Page 91 of Always Mine
“You don’t feel very cold,” he murmurs low and sexy, his soft lips against my hot skin as he plants open-mouthed kisses from one shoulder over to the other. He pulls me back into his front so he can support my body while he tugs my sleeves over my hands and pushes the fitted leather dress over my hips until it pools at my feet on the floor. Then he turns me in a tight circle until I’m facing him and helps me step over the dress, leaving me in just a black lacy thong and my leopard-print heels. “My brat doesn’t like bras,” he states as he looks his fill, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth before pulling me into his chest. “The shoes stay on,” he commands, his eyes glimmering with heat and emotion as he strokes along my cheekbone with the backs of his knuckles, trailing them downover my throat, pausing for a moment to add a little pressure as I swallow. “I can’t wait to wrap my hand around this pretty throat when you’re full of me,” he coos.
I close my eyes, giving into the overwhelming need humming through me. I’m so turned on at the thought of him wrapping his hands around my throat while he’s fucking it, my legs might give out. I revel in the way it feels to be held by him. Desired. Loved. A sentiment I’ve been afraid to admit too loudly in case it’s too good to be true and my whole world comes crashing down around me. Again. Marco’s gravelly voice pulls me from my spiraling thoughts.
“I went six years without seeing you every day and loved you from afar for even longer,” he says, walking us both back towards the couch, and pulling me down with him so I’m straddling his lap, one knee on either side of his legs. My heart feels like it might explode from his sweet confession.
“I owe you the truth. Arty’s face looks like that because he dared to go after what is mine. Dared to come into this club and intimidate men I consider my brothers. No one threatens my family and gets away with it.” His words pierce my heart, and I whimper. There’s more I want to ask. Like who did it and how, but my need to know details pales in comparison to my desire for him.
Taking his face in my hands, I look directly into his eyes, now the same deep shade of emerald as the couch. I can’t fight my truth anymore. “You’re my entire heart, Marco. I want you to trust me implicitly with the good and the bad. I want us to be a team.” I kiss him slowly, letting my hands fall away from his face and roaming them over his firm chest and abs. He flexes under my touch, and it spurs on my urgency to have him naked. I pull at the hem of his shirt, and he lets me strip it from him. I run my hands over his tattooed chest softly, pausing to trace the petals of the rose and the letters over his heart. I lift my eyes to his, seeking confirmation of their meaning.
“So I could always keep a reminder of you close to my heart,” he rasps. I crash my lips to his again and kiss him passionately, trying to translate everything I want to say, but can’t find the words toexpress. My hips move of their own accord against the hard-as-steel bulge behind his zipper. Wrapping my hair around his fist, he tugs, breaking our kiss. “Slow down, sweetheart,” he rasps. “I’m in control tonight, remember.”
Chapter sixty-one
Pretty Please With A Cherry On Top
Marco
Igrabherhipsand hold them over the erection straining behind my zipper. It gives her some of the friction she’s craving, but I’m not going to let her take her pleasure until I’ve had the taste of her on my lips and coated hers in mine.
“I know I’ve been possessive and bit cagey on details,” I say, pressing my forehead to hers, “but it’s because there’s multiple threats at play. Like there’s a fucking army of wolves dressed in sheep’s clothing around every corner. One wrong move could set off a chain of events there might be no coming back from. I don’t want you caught in the crosshairs.” I pause briefly, pressing tender kisses to her neck and jaw while my hands roam up her thighs and over her hips to cup her heavy breasts in my hands. I roll her budded nipples between my fingertips, pinching them firmly. She gasps then moans softly, arching her back and grinding into me more insistently, the heat of her wet cunt molten like lava against my lap. I can read her body like a sheet of music; she craves the zing of pain as much as the sensuous strums.
“Have I told you how sexy you are in boss mode? If not, let this be it, for the record,” she says with a smile against my lips. “Now, please let me show you how sorry I am for being a brat today.” Before she can unzip my pants, I stand quickly and swap our positions so she’s reclining against the back of the sofa, her heel-clad feet planted on the floor. I grab a syrupy cherry from the bowl and sink to my knees in between her legs, my shoulders pushing her thighs wider.
