Marcy had to wonder, how soon before he could do it again?
A deep masculine chuckle resonated right through her body. "How do you feel?"
She took stock. "Lazy… invigorated… sated." She shook her head. "That was all I imagined it might be and much more. I'm blown away. How long did I er…." She paused and considered. How long did I what? Sleep? Pass out? Fall into a sexually induced coma? Smiling she said, "How long did I sleep?"
He shrugged. "Maybe thirty minutes."
Mike absently stroked under the curve of her breasts, placing his hands and fingers wherever he felt like it. It put her in mind of how André had been carelessly fondling Jennifer's breasts and nipples while talking to her. That casual touch had been extraordinarily erotic. André had treated Jennifer's body as his possession.
Something there solely for his own pleasure.
Mike was doing the same thing.
The awareness of that made her pussy clench. Alert to her response, Mike gave her a knowing smile full of promise. There was possession, pleasure and heat in those eyes. Marcy shivered. How could she feel completely boneless – yet buzzed at the same time? But she was.
Talk about sexual chemistry! Together they could open a drugstore.
"You respond to me, Marcy," he said, rolling one taut nipple with thumb and index finger. "That's because you're mine." He looked down at her swollen breasts. "See? You're aroused already, with my touch. That's good because I haven't finished with you." He raised a wry eyebrow. "But then again, I won’t ever be finished with you."
Marcy surprised herself when happy laughter bubbled out of her. It was so spontaneous.
He pulled on her nipple, giving it a pinch. It created a slight bite of pain, except that it wasn't pain she felt. An electric zing of sensation went right between her legs, heating her core. Something low in her belly tightened.
"I've been laying here waiting for you to wake up." Mike's voice took on a determined edge, and his gaze became more intent. "I'm going to have you again, Marcy. Jesus woman, do you have any idea how difficult it's been for me to wait? It doesn't matter how much I jack off. I wake up with an erection, I sleep with an erection, and I've been walking around all day hard as stone. For you, sweetheart. Only for you. Nothing else can ease my desire. I need you that badly."
Marcy's mind had been silent in the aftereffects of that extreme orgasm. Now that silence seemed even more intense.
Everything in her head went quiet.
Mike's need for her was profound. It was a revelation. His hunger and desperate greed was in his hands and in his kiss as they made love. She saw it now, too. But this was more than lust.
Without thought, she raised her hand, and brushed it along the tight abs and coarse hair of his chest and stomach. His body was tense, every part of him coiled and ready. Looking down she saw his throbbing shaft, straining with desire. With need. For her.
It was the first time she truly understood the power she had as a woman.
"Oh," she said lamely.
"I'm going to do all the things I've wanted to do to you for weeks." His eyes were black heated embers of coal as he captured her gaze. "You feel it don't you? That you belong to me?"
"Yes, Mike. I'm yours," she said simply.
She had known it in her mind for some time, but now she knew it in the flesh. Her stomach clenched and fluttered. His body had invaded hers, and her body had utterly accepted him.
You're mine, Mike had said, and she felt it deeply, right to her soul.
Marcy needed to give herself to him completely.
That smug certainty was back in his eyes. The knowledge that they both were aware of, his power of her. "You won't stop me, not for anything I want to do," he said. It was a statement, not a question.
Marcy gasped at this erotic threat and her pulse elevated further. Her body responded too, her pussy tightening, throbbing and aching. How could she want to have sex again? When she was still dizzy in the languorous aftermath of the most amazing orgasm of her life?
"Do you still trust me?" he asked softly, his voice loaded with pleasure and sensual menace.
"You know that I do."
"Good." His eyes flashed with lust as he stared at her. Marcy quivering, noticed a muscle twitch in his cheek. "You'll do as I say. It's my turn to get what I need. And what I need right now is to taste you," he said, and sat up, moving to position himself between her thighs.
"Mike," she gasped. Her mind filled with scattered thoughts and protest. Not oral sex. It's just wrong. I don’t want that, not even after a shower…maybe he'll let me go down on him instead? Her reaction was to pull her legs together so she did.
