Chapter 37 Cass

As soon as we reached the front door of Marcus's apartment, all bets were off. I couldn't keep my hands off him as he struggled to locate the right key and put it into the lock. My lips were everywhere I could see bare skin. I wanted to touch every part of him. I wanted to kiss every part of him. And that still wouldn't have been enough to show him how much I loved him.

When we burst through the door, I barely registered we were in a different apartment. I was riding a wave of lust, alcohol, and the sweet scent of this beautiful man. It wasn't until Marcus picked me up and walked me in the opposite direction of his old bedroom that I realized we were in a completely different unit.

Luckily, he hadn't gotten rid of his humongous bed. He dropped me onto the familiar white comforter and climbed on top of me, kissing a path up from my neck to my mouth. His heat drifted over me, surrounding me. It was a preview of things to come—of his body covering mine as he worked himself into me and claimed me.

Because I was his.

"Wait," I declared, speaking into his lips. The word slipped out without me catching it, but I was grateful it was there. I needed a moment. I needed to make sure he was here.

He pulled back a few inches so he could look at me. Somehow, he had become even more handsome in the last six months. His jaw was scratchy with stubble and there was something different in his eyes. They were still striking and warm and such a pale green that they would turn heads whenever he was in public. So beautiful. He was so beautiful. I had thought about those eyes every single day. I pictured them fixating on me as I came in his arms, like I had done so many times—each one more intense than the last. But there was a weight in his eyes, like he had seen the world through a different filter for the past six months.

That weight made me love him more—if that was even possible.

"What's wrong?"

I placed my hand on his cheek and ran my thumb along the edge of his lower lip. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." He turned and kissed the pad of my thumb. Softly. Lovingly. "And if we hadn't just spent the last fifteen minutes making out in an Uber, I would have told you that sooner."

He wasn't kidding. We had gotten into the backseat of the car and had immediately resumed kissing each other, like we both wanted to make up for the six months of lost time in the short trip over the Brooklyn Bridge. "Do you think that driver gave you a bad rating?"

Marcus cocked an eyebrow and that simple gesture was almost enough to make me squeal with delight because he was just so fucking skeptical and adorable. I was not a woman who squealed with delight. Ever. But he had this uncanny way of making me feel like I could.

"To be honest," he said, "I can't even tell you the driver's name or preferred gender at this point, so I have no idea if they were deeply offended…or kind of into it."

"I was into it," I replied before I pulled his lips back towards mine. "I need you to fuck me in a car one day."

"Yeah?" he asked as he toyed with the hem of my top. His tone darkened when mine did. His words were coy and his motions were deliberate—practiced. He knew what I liked. He knew what I needed. "You want me to take you in a car where anyone can see what we're doing?"

I nodded vigorously, my heart racing from both the thought of it and from the feeling of his fingers caressing my bare skin. His touch had been a noticeable absence in my life. I had awoken on several occasions yearning for the feel of him and with my body thrumming at the memories of what he had done to me. If I wasn't careful tonight, I would overindulge in him—and we would both come gloriously in a matter of minutes.

I didn't want that. I wanted to savor him. I wanted to take my time.

"You can have me in a car. You can have me wherever you want."

"Of course I can," he said as he surveyed me. "You love being a slut for me. Fuck, I missed you." He began to kiss me harder, weaving one hand into my hair and holding the back of my head. After a few seconds, his hand lowered to my neck, where he gently wrapped his fingers around me. Immediately, heat blossomed from that spot. I let out a gasp, urging him on.

He once told me I needed this. He was so, so right.

Marcus moved his other hand up my stomach and his touch was hot against my skin. I shivered distantly, feeling the early embers of pleasure. He dragged his hand up to my breast and slid it over the top of the lace cup of my bra. My nipple crowned to his touch, beading decadently against his palm.

"So responsive," he murmured as he caressed my nipple. "Your body recognizes me. It knows I'm the only one to ever make it feel like this."

My body missed him so much, there was a welcome home party taking place deep in my center. My stomach fluttered and every inch of skin on me was awake and alert. It was like sitting outside on a cold night with a roaring fire just a few feet away. It was a full body stimulation overload.

"It belongs to you," I responded breathlessly as my hands rose to fist his hair. I tugged on him. I wanted him. I was greedy for him. I barely recognized myself at first, but then I realized this is how I always felt around Marcus. Alive. Desperate. Privileged to be able to touch him.

