23. Bella

23

BELLA

M arcus is spread out on that chair, which looks sturdy enough to hold both of our weight and leave his leg immobile. My hands find his knees as I crawl between them. His eyes are dark with need, a desire so deep and predatory that I feel like prey.

He might know that this is, in part, a distraction from my personal life, the one waiting for me when I leave here, but I can't let that small bit of reality pierce the bubble I've formed here. Not yet. Not until I can think straight for long enough to figure it all out.

I run my hands up his thighs slowly, teasing as his big paw lifts to caress my jaw and the sensitive skin behind my ear, down my throat. Then, he's tugging at the flannel I borrowed to get out here quickly. A button falls from its place, letting the slight chill in the air breach the flannel’s protection.

His rough fingers trace my collarbones and the pale skin above my breasts. Not a man of many words, his contemplative gaze does a lot of the speaking for him. Marcus wants to pick me open, expose me in ways I'm not prepared for.

I want the same with him because I know there's parts of his past we haven't talked about.

Pulling open the fly of his pants, I palm his hardening length through his boxers. His gaze heats as I slowly stroke him. Slow can be just as much of a distraction as fast and hard, and we will certainly get there. Teasing, I pull him out and bring him close enough to my mouth that he can feel my hot breath before I retreat.

His tongue peeks out, swiping across his bottom lip as he watches me, hands in fists on his legs. I mimic his movement, poking my tongue out to flick across the tip of his cock. His nostrils flare, hands clench and relax. Those big fingers smooth out across his denim-clad thighs.

I smooth my tongue out to cup his head, drawing lazy circles around the bundle of nerves. It makes his breath come quicker. I smile up at Marcus, and beyond the heat and yearning I see in him, something more lies there. It wiggles into my heart faster than it should.

Distracting myself, I pull his head into my mouth and suck hard, earning a groan. Suckling, pressing lightly with my teeth, lashing with my tongue, I pump him into my mouth. His eyes fall to half-mast, but they don't disconnect with mine. He keeps me trapped there as I work him until his hands curl back into fists.

Then, I stop teasing and start playing in earnest, working him down my throat, shifting until I find the right angle to take every inch of him.

The rough moan Marcus lets loose has moisture gathering in my center. I want him, want this. Maybe more than I'm afraid of having it.

When my eyes close to give in to taking him completely, Marcus threads his meaty fingers through my hair. He doesn't take control, just squeezes a little and relaxes to let me know he's enjoying it.

I imagine he is liking this slow and teasing pace, even after the rush last night. Because when he got the chance to have me on his own, he took his time. A glutton, maybe? Selfish with my body? Getting just a taste of something he's already becoming addicted to?

Pulling back to suckle on his fat head again, I reset my thoughts. Focusing on his pleasure, not my mixed-up feelings, I swallow him down, pull back, and swallow. The slow but steady pace has his thighs shaking under my palms.

After a few minutes, Marcus's hips start to roll, thrusting lightly down my throat, setting a new pace. I relax and let him take over inch by inch.

"Fuck, Bella." He grinds the words out between his clenched teeth. "Fuck, you feel so good."

He sucks in a sharp breath when I hollow my cheeks around him, letting out the sweetest moan. God, my panties are so damp.

Marcus can only manage small thrusts without hurting himself, and I rub along his thighs to keep him from getting carried away. The more I relax, the more he can thrust me over his cock instead of the other way around. I hum in approval.

When a slew of soft swear words fall from his mouth, I extricate myself. He trembles, grip gentle in my hair, thumb sweeping down my jaw and over my wet, swollen lips. And I want that touch on the other set of wet, swollen lips instead.

Standing, I draw his hand to my jeans, and he takes the hint easily, undoing and yanking the material down around my knees. I work them the rest of the way off and step out of them, guiding his hand again between my thighs.

He's still shaking from the pleasure without the release, but he moves with confidence, stroking along my wet slit with a groan. I straddle his good leg, giving him the space to explore me, and bend down to brush a whisper of a kiss across his mouth.

"Make me come, and then I'll ride you until your eyes cross," I promise him.

Marcus takes my challenge with a smile, his middle finger splaying me open and circling against my entrance without penetrating until I'm riding his hand, chasing that sweet pressure. I clutch his shoulders.

I bite his bottom lip, which only makes him smile wider. Then, he sinks that one finger inside me, slow and deep, before he pulls back. My thighs shake with need. I want more and whine at him.

His chuckle has me dropping my mouth down to his prickly throat and biting him. Marcus moans and sinks two fingers inside me this time. "I can't wait to feel you around me. So tight. Wet. Perfect."