"No," Mike growled, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
A thrill of fear ran through her. Was she in trouble? Because he looked pretty angry. Was he mad at her? Somewhere in the back of her mind she recalled André and his punishment of Jennifer. But Mike wouldn’t get out a riding crop would he? Did he have a temper?
Somehow she figured that she was about to find out.
Instantly Mike put his big hands on each of her thighs. "You keep those legs spread wide," he bit out, his expression serious. "Look how dripping wet you are down here!"
Surprise lit his face as his eyes shot to hers, pupils flaring. "I want to taste that sweet pussy, and I have an idea that you want me to do just that. Am I right?" He firmly pushed her thighs further apart, holding her open. Marcy couldn't help be aware of his powerful male strength.
No! No! her mind protested.
"Do you want me to lick your pussy, Marcy?" he asked again.
The memory of past events with Trent and his snide ridicule of her lovemaking rushed in upon her. There must be something wrong with her. She was disgusting. Mike would try to hide it but he would hate going down on her. Marcy's face heated in a blush of shame.
In one shockingly fast move, Mike's big hand slapped her hard between her legs, once, twice. Crack. Crack.
Marcy cried out, breathless, tense and mentally blank. The burning pain in her clit stunned her into stillness. All ability to concentrate went right out the window. Her poor abused pussy throbbed. Who was this guy? Sweet, kind, considerate Mike had turned all dominant alpha male on her.
Hard eyes met hers with firm lips and a no-nonsense demand.
She wouldn’t stop him – they both knew that. Mike fully intended to take exactly what he wanted. A roll of lust spiraled through her with that thought. Her pussy contracted and gushed. Her tension loosened. By God she was such a wanton. She wanted him to take her. To do whatever he wanted. She wanted to submit to him completely.
With her chin up, she said, "Okay."
"Good girl. I want my tongue, my lips and my mouth buried between your legs. You know that I'm not going to hurt you."
Marcy bit her lower lip. "Those slaps really hurt."
"Did they?" he asked quizzically, a knowing mocking smile tugged at his lips. "Are you sure about that?"
47. Mine
Marcy frowned and considered the matter. What she felt right now between her legs where he had slapped her was far removed from pain.
In fact it was a throbbing pleasure.
The memory of what André had said about pain came into her mind. "Pain breaks down barriers and defenses. And for intensifying the orgasm? There are few superior devices a Dom has to achieve such, other than varying degrees of pain."
"Oh," Marcy breathed with surprise, becoming aware of the fire that he had started inside her, burning right through to her core. "No. I… it feels good."
His laugh had a dark seductive edge to it. "You bet your sweet ass it does." There was a dangerous intensity in his eyes. "I've got all your attention now, don't I, sweetheart? I'm not your douche bag ex, Marcy. You smell sweet, and I just know that you're going to taste sweet, too. Keep your eyes on mine and put those hands over your head," he ordered and she instantly complied.
He made a low hiss of lustful appreciation. "I love the look of your breasts when your arms ar
e above your head. They stand out nicely, they're so damn pretty. Pink and swollen, and those nipples are hard again for me. Fuck you are the hottest woman in the world. And you're all mine."
With a sudden frown, Mike stared between her legs. He ran a finger along her entrance, and with a muttered curse suddenly shot to his feet.
"Don't you dare move," he said, pinning her with a determined gaze. Dominant male energy filled the room. Her knees were bent, her legs wide apart, her sex exposed. Was she planning on moving? Hell no.
When he seemed certain that she would obey him, he strode around to the head of the bed. His engorged cock bobbed and swung as he walked.
"You are not going to be inhibited with me, Marcy," he snapped with a determined edge in his voice. "Do you know why?" he asked in a deceptively mild voice. "Because you want it. You don’t fool me. You want my tongue on your pussy, don't you?"
Confused and embarrassed, Marcy frowned. She felt so open and vulnerable. This was the intimacy she had sought, that closeness and honesty with another. So why was it so devastating? And why was she feeling guilty, embarrassed and ashamed?
