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My back arches, and he pushes me down again, flat on the table, holding me immobile with the steady, relentless rhythm of his lips and tongue. Fuck, it feels so good, and I’m mindless with pleasure as I push up and over the edge at last, coming apart beneath his mouth. Instinctively I clamp my legs around his head, but his hands come up and spread me wide again, firmly pushing my knees back against the table.
Pulses from my orgasm are still washing over me, my eyes rolling back into my head. When I open them I notice that he is looking down at me, watching me closely with fire and hunger in those blue, blue eyes.
He starts to unbutton his shirt. “Sit up, Madeline.”
Slowly I struggle to a sitting position as I continue to watch him. With his shirt now unbuttoned, I get my first glimpse of the man underneath. His body is beautiful, every muscle well-defined, compact, hard. He has a firm chest dusted with dark hair, a hard abdomen with six-pack and that V that dips below his waist. He removes his shirt and his biceps are exquisitely defined, veined, firm. He moves an arm forward, and that’s when I notice the tattoo on his right forearm—a simple infinity symbol inked in black.
I swallow, feeling that desire build again inside of me. I didn’t think it could be possible to feel so satisfied and yet so hungry at the same time.
His hand goes to his belt and then it stops. He steps forward and reaches around the back of my dress where I’m still sitting like a vegetable on the table. With one swift motion, it’s completely unzipped and he has peeled the bodice away from me, but I’m still watching the sweat sheen on his muscles as he moves. He smells of clean aftershave, sweat and sex. That hunger stirs in the pit of my belly again like a thing alive.
I need him inside me. Now.
But I won’t be the one to decide that. He will.
Chapter 15
Marked
I slip off the table, letting the dress fall to the floor. Soon, the shredded scrap of lace that were once Sam’s new panties join it. I’m completely naked except for the silver strappy heels. I bend to remove them, but he stops me.
“No. Leave them on.”
I swallow. He hasn’t moved as his eyes rove over every inch of my body, and I suddenly feel self-conscious. His gaze rests first on my beaded nipples, then slides across my belly to rest at the apex of my thighs. Slowly, very deliberately he licks his lips.
“I can’t wait to feel that delicious little pussy wrapped around my cock, Madeline, to feel you pulsing with your orgasm, squeezing me.” He reaches for his belt, unbuckles it and then unzips his trousers, reaching into the pocket to grab something before letting them slide to the ground. Beneath, he’s wearing boxers and those quickly follow and he’s naked before me, his large cock swollen and jutting out from his perfect, hard body.
I moan at the sight of him.
“Get back on the table,” he grinds in a thick, husky voice. I pause for a moment, confused that he doesn’t want to move this to the bed. He senses that, revealing the wrapped condom in his hand. “I’m taking you right here. Right now.”
With a deep breath, I slide back onto the table. The marble surface is hard and cold underneath me. He approaches me again, like he did before, pressing my knees wide apart.
His hand sweeps up to grasp my hair and pull my head to tilt my face up to his. “My turn now,” he grates.
With our gazes locked, I do what I’ve been craving to do since he first took off his shirt. I touch his chest. It’s perfect, hard, smooth, dusted with enough hair to feel manly, rough. He stills for a minute and I wonder if he’s holding his breath. He seems to want me to continue touching him, so I do.
I run my hands over his hard pecs, palm his nipples and then pinch them just as he did mine. A low growl emits from the base of his throat but my hands have roamed lower, over his hard six pack abs, tracing the lines between them. And then even lower, to land on the soft skin of his erect cock. My fingers wrap around the base of it. He’s both very long and thick around. I have not had a wide amount of experience with this part of the male anatomy, but I know he’s a lot bigger than Jason was.
Is it going to hurt? Or will it just feel amazing? I swallow…. Or maybe it will be a little bit of both?
The thought of feeling both pain and pleasure as he thrusts inside of me makes me even wetter. I can feel my moisture pool onto the table. I slip my hand from the base of his cock to the tip, pinching it. With a loud grunt, he takes my shoulders and gently pushes me back against the table so that I’m lying down again, looking up at him. He stands over me, never taking his eyes off of me as he rips the foil wrapper on the condom and slides it onto his swollen cock.
He props each of my sandaled feet onto the back of a chair to each side of him. Then, he grabs my knees, pulling me toward him so that my butt is flush with the edge of the table. With my knees as widely apart as they will go, he then takes hold of himself, nudging the tip of his cock against my entrance. The moment I feel him there, I suck in a sharp breath, tensing with anticipation.
“Breathe, Madeline. Relax.”
He slowly guides himself into me, stretching me as he pushes deeper but never stopping. When he’s halfway in, he lets out a deep groan. “Christ, you are so goddamn tight. Your pussy feels so good, I can barely control myself.”
I swallow. He’s been gentle up until now and it hasn’t hurt much—there’s just a bit of tension from where he stretches me in muscles long dormant from lack of use.
But now, his jaw tenses and his eyes glaze over. I realize I’m witnessing his loss of control. He grabs my hips and plunges the rest of the way into me with a sharp, deep thrust. I grunt in pain as he hits a barrier deep inside me. The sensation is deeply pleasurable and painful at the same time. But another jerk of his hips tells me that there’s still more of him and the pinch of pain is making my eyes water.
But he doesn’t notice. He’s too immersed in his own bliss.
“Oh, God,” he breathes, stilling, closing his eyes and appearing to savor the feeling of me wrapped around him. Clamping my hips, he slides slowly out, the friction of his movement pulling the breath out of my lungs. He’s almost completely out before he thrusts forward, slamming into me again with such a force that makes me gasp in pain. He’s so big it hurts. But…it feels good. So good.
I wiggle my hips, but he clasps them, holding me still while he continues to push in and out of me with a quick, relentless rhythm. The air sucks out of my lungs and yet I watch him—his glazed, burning eyes, the tension in his jaw and neck. That magnificent chest rising and falling with his heavy breathing.
