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“I really, really like having you in my house,” Mark murmured as he rubbed his lips against the top of my head. “You and Vali both. You bring it to life. You bring me to life.”
I turned in his arms, looking up at him in the warm lighting, and my breath caught as I took him in. After everything that happened, I still found myself feeling a sense of wonder that I could actually touch Mark. For years, I’d hoped and prayed for this moment. Now that I was finally there, I felt a bit overwhelmed. Tears prickled at my eyes as his smile turned to a frown.
“Layla, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I ducked my head, resting my cheek on his thick chest.
“Baby bear,” he purred as he stroked my hair. “Please tell me what’s wrong. How can I fix it if I don’t know?”
Sucking in a watery breath, I slowly let it out, getting myself under control. “You must think I’m a big crybaby. That I’m weak.”
His arms tightened around me, and I relaxed into his embrace. “No, I think you’ve gone through a lot. Tears are a way for your body to deal with the stress. Everyone cries, Layla. It’s a natural reaction. It doesn’t make you weak or stupid. It makes you human.”
“You always know how to make me feel better.”
Pushing out of his arms, I blew out a breath and took a step deeper into the room, wanting to see what was on the shelves at the back wall that I could just barely glimpse.
“Wait,” Mark said from behind me, “hold on.”
But I’d already spied a gleam of shiny, shiny red. It caught my attention as surely as a matador’s cape caught a bull’s. The material flashed in the golden lights like it was wet as I rounded a stack of boxes, then gasped. This space must have been a massive closet at some point, because there were long silver clothing rods on the back wall, filled with what looked like a hundred different pieces of fetish gear.
My heart thumped in my ears as I slowly walked forward, and my mind spun as I took in various outfits. Everything from black leather to pink lace caught my eye, but it was a set of outfits at the very end that had my knees going weak. My hands shook as I moved a red latex dress with the breasts cut out to the side and took in a frilly, fancy, Victorian inspired piece of lingerie that I’d obsessed over. It was an exact replica of the dress Mercy had worn while she worked undercover as a brothel madam in the second issue of My Lord and His Mercy.
The gleaming white corset was decorated with embroidered purple roses which led down to a full purple velvet skirt. Well, half skirt. The front was raised high enough to show a pair of sparkly purple panties. Purple silk garter straps hung down, and I’d bet somewhere around here there was a set of white, thigh high fishnet stockings.
Slowly I ran my fingers over the velvet of the skirt, completely in awe. “Where…? How…? Is this for me?”
“Yes,” he said from right behind me, startling me. “I told you I think about you a lot.”
I slid the dress down the rod, admiring the back and the way the train was decorated with sparkling crystals. “Where did you find this?”
“I have my sources.”
Looking over my shoulder, I smiled from ear to ear up at him, no doubt looking goofy as hell but not caring one bit. “Thank you, thank you so much! I love it.”
A strange look came over his handsome face a moment before he kissed me.
The rough scratch of his beard against my mouth contrasted deliciously with the smooth, firm touch of his lips. I moaned as he nibbled and nipped, my body responding eagerly to his presence. Threading my fingers through his impossibly thick hair, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him back, squeaking when he placed both his hands beneath my butt and lifted me up.
I wrapped my legs around his waist as best I could, hanging on as he continued to walk and kiss me.
Normally, I’d be impressed by his ability to multi-task, but I was too busy squirming as his fingers groped my ass beneath my dress.
My breath left me in a whoosh as we fell onto the bed together, our bodies intertwining like we couldn’t get close enough. His tongue slicked against mine, the soft sounds of pleasure that he made feeding my own desire. I loved knowing he was so into me, loved the fact that he clearly worshiped me. I felt safe with him, cherished and worshiped. It was a heady, amazing sensation made all the better by the undercurrent of deep affection in his every touch.
