Marcy's passion doubled. Her body and his pressed together, as they rocked, swayed and frantically pulled at each other's flesh. Hands grasping and squeezing, teeth biting, tongue teasing. The music from Mike's Ipod shuffled to Springsteen, but neither of them noticed.
Mike lifted her up, picked her up and swung her into the air. Marcy's back and shoulder met the cool painted plasterboard of the hall wall. His broad chest and shoulders pressed against her, caging her in place. Her breasts tingled, her nipples hardened into tight peaks.
He was rigidly erect, straining against his jeans. When his hard male flesh pressed against her heated core they gasped at the contact. The fire of it exploded – burst through them both. She wrapped her arms around his neck and mindlessly chewed on his shoulder.
"Jesus, Marcy, I need to be inside you," Mike panted, his eyes glittering with raw animal urgency. When he stepped back, Marcy made an inarticulate sound of protest from the loss of his body and his heat.
Mike dragged her dress up and off.
Her bra followed and his head dropped to her neck, fell into the curve of her neck to suck and bite. Chest heaving, his hands caressed her breasts, tracing the curve of them, and cupping, holding their weight in his palms. Plucking and pinching, he tormented her nipples, giving them each a sharp sexy twist.
It was pleasure – it was pain.
His head lowered. When his tongue lashed, and his mouth sucked her swollen nipples, Marcy cried out. Her entire body tightened and coiled, convulsing in response.
"Oh, yes! Yes! Please, more," she begged shamelessly, helpless and lost to her lust.
"I want you so much," he growled, running his fingers along the edges of her panties. He stroked her over that thin cloth, and her body hummed with desire. The feel of the tips of his fingers over the material was glorious. She was wearing cheap, practical cotton-tail underwear. Remembering that, suddenly made her giggle.
"What?" he asked.
"Just thinking of my underwear," she said, distracted for an instant. "They are soooo not sexy."
Mike slid his fingers under them, lifting the edges to pull and twist against her tender flesh. Teasing her quivering clit. Marcy inhaled a gulp of air and nuzzled her face along his neck and jaw. Her fingers bit into his shoulders. The sound that came out of her was unrecognizable, somewhere between a moan and a sob.
"I think they're incredibly sexy," Mike said huskily, "and they're soaked. You're so fucking wet for me, honey." He moved her panties back and forth, stimulating her sensitive tissues and her folds. It ratcheted her pulse and her desire.
Oh God, that underwear of hers seemed plenty hot to her now. He was driving her crazy.
"Mike!" she shrieked.
"Shush, shush," he rasped in a low, seductive tone. "I'll take care of you."
He slipped his hand inside her underwear, cupping her mound, and delicately teasing her needy folds. One finger moved around her entrance, his thumb gently flicking and circling her clit.
Marcy trembled, aching and throbbing with pleasure. She would have sagged and even fallen to the floor if he wasn't holding her up, her knees were so weak. How did he do it? How did he maintain his control? She was faint and dizzy with mind-numbing arousal.
"Look at me, Marcy," he said, in a sharp command.
Marcy's eyes flew to his face. His chest inhaled deeply, in and out. Jaw tight, his nostrils flared and his eyes were heavy-lidded. Her lips curved up in a smile, because Mike wasn't in as much control as she thought. That familiar intimacy she had with him tugged at her.
His face was implacable. His lips firm. "Tell me what you want," he ordered roughly.
Marcy laughed with joy and perhaps a bit of sexual hysteria. Mike was playing that game again, making her ask. Making her beg. It was because of her sexual inexperience. Mike wanted to be sure that he wasn't doing anything without her consent. He needed her to feel safe with him.
His care and concern only made her love him more.
She cupped her hands along his cheeks. "I love you, Mike Thompson," she said, just then more certain of that than she was certain of her own name. "And I would like you to make love to me, right here against this wall. Right now. I can’t wait until we get to a bed. I need you inside me."
"What a great idea," he shot back, his face brightening with a grin as he unzipped and lowered his jeans. He pulled a condom out of one pocket and then kicked the jeans away. He was all muscle, all male. Marcy watched, entranced, as he covered his throbbing thick shaft with a condom.
