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“I’m leaving.”
He studies me pensively before cupping a palm over my cheek. I flutter my eyes shut, leaning into his touch while absorbing the strength it offers.
“Do you want to stay?” he asks.
Some logical part of my brain understands that this is where I’m supposed to close the door. That this is where I remind myself of everything that’s at stake, and that the second I give in, I’ll doom us both.
But fuck that. The man made me a necklace. And damn every feministic, strong-willed cell in my body if that one gesture doesn’t have me taking an inviting step backward.
“Yes,” I say, because what I feel for Marcus is so much more than a passing infatuation. It’s bone-deep, beautiful and meaningful, and I want this more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. I wanthim, and I vow to myself in this moment that I’m going to make this work somehow.
Watching my feet connect with the wood flooring just inside the door, he rumbles, “Say it again.”
“Yes, Marcus, I want to stay.”
And that’s all the encouragement he needs.
His strong arms scoop me up, holding me to his soaking-wet form as he crosses the threshold completely. He kicks the door shut, shoving my suitcase out of the way with a masculine growl that has me burying a smile into the curve of his neck.
“You’re not going anywhere, slayer,” he declares. “As far as the rest of the world is concerned, you’ve disappeared.”
My hands thread through his hair, and my thighs grip him tightly as he heads for the couch.
“Wait,” I say, shuddering from the water seeping through my clothes, chilling and exciting me all at once. His confusion forms a frown, which I kiss from his brow. “Take me upstairs.”
Reverence sparks his gaze as he understands what I’m offering him, and he takes the stairs up to the loft in record time, making me laugh before he lays me down on top of the covers.
When I was a child, the only thing I ever wanted was stability and a warm bed, in a home where I was loved unconditionally. I once thought Marcus couldn’t give me those things, but I see now that I was wrong.
Desire rakes over my body, and I bloom beneath his rapt attention as he gradually peels off his shirt. “I meant what I said about never letting you go.”
I bow off the bed when his mouth clamps over my nipple through the dampened material of my tank.
“Maybe I’ll chain you up this time.” Gripping the opposite breast, he kneads it before switching and giving that nipple the same treatment as the other. “Make you my prisoner.”
I offer a low, needy moan, which tips his lips. “I’d like to see you try.”
He sits back and grips the front of my tank top before tearing it in half with two gruff tugs. My shorts are next, and he makes quick work of yanking them off before tossing them to the floor.
“I want this,” he murmurs, echoing my thoughts so close to my core that the heat of my thighs quiver. He laps straight up the center, then flips the tip of his tongue over my clit.
I nod in quick succession. “You can have it. Just don’t stop doing that.”
A chuckle tickles my center, adding a heavy amount of pleasure to each intentional lick. In and out that tongue works, culling the beginnings of a delicious orgasm from deep in my pelvis.
“What I mean is, I want you.” He rises with careful precision, his muscles flexing as he removes the rest of his soaked clothing, and when the bed dips, I eagerly wriggle toward him.
He teases my entrance, looking at me sternly. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Our chests brush as my heart swells to the point of overflowing.
“You’re safe with me, and you always will be.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
With that, Marcus slides forward. His arms, strong and corded, tremble when he’s fitted completely inside me, and I thrash my head, overwhelmed by the deliberate way he curls and thrusts, hitting all the right spots.
“It’s us against the world, slayer.” Marcus kisses me tenderly, matching his pace to the way he’s making love to my mouth, and then whispers against my lips, “No matter what.”
