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“Whoa, none of that,” I say.
“What?” she asks, pouting.
“You need to rest.”
“You’re joking, right? You’re not going to make me wait six weeks, are you?”
“Well, I’m definitely not fucking you on your first day home from the hospital,” I tell her.
“That’s fine. I’ll just take care of myself,” she says, smirking.
“You’re going to be the death of me.” I groan.
“Wanna watch? Again,” she says, grinning.
My thoughts drift back to the night at the beach house. It was definitely the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
Her shirt being tossed at me shakes me from my dirty thoughts.
“Marley,” I groan, putting my fist up to my mouth.
“What?” She shrugs, trying to act innocent.
“I cannot fuck you right now.”
“I told you I was going to take care of myself.” She smirks.
I watch her pull her cotton shorts off, struggling just a little when it comes to the cast, but revealing she’s not wearing any fucking underwear underneath them.
“Jesus,” I mutter.
“Not Jesus, but Marley,” she says, grinning.
I tilt my head up, looking at the ceiling.
I stalk over to her, grabbing her wrist before she manages to lay a finger on herself.
“What are you doing?” she asks, frowning.
“I’m not going to fuck you, but I will take care of you,” I tell her, pinning her hands up above her head.
Her eyes fill with heat.
“Don’t move your fucking hands,” I tell her.
She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, and I lean down for a long, deep kiss.
“Don’t move,” I tell her, hovering over her body.
She nods in response, and I move myself down to the bottom of the bed, running my hand on the inside of her thigh.
“This is not about me today, got it?” I ask.
She nods.
I run my tongue against her clit, and her body immediately bucks in response.
“What did I say about moving?” I growl, and her eyes heat with desire.