Mike pulled her panties down past her butt. Loose as they were, they fell to the floor. The heady scent of him was intoxicating. Running his hands up her thighs, he cupped her buttocks and lifted her up. Her thighs rubbed up against his narrow hips as she wrapped her legs around him.
Mike guided his cock over her tender folds, stroking, teasing, and making her squirm with sensation. He gave a dark chuckle over her sounds of greed and need. That hot silky cock of his was a sensual torment.
"Please, Mike, please, please, please," she was surprised to find herself chanting. Her eyes shut as all her focus was there, between her legs. She needed him within her. His fingers spread her folds, and he continued to rub himself around her opening, teasing her.
Marcy moaned. Now? Would he fuck her now? Her whole body trembled. Oh, please!
"Look at me as I fuck you," he said with an authoritative bite in his tone. When she met his gaze, he pushed inside, impaling her, slamming her against the wall with a primitive male grunt.
"Ahhhh," she screamed out, her eyes wide.
The relief that flooded through her as he filled her was indescribable. The muscles of her stomach, pelvis and buttocks contracted upon his thickness. She wanted to thank God.
The expression on Mike's face as he entered her was all fierce, in charge alpha male. Marcy scratched his shoulders and bucked, overwhelmed by sensation. She heard herself whimpering. She heard herself sobbing.
It sounded like a movie, or someone else.
The incredible elemental joy of their coupling brought tears to her eyes. Mike felt so incredibly good. So right. So perfect. The fullness of him, stretching her, thick inside her.
Never had she been so hyperaware of being a woman.
Of being needed, wanted and… loved.
Balls deep, Mike held her pinned against the wall. "Are you okay?" he asked with concern, touching one errant tear as it trailed down her cheek. "Did I hurt you?"
Unable to speak from the overwhelming emotions that filled her, she shook her head. Mike kissed her, a gentle, sensuous press of his lips. "Why are you crying?" he breathed against her neck.
"I'm happy."
He frowned at her, testing the truth of her statement. Marcy had to smile. "It's true," she said. "I'm really happy. But I hope we aren't going to talk, because right now I really need to be fucked, Mike."
He gave her a wicked, somewhat dangerous grin. "Oh, Marcy," he purred. "That's just perfect because I really, really need to fuck you."
Gripping her buttocks, he withdrew out to the tip. Then he drove inside, out, in, out, in, moving in a jerking, thrusting rhythm, pounding up into her. His head dipped and he plundered her mouth, thrusting his tongue exactly as he thrust his cock – using both to drive her arousal to greater heights.
Greedy, hungry, Mike devoured her, ruthlessly consumed her – forcefully taking what he needed. What his powerful male body craved.
He held her firmly by one buttock and used the other hand to palm a breast to caress, tease and pinch a nipple. He rocked his hips and pelvis against her, shifting to touch the most erotic spots.
"God, yes, yes, please, Mike!" she pleaded.
Desperate, frantic - they fucked like it was the last day of their life, or as if it was the end of the world. The house could have been on fire and neither of them would have noticed. Body heat and mutual desire combined into a powerful conflagration of its own.
Marcy was captured. Pinned against the wall, she yielded completely.
Firm and hard, Mike pushed inside her, pumping in and out. His scent, his raw need, his strength, and his all-encompassing desire besieged her consciousness.
The pure maleness of him filled her senses.
The hard male thickness of him filled her body.
His hands angled lower, to cup her ass, working toward deeper penetration. When he slammed particularly far inside her, they both groaned.
"Yes," she gasped. "So good! So hard! Don't stop!"
He began to thrust faster and Marcy hung on tight. His lips were firm, his tongue was hot, his hands clawing, gripping. They had to be closer. Marcy never knew how alone she had been. How empty. She needed Mike inside her, completing her, filling that aching void. Marcy's legs tightened against him, her heels on his ass, her arms pulling him in.
Mike took her, used her, moving relentlessly toward his own release. His eyes glittering with sexual hunger - locked with hers.
