Page 47 of Our Broken Pieces
“Promises, promises.”
He tilts my head and brings my mouth back to his. His tongue swipes my bottom lip, and I open at the request. His tongue slides against mine in slow, languid strokes, like he’s fucking my mouth. I’m about to lose my ever loving mind as I feel my heartbeat in my clit. I surrender and let him devour me.
Moments later, the intensity wanes, he starts dropping short, sweeter kisses on my lips until finally, his lips leave mine. I can barely open my eyes.
“Never doubt my capabilities, Gigi.” He slips his hand from my hair and backs away. The loss of his warmth makes me whimper. “And be careful what you wish for, because just now? I was gentle. And if this happens again, I can’t promise that would be the case.”
He turns and walks upstairs, leaving me confused and panting like a dog. I grip the counter to steady myself and wonder what the fuck he meant with those words.
Chapter Thirty-One
Marcus
Iwalk into my room, closing the door. I’m so hard it’s painful. The way Gigi felt against me, the sounds that came from her, the way that kiss felt, almost sent me over the edge. I move to the bathroom, turning the shower on, stripping down. I step under the water and my hand immediately starts stroking my dick. Fuck, I need to come.
Right now, I feel completely out of control, and it’s tearing me apart. I’m supposed to be the one who stays calm, who holds back when I know better. But all of that vanished the second her lips touched mine. She’s the one that I want, but I know I can’t have. That should have been enough to stop me, yet I still gave in. The frustration has me hate fucking my own dick with my hand.
I feel my muscles tense, feeling my orgasm rising as I think about how she felt in my hands. How she became soft under my touch. How she let me drive the contact. Such a change from her words and her usual tough girl act. Almost as if she was submitting to the moment, to me. That’s dangerous for me. It’s what I thrive off of.
My hand slams against the wall in front of me as I come. My eyes squeeze shut and my knees almost give out as the evidence of my want for her slides down the wall of the shower. I stand, still slowly moving my hand along my shaft as I struggle with my own sanity.
After the shower, I sat at my desk for a couple hours clearing out my inbox, using my tablet because I couldn’t bring myself to leave my room to get my laptop, too afraid to see Gigi. I lay my tablet down, agitated with myself as I sit here. I don’t want her to think what happened was anything to be ashamed of, but I’m trying to work out in my mind what this could mean between us. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe she really thought we were simply practicing our act. That it wasn’t real for her. Maybe it wasn’t anything beyond a kiss for her.
I look at my clock and it’s almost eleven. Hopefully she’s gone to bed and I can safely grab some water. Pajama pants already on, I grab a t-shirt and put it on before slowly opening my door. From my landing, I only see the light from above the stove in the kitchen. I roll my eyes at my own childish behavior, sneaking around my own house.
I lightly tread down the stairs and walk toward the kitchen. That’s when I see her sitting at the island, a pint of ice cream infront of her and her Kindle in hand. As I get closer to the fridge, she looks up and smiles at me. That smile makes me relax. Maybe we didn’t fuck everything up.
“Hey, prince. Thought you would be asleep by now.”
“Not yet. Just got done with emails, wanted some water.”
I pour myself a glass and stand facing the fridge.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier,” she says quietly.
I pause, setting my glass down on the counter. Turning to her, I say, “Not uncomfortable at all. I’m just worried I crossed a line.”
She shakes her head, lips tight. “It didn’t feel like you crossed a line, prince.”
I let out a rough breath. “It didn’t for me, either, and that’s what worries me.”
Her head tilts as she stabs her spoon into the ice cream. “Why does that worry you?”
I brace myself on the counter. “Because it’s you. Because of our situation. Because I’m not like other men when it comes to the physical aspect of relationships.”
She rises from her chair to stand beside me, running her hand up and down my forearm. I’m sure she thinks she’s trying to comfort me, but her touch does the exact opposite.
“Maybe it’s good you’re not like other men.”
“G, this conversation shouldn’t even be happening between us.”
Her hand stops on my arm. “Tell me why you think you’re not like other men.”
I turn my head to look in her eyes. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about that.”
Her eyes search mine. I can see her brain working, trying to figure me out. “Well, when you are, I’m all ears.”
“I’ll remember that.”