I needed him . I needed to have this man I had grown to love—but had been deprived of for half of a year. I needed him now and always.

"Tell me you missed me," he instructed. He pulled away and locked his green eyes on mine—hand still on my neck. His voice was commanding and businesslike—and so indescribably sexy. "I want to hear it."

I hesitated too long. I spent too long admiring him.

"Fucking tell me you missed me," he gritted out as he tightened his hold on me. God, I loved it when he did that.

"I missed you," I obliged, staring at him hungrily. "I thought about you every day."

His eyes flashed with satisfaction. "Did you touch yourself when you thought of me?"

He asked the question like he didn't know the answer was yes—as if he hadn't made me come with his words over the phone at least once a week since we parted.

"I thought of you sucking my tits," I answered, moving to pull off my tank top. I wasted no time unhooking my bra either.

His eyes drifted to my nipples. I recognized that look—admiration and adulation like I had never experienced before. His sinful mouth was on them in seconds, sucking on my hard nipples as I undid the button on his jeans.

" Yes , just like that," I murmured as a surge of pleasure coursed through me. Marcus tugged on a piercing and I let out another gasp. "And I thought of you inside me."

"Of course you did," he replied, lips brushing over my skin as he spoke. "You're so fucking hungry for my cock, Cass. I'm not surprised."

I smiled. I had missed his filthy mouth the most.

"And did you miss being spread open by me?" he asked as he pulled back. In a swift motion, he tugged his shirt over his head, allowing me to feast on the sight of his flawless skin. I couldn't stop myself from immediately running my hands over his chest. He felt so wonderful—and so real (thank god).

"I missed it so much."

"You waited for me all this time."

"Always."

"You're ready for me to fuck you bare," he went on. "You'll let me cum inside of you. Fill you with it."

Fill you with it.

I couldn't speak. All I could do was nod as that filthy thought melted onto my skin.

"I'm done with my contract," he continued. He leaned over me as he spoke, elevated on his hands. At this angle, his hair hung over his forehead. I reached up and brushed it back. "No more rules for us to follow."

"We never followed the rules," I reminded him.

"Fuck no." He kissed me. "But I loved breaking them with you."

"So what will you do with me tonight?"

He smirked. "I have so many ideas. Like fucking you into the mattress, to start. Making you come so hard that you lose your voice with my name in your throat. Maybe we put a few other things in that throat, actually."

I pulled him down and wrapped my arms around his neck, letting our bare chests touch. His pectorals brushed against my nipples, which were hard and wet from his mouth. Anticipation surged in me. We had been apart for so long—longer than I would ever allow again. In that time, my mind had run wild with everything I wanted to do with him on this night.

Marcus placed his hands on my thighs and began to work my skirt upwards. Finally. I didn't want clothing between us—or anything for that matter.

He made sweet sounds and soft groans as he revealed my body. Those sounds lifted me a thousand feet beyond the atmosphere. He was marveling at me. After all this time, he was still amazed by me.

Feeling admired and feeling bold, I put my lips near his ear. "I want you in my ass," I told him.

His hands were still on my thighs as he drew his face away from mine. He was watching me, one eyebrow raised and his expression illegible. After a moment, his mouth curled into a soft smile. "Really?"

I nodded, which drew a bigger smile from him. In that moment, I was struck with that familiar wave of affection I so often felt when his earnestness came to light. Sweet Marcus. My Marcus.

"I've never done that," he commented. "I don't know where to start."

"That's not a problem." I leaned up to give him a quick kiss on the lips.

That quick kiss turned into a much deeper one though. His hands stroked over my ass, each one gripping a cheek as his tongue probed through my lips to massage against my own tongue. There was a renewed urgency in his motions—like our unspoken plan to take it slow had gone back to the drawing board. Tonight would be efficient. And rough. And intimate.

And wonderful.

He removed the rest of my clothing and his, and he rejoined me on the bed. After another few minutes of kissing like our lives depended on it, I rolled out of his grasp and snuggled my back against his front. Our naked bodies aligned together. Where my knees bent, so did his. He encircled me in his arms and held me close. Pointedly, I wiggled my ass against his bare cock. He took the hint.

"What do I…" he trailed off as he rested his hand against my stomach. Slowly, he ran it up and down my body, making me practically melt against him. I was sliding into a blissful state of calm anticipation. When he lifted his hand up to my mouth, I didn't hesitate to draw his middle and index fingers between my lips.