Marcy felt her power over him. Mike using her. Mike needing and wanting her did it. Giving him pleasure was such a turn-on.
Pleasing Mike, knowing that she was the woman he craved was what tipped her over the edge.
Her orgasm caught her off guard. Marcy's entire body tightened from a heavy jolt of lust that speared right to her core. A pre-orgasmic pulse emptied her mind – her internal walls gripped his shaft hard. Then she spun out of control, convulsing in waves. Coming, coming, coming.
Each final short, fast thrust Mike gave her was punctuated by primitive male grunts.
The erotic sound of them only added to Marcy's pleasure. Mike climaxed then, too, breathing out her name in long guttural groan.
They were both winded from their efforts, panting heavily, their hearts pounding. Marcy reeled, trembling and limp with aftershocks. Mike held her, soothing and murmuring soft sounds of adoration and appreciation. He kissed and stroked as they each caught their breath.
He held her against the wall. Marcy unhooked her legs from behind his back. She lowered one, then the other to the floor. Mike rested his forehead, damp with sweat, against hers.
As they came back to themselves.
As they returned to earth from their shattering orgasms.
Marcy looked up and met his eyes.
Gently sweeping a sweaty strand of hair away from her face, Mike gazed at her with love and adoration. His dark eyes were a reflection of her own, because she felt the same way. They were separate people, yet she knew him. In a lifetime they would know each other better, yet what she knew now was more than enough.
It was profound.
They stared at each other, smiling. Marcy wanted to tell him her thoughts. Wanted to let him know how close she felt to him, and how important he had become to her.
"I love you," they both said to each other at exactly the same moment.
Marcy's eyes widened in surprise, and his did, too. Amusement flashed across his expression. That intense moment of connection dissolved into something ridiculous. They both burst out laughing.
Mike swung her up into his arms, strode to his bedroom and tossed her onto his bed. He jumped in with her and they laughed and laughed and laughed until their tears ran from their eyes and their stomachs were sore.
Afterwards neither of them could figure out just what exactly was so damn funny.
51. A Day in Bed
"Are you sure that you don't want to go out?" Mike asked her.
Propped up on one elbow in his king-sized bed, his hand ran along her body, lazily caressing her now familiar contours. Marcy enjoyed this casual intimacy of his. Last night he had explored every part of her. She wanted him to do it all again.
"I had a romantic dinner, music and dancing planned," he said.
"I'm sure," she said, stark naked, propped on one elbow, mirroring his position. "This has been the best day of my whole life, I swear. I want to stay right here."
In bed with you forever.
Marcy was happy just to watch him, to cuddle, to touch – and to fuck like a rabbit. She was insatiable. How did she get here? It seemed that she had a ton of sexual energy stored up that she had been completely unaware of. Man, she had only experienced vanilla sex so far – but in the horny over-sexed state that she was in, Marcy wanted to try it all.
She felt so comfortable being naked in front of him.
Mike looked at her with lust, appreciation and desire. He made her feel beautiful and totally uninhibited. For a moment she recalled André kissing Jennifer Whittington's physical flaws and scars.
Mike was like that. He treated her body with reverence, worshipping every part of her. He acted as if she was a gift, like she was the best thing in his world.
They had ordered a pizza and ate it in bed, she with red wine, and he with beer. They had made love a number of times in a number of different ways, including a bit of shower sex. She didn't always climax at the perfect time, or at all, but she was certainly getting better at it.
Sex, it turned out, was easy! It was exciting and enjoyable with the right person. Not to mention that the glorious, euphoric sensations during climax were fan-fucking-tastic. Having finally discovered sex, Marcy was addicted. She couldn’t get enough, wanton woman that she was.
Mike was the ultimate lover. She liked the sound of that."Lover." They had made love: caressing, soothing - slow, and sweet and tender. They had also fucked each other: biting and scratching like rabid animals - fast and furious and desperate.
Marcy had learned Mike's body intimately, just as he had gotten to know hers.
