest thing from my mind, and now I’m on the verge of coming on Marcus’s hand, pushed over the edge by a few strokes of his fingers and his deep voice in my ears.
As if he can feel the change in my body, the coiled heat begging to be let free, Marcus presses his thumb to my clit, massaging in a rapid pulse as his fingers plunge in and out of me.
Pleasure spikes inside me. There’s no warning or preamble before the orgasm tears through my body, singeing my nerve-endings and drawing a shuddering cry from my lips.
Aftershocks are still coursing through me when Marcus draws his fingers out abruptly, smearing my arousal over my skin before reaching up to grab my hand in his. His other hand deftly unbuckles his pants, then he pulls his cock free and brings our joined hands down to wrap around the pulsing heat of his shaft.
He’s hard and velvety-smooth, the veins that run along the length of him pulsing. Everything about his cock is angry. Demanding. Insistent.
Using his grip on me to guide our movements, he jerks himself off with my hand, holding my gaze as his pupils dilate and his body shudders.
“Who does this belong to, angel? Say it.”
“Me.” I lick my lips, my pussy throbbing, my core clenching around nothing. “It belongs to me.”
“Who else does it belong to?”
“No one.”
He growls, thrusting harder into our strokes, his hand tightening around mine. “What would you do if another woman touched what was yours? If she tried to take what was yours?”
I make a small noise in the back of my throat. I just came hard from his fingers and thumb, but the needy ache hasn’t subsided. His words are only stoking the flame higher.
“I’d kill her,” I rasp out.
“Fuck, angel. Oh fuck.”
His cock swells beneath my palm, his thrusts becoming harder and choppier. Desperate to feel his release, to taste it, I suddenly drop to my knees in front of him. He releases my hand, slamming both of his palms against the door as I wrap my lips around him, using my fist and my mouth to stroke his entire length.
My tongue swirls over his smooth head, lapping up his salty pre-cum, and when I take him as deep as I can, bringing him all the way into my throat, he curses.
His hips jerk forward, cutting off my air supply entirely, filling my senses with nothing but him.
Then he explodes, his cock pulsing over and over as salty cum hits the back of my tongue. I swallow, my hand sliding up his shirt and over the hard plane of his stomach as he shudders again.
Finally, I release him from my mouth, sitting back on my heels as I look up at him. From this angle, he looks like a god of darkness, looming over me as the gray morning light frames his shadowy form.
His gaze catches mine, and he holds that connection as he reaches down to tuck himself away, zipping his pants up slowly.