"Well? Don’t you?" he said. "Answer the question, Marcy. Do you want me to lick your pussy, suck your clit and eat you out?"
A pressure was building inside her head, and inexplicable panic filled her. "I don’t know, Mike. I don't think I do. Why are you asking me?"
"Because I think you're lying," he said in a soft even voice. "First to yourself and then to me."
Recoiling in sudden anger, she pulled back from him, lowering her arms. "I'm not lying!"
"Arms." His tone was mild but there was a bite to it. Marcy remembered the two resounding pussy slaps and did as he asked.
Mike took a deep breath, and his brows pulled together. He sat down beside her and took one of her hands in his. With the other he caressed a breast, again with careless, possessive ease. She exhaled audibly, in a whoosh of air.
"You're a mystery, sweetheart. Inexperienced with orgasms, yes – but everything seems to arouse you. I've been noticing that for awhile. One kiss and you're on fire. You know what I saw? I told you that I was going to go down on you and instantly there was a damn faucet between your legs."
He shook his head. "Your pulse is up, your skin is flushed and you keep licking your lips. Your body really wants it, Marcy, so I'm thinking that so do you. In fact I'm thinking that inside the woman I love is a shameless slut. Do you even know that about yourself? Do you actually love sex? Are you ashamed of who you are?"
Mike studied her intently, waiting while this objective insight to her personality penetrated Marcy's brain.
She remembered masturbating and that little voice telling her, "This is wrong," and "You are a bad girl." It had surprised her. Where had it come from? Had she decided all sex was bad when she went out and got drunk and lost her virginity as a teenager?
It seemed that sex had been equated with sin in her mind. Marcy grew up not even touching herself.
Had she spent her life avoiding sex because of fear, shame and guilt?
She had an inexplicable urge to laugh. Poor Trent, she had been a lousy lay. But he got what he deserved. If they had actually communicated he could have helped her through her sexual inhibitions. Then they would have both enjoyed sex.
But Trent never let anyone in. And Trent never had any desire to sincerely know her. Honest connection and intimacy was out. Trent had intentionally kept her introverted and inhibited. He loved finding her doubts and insecurities and exploiting them.
Sex just happened to be one of those insecure areas.
Her mind went back to that movie, American Beauty. "Never underestimate the power of denial," was the famous quote in it. Mainly because if you are in denial you can't see the truth – even when it is sitting right in front of you.
Mike had seen right through her.
The image of him with his head between her legs came into her mind. Holding her thighs apart with his hands, the raw strength of him burning against her skin. She imagined the feel of his tongue, his warm breath on her clit. Just the thought of it tightened her body in a pre-orgasmic pulse.
Marcy shut her eyes and almost moaned.
All her life she had hidden from sex, fearing the instinctive hyper-sexual creature inside. Now her barriers were down – even the ones she had erected to hide from herself. It was a revelation.
Exhilarated, she explained to Mike everything that she had realized.
Those early childhood decisions could really fuck a person up. Especially when she hadn't been conscious of them. What would she have done if she had never met Mike? She would have never known the joy of completion, or the natural pleasures that two people could give to each other.
Incredibly happy, Marcy met his gaze. She was naked before him in every way. The connection and love she felt for him overwhelmed her. Could he see into her soul? Because she felt as if she could see into his.
He squeezed her hand and his lips pressed against hers. Marcy fell into his kiss, hungry for his touch, his possession, his love. When he pulled back the understanding in his eyes warmed her.
Mike's voice was low and silky. "Tell me the truth now, sweetheart," he said. "Do you want me to lick your pussy until you come? Does that idea turn you on?"
Marcy inhaled in a deep breath. "God, yes," she said.
"Tell me exactly what you want," he ordered, his eyes darkening with lust. "The words, honey. Ask nicely."
Marcy's face heated. He was playing that dominance game again with her again, and for the love of God it was pretty damn hot. He was making her tell him, making her ask for what she needed. She moistened her lips, not from nerves, but because she craved his hands, his lips, his body.
