Page 37 of Just Desserts in Pelican Point
“Never again. I promise.”
She doesn’t say anything for a second. Just rests her forehead against my chest, her hands flat on my ribcage like she’s grounding herself. Maybe she is. God knows I am.
I tilt her chin up gently. “Tell me what you need. Anything.”
Her eyes flick to mine—shining, stormy, impossibly open. “You.”
That one word shatters the last of my restraint and I kiss her.
Not like last night—slow, uncertain, exploratory. This kiss is messy and hungry and laced with everything we’ve been holding back. It’s her fingers dragging through my hair, my hands gripping her waist, both of us chasing the same storm.
She pulls me deeper into the house, our bodies tangled as we back toward the hallway while our heated kiss never wavers. We crash against the wall once, a collision that only deepens the intensity between us. Her laughter, sultry and breathy, fills my mouth as she yanks my shirt off, casting it aside with a teasing flourish.
“You’re still wearing too much,” she murmurs in a low, husky tone.
“Fix it,” I growl, the raw desire in my voice leaving little room for argument.
She complies, peeling away every barrier until nothing stands between us. We make it as far as the couch—barely. Her dress hits the floor with a whisper revealing the soft, inviting expanse of her skin in the dim light. I lift her effortlessly, and she instinctively wraps her firm, inviting legs around me like we’ve done this a hundred times and also like it’s the last time we’ll ever touch.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I rasp, my mouth trailing a searing path down her throat. I explore every inch with deliberate intent, my tongue dancing along her sensitive neck until I reach the supple curve of her breast. My teeth graze over delicate skin, sending jolts of pleasure through her, and then I suck her nipple into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue, my teeth grazing the tight peak leaving a slight, intoxicating mark—a physical memoir of our passion. She gasps, her head falling back, her hands tangling in my hair.
“You left a mark last night, too,” she breathes, her hand pressing reverently against the tender spot on her chest.
I kiss the spot gently, my lips brushing against her skin. “Let me do it right this time,” I vow, my fingers slipping down her body, tracing the curve of her waist, the dip of her navel. My hand sliding lower, my fingers brushing the lace of her panties. She’s wet, so wet, and the sight of it makes my breath catch.
I hook my finger into the waistband, pulling them down her legs slowly, deliberately. She lifts her hips, helping me, her eyes never leaving mine. I toss them aside, my gaze devouring her, my mouth watering at the sight of her bare core, glistening and pink.
“Fuck,” I groan, my fingers tracing her folds, teasing her clit. She moans, her head falling back, her body arching into my touch.
“Marcus,” she pleads, her voice desperate. “I need you. Now.”
I don’t make her wait. I grip her hips, pulling her closer, my cock pressing against her entrance I thrust into her in one slow, deliberate motion, filling her completely. Her breath hitches, her eyes widening as she takes me in.
She gasps, her hands gripping my shoulders. “You feel so good.”
I groan, my head falling back as I savor the tightness of her, the heat of her body surrounding me. I stay still for moment, giving us both a chance to adjust, to feel every inch of our connection.
Then Julie whispers my name, her voice a soft plea. “Marcus.”
That is all it takes. I begin to move slow and deep, my hips rolling into hers. She meets my thrusts, her body moving with mine, her moans filling the room. The couch creaks beneath us, the springs protesting under our weight, but neither of us cares. It is all rhythm, heat, and need, the overwhelming feeling that this – this – is more than just sex.
“I missed you today,” she confesses, her lips grazing my ear. “Even though I was so fucking mad at you… I still missed you.”
I groan, my lips pressing kisses along her collarbone. “I missed you, too. I was such a fucking idiot.”
“You still are,” she says, her fingers digging into my shoulders. “Don’t do it again.”
“I promise… I won’t,” I choke out, my pace quickening as her hips rise to meet mine. “I’m here for good.”
She tightens her legs around me, her breath hitching on a sharp cry. “Marcus—oh my god—don’t stop?—”
“Never,” I vow, my voice hoarse.
Her orgasm hits first, shattering waves that ripple through her, each pulse a vivid declaration of pleasure. She cries out, her body shaking her walls clenching around me.
“Julie,” I rasp, my voice breaking. “I’m –“
I don’t finish the sentence. My orgasm tears through me, a white-hot explosion that leaves me breathless. I spill into her, my forehead pressing to hers, my heart pounding in my chest.