I sucked on his fingers, glancing over my shoulders as I did it. When we made eye contact, he let out a moan that resonated through the deepest part of me. "That looks amazing," he murmured. His voice was soft and doting.

Marcus leaned forward and rested his lips on the sensitive spot on the column of my neck. "You're so lovely."

Another kiss.

"I've waited so long to be with you," he continued.

Another kiss. Gently, he pulled his fingers out of my mouth.

"I was thinking about you last night. I was so close to getting in a car to come see you."

His hand moved along the globe of my ass, until it settled on the spot where my cheek met my thigh. It danced in that soft line, tracing the edge of my curves.

"I was so desperate for you that I asked myself, ‘What the hell is this woman doing to me?' And then I realized I finally had the one thing I had wanted for ten years. For so goddamn long." He shook his head. "You have no idea how happy you make me. You have no idea how much I need you to feel complete."

Turning to face him as best as I could, I looked into his eyes just as his fingers reached my asshole. I gasped as I nodded. "I do know."

"You do?" His fingertip was massaging my bud, making tender circles over the entrance. My body tensed involuntarily each time he dipped into me. That shock quickly subsided as I eased into his skilled touch.

"I get you," I answered, my voice bright with lust as I relaxed deeper into his caress. "I get you because I feel the same way."

He brought his other hand up to my ass and held my cheek up, giving himself easier access as he continued to massage me.

"Keep doing that," I guided, allowing myself to close my eyes. I sighed and cooed at the same time when he dipped his index finger inside of me all the way to his knuckle. "Keep playing with me like that. Stretch me."

"You want me to put it in your ass so badly," he whispered. I shivered at his words. "You're filthy, my love. I can't believe how filthy you are."

"Yes you can," I responded, groaning as he dipped that fingertip into me again. "You made me this way."

Behind me, I heard him intake a sharp breath. He loved that idea; he loved the idea that sex had never been good until he came along.

It was a fact though. It was a simple matter of fact.

Marcus continued this slow preparation, alternating between massaging me gently and venturing with the tip of his finger. He added lube to the mix and began to penetrate me deeper, bringing his finger all the way up to the second knuckle. I would have given anything to see it—to see his fingers working in and out of my ass. I imagined those fingers that had pleasured me countless times, disappearing into my most intimate part. He was right—it was so filthy.

As he worked me, I reached back and took a hold of his cock. It was warm in my hand, pulsing as I positioned it at the entrance to my pussy. Momentarily, he hesitated. I could guess what he was thinking—was I backing out (literally) of letting him in my ass?

"Just until I'm ready," I cooed as I continued to rub his cockhead against my pussy. "Please, Marcus. It's the only way I'll be able to take it all."

"Why didn't you say so earlier?" he asked. "You know I'll always give you what you need."

I let out an expletive as he swiftly pressed his cock into me, starting off a languid and divine series of strokes. The sudden shift from empty to full had me clawing at the sheets. I was filled with him—with the feeling of his cock in my pussy and his fingers in my ass. The only thing missing was something in my mouth. He sensed this the same moment that I did and brought up his hand to tug on my hair. My lips collided with his in a searing, gasping kiss.

He was fucking me, finally, and it was rough and it was carnal and it was perfect. It was the first time he had ever been bare inside of me, no protection. It was the first time any guy had done that, and I marveled at the heat of his member. We were joined—connected in unprecedented ways.

I lowered my hand down to my clit and began to stroke, my body jolting with pleasure at that first contact. He pulled away from my mouth so he could look over my shoulder.

"That's it," he whispered into my ear. "Look at you playing with yourself. You're so hungry for sex. You can't get enough."

"I can't," I admitted, smiling as I felt the early stages of my orgasm beginning to simmer.

"Insatiable," he continued. He brought my earlobe between his teeth and gave it a hard suck. "A cock in your pussy and my two fingers in your ass, and that's still not enough?"

"More," I pleaded as he began to quicken his pace, fucking me outright. "I want more."

He released my earlobe from his lips and pulled back—all the way out of me. I was on the verge of whirling around and demanding an explanation when he rubbed his cock against the ring of my asshole. I paused, wondering if he would give me all of him. As soon as his cock pushed into my opening, I realized how stupid it was for me to ever doubt him.