"I want you to lick my pussy, please, Mike. I want you to go down on me until I come." She lifted her chin, suddenly incredibly proud of herself. Of her bravery in telling him the truth and exposing herself completely to him. "Will you do that for me, please?"
Throwing his head back, Mike laughed. It was a joyous, happy sound, as familiar to her now as her own voice. Leave it to Mike to make sex, a serious subject for so many years, lighthearted fun. Could any man be more right for her? Marcy couldn't imagine it.
"Marcy my own true love," Mike said. "I'll be overjoyed to do that for you. You're going to give me everything and I'm going to take it all. You're mine gorgeous, so get used to it. Going down on you is the least of what I plan to do," he said, in a seductive erotic threat.
Sitting on the bed beside her, he cupped her breasts, casually tugging on her nipples. Marcy gasped with the pleasure of it. "You're going to masturbate in front of me. You're going to let me fuck you whenever I'm in the mood. If I want to fuck you with a vibrator and make you climax all day long, that's exactly what I'll do. And you know what? You won't just let me. You're going to beg me. Beg for release. Beg me to do exactly what I want."
His husky, commanding voice sent waves of heat dancing across her skin. She couldn't ever remember being this wet.
"You're going to crave everything I can give you. Because that's who you really are."
Marcy shut her eyes for a moment because the vision of all that he said made her feel faint. Her mind spun.
"Do you understand?" he finished, holding her chin tight in his hand, his gaze locked in hers.
By God she longed for his possession – she did, and that thought frightened her, shocked her, thrilled her and made her horny as hell. Did she understand?
Swallowing, Marcy opened her eyes and whispered, "I… Jesus, Mike. I do understand. I do. I want all that, too. Everything. Show me. Teach me. I'm yours."
His instant heart-stopping smile was beautiful. Mike's mouth came down on hers hard, as he took what he wanted - no - what he needed from her. The lust and desire in his eyes softened as he pulled back from her, cupping her face with gentle fingers. What did she see in those dark eyes now?
It could only be love.
Mike loved her. He had told her many times. He
had shown her, too. Yet this was another physical demonstration. Marcy had experienced sex, but Mike wasn't having sex. He was making love.
"I'm the luckiest man in the world, Marcy. But my cock is aching. Look how much I want you. I went hard as stone at the thought of going down on you."
Marcy's breath hitched. Mike's silky erection stood up tall, pointing skyward. It was wet with pre-cum.
"Suck it," he said and pushed himself down to meet her mouth.
Marcy propped herself up on one elbow and took him inside her with a humm of pleasure. She licked and suckled him, letting him know how important he was, how much he meant to her. That salty male musk of his tasted remarkable. She adored how he smelled and how he tasted. Was it so difficult to imagine him enjoying her too?
"Fuck, yes," he rasped. "That's perfect. Your beautiful mouth eased the ache." He pulled out and gave her one of those amazing mind-numbing kisses again.
Gathering up three pillows, he put them under her back so she was in a reclining position. That easy lighthearted charm of his showed for a moment in his cheeky grin.
"I want you to watch what I'm doing. You're going to see just how much fun I'm having when I eat you out. Then I'm going to watch you come with my mouth on your pretty pussy." He smirked. "I swear to you sweetheart, you're going to be screaming when you do."
Marcy's flesh tingled and her skin went cold then burning hot. She had no concept of shame or shyness now. In fact she ached to have his mouth there, to soothe her, to relieve that throbbing ache. This newfound awareness of her inherent sexual self made her feel feminine, sexy and desirable.
Mike returned to his position, his big warm hands holding her thighs apart just as he wanted. His eyes scanned her body and he exhaled a harsh breath. The warmth of it caressed her skin. Marcy shuddered as lust poured from him. With a satisfied nod, he lowered his head.
True to his word, in a very short time Marcy's whole body bowed as she climaxed. Then she threw back her head, screaming his name.