Making love was natural. It was beautiful. Marcy grinned wickedly. It was also a hell of a lot of good, clean fun (or naughty, dirty fun as the case may be.)
They cuddled and kissed and discussed everything. Katie was a key topic, mainly because they both were naturally focused on her future happiness. Mike cared for Katie as much as he cared for Marcy. Was there any man out there that could even come close to his perfection? Marcy didn’t think so.
Mike thought that they should change Katie's school to something nearby, so that Katie had local friends to play with. There were better schools in his ritzy neighborhood, too. Not that Katie would give a damn about that.
Marcy had to agree. Ordinarily, she would have resisted a move. It was such a bummer for a kid. Changing schools was one of life's biggest trials. Meeting all new children was super scary. Yet it was almost December, the start of school holidays and a good time to change.
Besides, Katie's best friend Samantha was leaving her school then, too.
They chatted about what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives. Marcy wanted to finish her degree, learn how to cook Thai food, and travel. Mike talked about his business, and how if he taught her security systems they could work together. He also wanted to travel, and wondered if Katie would be able to learn French or Spanish at school. Maybe she would like to learn both?
Marcy's heart fluttered at his genuine interest in Katie. Mike adored her daughter, and Katie, in turn, loved him. Could it get any better?
Having children of their own was the only subject that they didn't discuss. Mike seemed to be avoiding the topic, and so Marcy did, too. It was all very well to say "It's best to be honest," but half the time people lied or avoided subjects because they didn’t want to hurt someone they loved.
What if Mike was incapable of having kids? How could she talk to him about that? Then again, he always used condoms. Safe sex was another topic they had yet to discuss.
Marcy put her hand on his shoulder, dipped down and slid her open mouth against Mike's lips. "I think we should go again," she said, looking down at his beautiful cock. It was already half mast. Her hand brushed along his chest and abs, trailing along to his waist. "What do you think?"
Mike laughed. In one quick movement he caught her by the wrist before her hand went lower. "I think I've created a monster," he snorted.
"Rrrraaahhh," she growled. "C'mon. We've both have been missing out for ages! This is just catch-up. Besides, I'm getting the hang of the whole orgas
m thing." She arched an eyebrow at him. "But," she paused for effect, "I do need more practice."
With effortless strength, he grabbed her and swung her on top of him. With a thigh on each side, Marcy straddled him. Her breath caught. How freaking strong was he? She licked dry lips. Her breasts suddenly felt full, her nipples hardened.
Goddamn that demonstration of his strength was really hot.
Mike rested his fingers upon her hips, in a gentle, yet firm grip. She laid her hands on his warm muscular chest to steady herself.
"So we are not getting out of this bed today?" Mike asked. An odd smile played about his mouth. She couldn’t tell what it meant.
"Nope."
"That means that when people ask how I proposed, I'll have to tell them that I was in bed with you at the time?"
"You're going to ask me to marry you?" she asked with a mischievous smirk. "Again?" she added with a giggle, because she expected it. He did that a lot.
"Yes, but this time I have a ring," he said. He reached over, and opened a drawer. His fingers pulled a small black box out. "Tell me that you'll marry me," Mike said, holding the box out to her. "Show everyone that we're committed to each other. Wear my ring."
Mike bought me an engagement ring?
Stunned, Marcy sat up straight and took the small black velvet box. She gasped when she opened it. It was a round brilliant cut diamond set in platinum, with ten perfectly matched diamonds, five on either side. Even in the low filtered light of Mike's bedroom, it shined and sparkled like stars in a desert night sky.
"Too much?" he asked.
He laid a hand over hers and squeezed. Marcy turned her head away from the luster of her engagement ring so that she could see his face. That odd smile was gone. Her usually self-assured and confident man looked uncertain. Nervous even.
"I bought it ages ago," he explained, speaking faster than usual. "But I can take it back. We can get you a different one. You know, so you pick the exact ring you want."
Emotions swelled in Marcy's chest, too vast to explain. Somehow she didn’t know what to say. Mike had bought this "ages ago." Really? How long had he known that he wanted her?