Marcus worked his cock into me, pushing in a fraction of an inch each time. It was decadent sweetness in such a dark act, but that was Marcus—that rare mix of dark and sweet all at once. I groaned with the feeling of my body stretching around him, slowly accepting him into me. When he finally worked through my tight ring, he paused with the head of his cock penetrating me.

"You feel so good," he murmured, his voice already straining. He leaned forward and kissed my shoulder, which quickly evolved into a soft bite when I wiggled back to take in more of him.

"Please. I want more."

"More?" he questioned. He was teasing me. He knew I needed more—he knew I could take more.

I flexed my muscles, urging my body to adjust to him. The deep burn was melting into something more—something taboo and heated—something I loved.

"Give me it all," I whispered, leaning my head back over my shoulder. "I want all of you."

"You've always had me," he responded as he slowly pushed his cock all the way into me.

We both stilled. I marveled at the fullness of it all—and at the way his hands immediately began to caress me. He rubbed over my curves and hefted my breast, delivering a soft touch wherever he saw skin. His hands were loving but possessive at the same time. He was taking note of his territory—memorizing the hills and plains on the body of the woman he loved.

I sighed out and nodded, running my hands over his. We were working in tandem, caressing me together—caressing him.

"Fuck me," I whispered after moments had passed. "I'm ready for you."

"I love you," he murmured. He inhaled sharply as he navigated a stroke, testing how much I could take from him. I nodded approvingly, urging him to keep going.

The pleasure was sharp and acute, so different than how it felt when he was in my pussy. I rotated my hips, drawing out more sensations from the tight connection between us. When I moved, he moved in complement. The coordination was so natural and so devastating.

"So sexy," he said as he began to build a rhythm. "I would do anything for you. You know that, right? I would do anything for you, Cass. God, you feel so damn good…"

His hand lowered to my clit and he began to stroke me, and that was when I started feeling the intensity of my orgasm beginning to crest. Sensing the change in my response, he began to thrust in and out of me harder. It was rapture in the making—and all thanks to him. Beautiful Marcus. Filthy and rough and too-competent-to-be-real Marcus.

"Yes, Marcus," I cried out, moaning loudly now, completely unashamed. My body undulated lewdly, inviting him to take me as hard as he wanted to—as hard as he needed to. "Please—make me yours."

He was really fucking my ass now. He was pumping in and out of me with that trademark control and precision. Order amid chaos—that was Marcus. My body rippled with the feeling of him taking me, urging me to give into our carnality. I could feel the tingles of pleasure striking me, heating me from every inch of my body.

"I love you," he gritted, his voice straining as he held back his orgasm to keep fucking me. "I love you so much, Cass."

I nodded. "I know, Marcus. I know." I reached back and ran my hand over his hair. "You're my entire world."

And just as soon as I said that, he thrusted into me with unyielding vigor. He let out a low groan and I felt his warmth fill my ass. He was coming inside of me, nothing between us. He was saying my name and telling me how much he loved me, never once stopping his hand on my clit or his cock in my ass.

I was brimming with him, filled with his release. I was riding the intense sensation of his thrusts that somehow felt like they were sinking deeper into me. Again and again, he stroked into me until I was mindless. Seconds later, just at the tail-end of his orgasm, I came—and it was more than words could capture.

His name escaped my lips, hitting the walls around us as pleasure enraptured me. It was so good—so fucking good. It was worth every second that we spent apart. And even while I was coming harder than I had come in months, his hand just kept working me.

"Another one," he grunted in my ear as he strained behind me. "You can give me one more. One fucking more, love."

More .

It was burning heat and blinding pleasure—with only his hands to remind me I was still on earth. I cried out, declaring my love for him and thanking him. This guy. This fucking guy who made me feel better than anyone ever had. Nobody came close to him—not by leagues.

We landed together. Arms tangled around each other, we worked to catch our breath.

Slowly, he eased his cock out of me and he didn't waste a second before he drew me into his arms once more. He cradled me close, rubbing my hair and planting kisses on my cheeks and my mouth. One hand moved down to cradle my ass.

Marcus and I had been together more times than I could count, but I knew this would be the encounter that would stick with me for years to come. The weight of him. The admiration in his gaze as he watched me. The sound of his climax. The feeling of his body moving and working against my own.

It was the closest thing to a homecoming I had ever felt.