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“I want to do that and then eat and then do it again,” she said with a giggle. He wouldn’t hate her audacity, would he? If the way his eyes smoldered at her suggestion was any indication, he didn’t dislike it at all.
“I do like it when you take me by the hand and lead me,” he whispered, his fiery lips kissing just above the spring of hair between her thighs.
“Marcus,” she complained.
“What’s good for the goose and all that,” he said, mocking her earlier words. He slid his fingertips into her heat and began to stroke her from top to bottom. He slid a finger inside her quickly, rimming her entrance, and that brought her wetness up to that pulse point at the top of her sex. “I think I know how to please you,” he whispered with a smile, his touch growing more insistent.
“Yes, you do…” she gasped out.
Her breath hitched in her throat, and she was no longer able to respond to him, aside from a moan and a squeeze of his arm.
“I do like exploring you,” he said, as he bent and drew her nipple into his mouth.
“I like your exploration,” she managed to squeak out.
“I can tell,” he said. But he pulled his hand back and moved to lie between her thighs. “But I can’t wait one more moment to be inside you.”
“Please don’t wait,” she said, although she already missed his touch. He spread her thighs wide and looked down at her, licking his lips in a most carnal manner. He left a little space between them when he entered her. This time was still slow and soft, but he filled her fully and completely, rotating his hips around as he was seated fully inside.
“God, that’s pretty,” he groaned as he looked down at the place where they were joined. She flung an arm over her eyes to keep from seeing him, and he just chuckled. But then one hand snaked between them, and he began to rub that pulse point he’d discovered as he moved inside her. He took her slowly, building in speed as she urged him on.
“Don’t stop,” she said, her hips arching to meet his thrusts.
***
Marcus watched her face as he brought her higher and higher. He had to bite his lip and think about ices at Gunter’s and the cold water in the morning that he poured from the pitcher in his chambers. It wasn’t working. His balls ached with the need to spend inside her. Every thrust was pure heaven, and the way she arched to meet him nearly undid him.
But he continued, rolling his fingers over her pleasure center as he moved in and out, in and out, in and out, and then with a cry, she reached out, and he caught her hand in his. She spasmed on his manhood like a tight fist, and he rode out the storm with her squeezing
him, her body quaking in his arms. He came inside her, soaking her walls with his release. And he’d never felt so at peace as he did in that moment when he collapsed on top of her and pushed her damp hair from her face. He’d made love to her twice. He’d taken her innocence, and she’d taken his, just as it should be.
He rolled off her and flopped onto his back. “Did you know Ronald and Milly are married?”
She lifted her arm from her eyes and looked over at him, her blue eyes clear in the waning light. “No,” she said, and she laughed. “I knew she had an odd obsession with his whereabouts. They don’t spend much time together.” She nodded her head. “That makes sense, now that you mention it.”
“Do you think they’re faithful to one another?” Marcus couldn’t help but ask.
“I think I don’t want to think about Milly and Ronald doing what we just did,” she said with a shudder.
“He said they might plant a seed in the ground and see what grows of it.”
He leaned over Cecelia and laid his face on her stomach, looking up over the swell of her breasts to see her face. She didn’t stop him, and she twined her fingers with his. He kissed the soft skin of her belly tenderly.
“Milly and Ronald with a child. I shudder to think,” she said, laughing.
He kissed her stomach again, imagining the swell of unborn life that could be theirs, and he smiled. “I want a child. Or two. Or ten.”
She nodded, but she didn’t respond except to say, “You always did.”
The fingers of her free hand toyed with his unbound hair. “You don’t?” he probed.
She held up a single finger. “One day,” she groaned. “You promised me one day.”
“One day,” he agreed. He would give her one day. And then he would ask her all the questions he needed to ask her. And he needed some answers from her. But they could wait as long as her one day. “I’m hungry,” he said, reaching for the basket he’d set beside the bed. “And I might just use you for the plate.”
“Promises, promises.” She giggled.
She sounded like his Cecelia so he didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he wanted some answers now. Some things could not wait. “What made you cry earlier, Cecelia?” he asked as he set a wedge of cheese on her belly and popped a blueberry into her mouth.