I grab ahold of his shaft, giving it a few cursory strokes. The way his hips lift makes me double down, and his moan vibrates against my chest. I love being able to get that kind of reaction from him. "I want you inside me."

He works his fingers faster, harder, deeper, tapping my swollen clit with each pump, and I arch my back into his touch.

Reaching between us, he unbuttons my flannel, letting a new wave of cold air brush my skin. The heat of his touch combats the chill, rubbing my bare thigh, flowing over my hip and my stomach. With my shirt pushed up over my bra, he tugs one cup down and leans in to take my nipple into his mouth.

Pleasure drives down to my engorged sex, and I'm so close. "More. Please. More. "

Marcus gives me another finger, reaching, rubbing a spot that makes everything quake.

"That. Yes. Right there. Don't stop." I pump on his cock.

Mouth sealed over my breasts, he presses with his teeth, drawing down to my nipple with a light bite. It knocks me off axis, my hips gyrating wildly against his palm. Marcus lets my nipple pop free, sucking and pulling and popping free, over and over until I crash, writhing and trying to hold on.

I can't let myself sink completely against him, aware of his injured leg. Pushing his hand away and recapturing his mouth, I lean up to straddle him.

"You are exquisite," he tells me, hands cupping my cheeks as I guide his cock against my entrance. Lowering myself onto him stretches me open with a slight sting that dissolves completely into a heady pleasure.

Who knew I could get this feeling from three men? Three of my dad's friends. And that all of it would be so good, regardless of the taboos.

When I have him seated to the hilt, I brush my fingers over his beard, trying to show him how important this is to me, how important he is to me, with my touch because I can't bring myself to say it yet. The look he gives me says that he can read my silence as someone well-versed in keeping his thoughts to himself.

I press my forehead to his as I ride him, hips churning and scraping him against every sensitive spot inside me.

His grip kneads my hips and ass, like he's soaking in the feel of me. Like he's going to miss it when we get dressed. I shake that thought away and grind down into him until he hisses. Holding onto Marcus's wide shoulders, I lift until he's ready to slip out and take my time lowering back down, drawing up to that brink and lowering down. The way he fills me and leaves me empty spirals through me in the most erotic way.

Hands smoothing up my bare skin, under the back of my borrowed flannel, Marcus grips my shoulders and holds me as my hips speed up. He keeps me steady as I drop over him with more gusto, that build up making me a bit more wild.

After a minute, Marcus is swinging me down over his cock, impaling me with the small upswing up his hips. The angle does me in, has me shaking and clamping down around him. My moans echo around us, paired with the squelching of our hips slapping together.

I twist my hands in his collar, breathing heavily and trying to hold off, to prolong the pleasure. He must know it, because he keeps up the tempo, the strength of his arms trapping me in the undulating cadence of our mutual thrusts. Momentum rocks me over him, slamming me down so hard the chair scrapes against the floor.

I start fluttering, losing control, lost to the bliss of an orgasm and the perfect fucking he's giving me.

Marcus groans under me as I cry out. He doesn't slow one bit. Instead, he wraps a hand in my hair and pulls me back, cold air swirling over my newly bared skin. His hot mouth covers most of my lone, exposed breast, running my nipple across the roof of his mouth with his tongue.

The pleasure surges. Our thrusts lose momentum, shorten, smack harder, shove him deeper. The angle helps him reach new places. Blood rushes so loud in my ears that I can only hear the roar of my pulse as my body gives in. Loose. Limp. At his mercy.

He pulls out my other breast and latches on, sending new quakes through me. My clit is so sensitive that every thrust sends sparks across my vision.

I promised to make his eyes roll back, but he is fucking mine into the back of my head. God, it's so much and so good. With his free hand rubbing my cold ass cheeks, he gives me a firm smack before he trails his fingertips over the round muscle to slide down my crack and tease my ass.

Part of me wonders if he's wishing another cock were here to help him fill me up. That same part of me wants that, too. But another part of me is glad to have this moment with just him, especially with the way he teases me like this.

Marcus slows, releasing my breast. After taking a few deep breaths, he pats my butt. "Off. Bend over the table."

I stand, trying not to wobble and grinning like an idiot at him. His matching grin makes me smolder inside.

"Not too far." He lifts and pivots the chair, and I'm glad he's not trying to stand.

I lean over the edge of the table, and Marcus traps me between his thighs, guiding me back over him. Once he's seated, he uses his thumb to spread my slick up to my ass and wiggles the tip into me. With both hands, he rocks me over his shaft until I'm bouncing in place, and we're both breathing hard.

"Yeah, sweetheart." His voice is raspy and rough. "Come for me again."

I give him exactly what he asks for.