Page 47 of The Sentinel

I trembled, thighs threatening to close, but he just pushed them wider, pinning me against the wall with nothing but his mouth and the slow, relentless pace of his tongue.

“Marcus,” I moaned, trying to grind against him, trying to get more.

His grip tightened. “I said, my rules.”

Then he sucked my clit into his mouth, hard, and my vision whited out.

Pleasure slammed into me, my body shaking, every muscle pulling tight as he drove me toward the edge. He didn’t let up, didn’t slow—just kept eating me like he couldn’t get enough, like he wanted to break me completely.

And then, just as I was about to shatter, he did something unexpected.

He dragged his teeth over me.

Not enough to hurt—just enough to make me snap.

A strangled cry ripped from my throat as I came, pleasure crashing through me so hard I almost collapsed. Marcus caught me, hands strong, steady, guiding me through it.

By the time he pulled away, I was shaking. He looked wrecked—his mouth slick, his pupils blown, his breathing uneven.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning like a fucking devil.

“Still want to argue with me?” he murmured, voice deep and wrecked.

I didn’t hesitate. I dropped to my knees in front of him, fingers already working at his belt.

His smirk faltered.

“Claire—”

I looked up at him through my lashes, slow and teasing as I pulled his zipper down. “My turn, Dane.”

His breath caught, hands flexing at his sides.

I tightened my fingers around him, stroking once, slow and firm. “And I don’t play by your rules.”

And then I took him into my mouth.

This time, I was the one making him lose control.

I kept my grip light, my fingers wrapping around the base of his cock, my tongue flicking over the head just to taste him. He was hot, thick, pulsing against my palm, his whole body vibrating with restraint. I could feel it—the way he was barely holding himself together, the way his muscles tensed.

I met his gaze as I slid my tongue along the underside of his cock, slow and deliberate. His jaw was clenched so tight it looked like it might crack.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice rough, wrecked. His hands flexed in my hair, like he wanted to guide me, but he was fighting it—letting me do this my way.

Good.

Because I planned to take my time.

I sucked him in, hollowing my cheeks, taking him deeper, letting my nails trail lightly along his thighs as I set a slow rhythm. I could hear his breath quicken, feel the way his body coiled, could taste the salt of his skin as I worked him over, inch by inch.

Marcus let out a ragged groan, his fingers tightening in my hair. “Claire.” My name sounded delicious on his lips.

I hummed around him, just like I had below Dominion Hall, sending a shiver through his whole body. Then I pulled back, lips slick, breath warm as I dragged my mouth along his length, teasing him with just the edge of my tongue. “Something wrong, Dane?” I murmured, stroking him, slow and firm.

He growled, dark and dangerous. “You’re playing with fire.”

I smirked. “And?”

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