“Not yet. I always look after what’s mine first. Now spread for me, Kitten. I’m going to eat my cherry pie with cream first. Only when I’ve had my fill, and you’re desperate to wrap those red lips around my cock, can you suck on me like I’m your very own cherry-flavored lollipop.”
“Oh God.” She moans as I knead the side of her body with one hand and dangle the cherry by the stem in the other, running it lightly between her breasts, around each of her dusty pink nipples, and down her taut stomach. I lower my mouth and follow the same path with my tongue and my lips, licking and sucking the sweetness from her skin until I reach the waistband of her thong. I run my nose up her center, her sweet musky smell making me even more desperate to have her taste on my tongue. I groan as I inhale and push her panties to the side to expose her swollen, glistening pussy. Peppering kisses and little nips on each of her inner thighs, I listen as her breathing becomes faster and shallower. She tries to push herself closer to my mouth. “Patience, Kitten,” I say, looking at her beneath hooded eyes heavy with my own lust. Then I spread her lips and lightly drag the cherry through her wetness. “Oh fuck,” she groans out. “More Marco. Please, baby,” she begs.
I repeat the action once more. “Eyes on me,” I command. She obeys, and I reward her with praise. “My good fucking girl.” With that, I pop the cherry in my mouth and pop it off the stem in the same way she did earlier. I chew to coat my mouth with the sweet juices, and then I lean in and pull her to the edge of the couch, lifting her hips towards my mouth. “That’s it, my dirty little slut. Give me this dripping pussy,” I say before using the flat of my tongue to lick her back to front, swirling my tongue around her clit. The sweet cherry juice mixes with hers to createthe most addictive drug I’ve ever tasted. I alternate between licking, nibbling, and nipping at her most sensitive bits, her pretty moans and whispered cries echoing around us as she clings to the sofa for purchase. As I work her over, she adds more pressure where she needs it by grinding against my face, taking control of her pleasure unashamedly in the way I love. “Yes, yes, yes, there,” she cries as I flick her clit over and over with my tongue. When I feel the start of the telltale tremble that her orgasm is cresting, I take her sensitive bud into my mouth and suck. Her orgasm hits hard and she comes on a hoarse shout, mouth open, back arched, head thrown back. Her body flushes the same pretty cherry color as the one mixed with her cum coating my tongue as she rides out the last of her release. I raise up on my knees and fuse my mouth to hers so she can taste herself. She groans into my mouth, and I snap. I can no longer wait to have her lips wrapped around me.
Chapter sixty-two
You Were Perfect
Sophia
Pushingupontohisknees, Marco drapes his body over mine and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me into a desperate kiss that tells me his last shred of control has snapped. My body is heavy and deliciously spent after he took his time teasing me to my climax, but I want to make this good for him. I want that version of him that takes what he wants without remorse. I want him to forget about taking care of me, protecting me, putting plans in place. I want us to get swept up in this moment, to just be lost in each other. I run my hands through his hair, scraping my nails along his scalp the way he likes. It earns me a groan, and I tug on his ends, pulling my mouth away from his, looking up at him through hooded lids. I drag my nails down the front of his torso, eliciting a shiver from him.
“What’s got you shivering, baby? You don’t feel very cold,” I coo, repeating his words from earlier.
“Brat,” he growls, standing suddenly and weaving his hand into the hair at the back of my head and tugging with enough force to lock our gazes.
“There he is.” His eyes blaze, and I reach out and cup his erection straining against his zipper, the weight of him heavy against my palm. I apply some pressure with a squeeze, and move my hand to his belt buckle, but he knocks my hand away before I can take it much further, making quick work of undressing. I adjust my position so I’m sitting upright, my ass to the edge of the couch, legs spread wide and ready to take him. Stepping in close, he strokes his hard, thick cock that juts out proudly with long, languid strokes with one hand and cups the back of my head with the other.
“Open up, baby. Time to put this smart mouth to work,” he says, voice rough with need as he brings his length right to my mouth. I poke my tongue out the littlest bit and swirl around his swollen head. He hisses in return, the hand in my hair tightening in response.
“I wore the red lipstick like you asked. But you promised a cherry-flavored lollipop,” I say on low gasp, teasing him further with a soft kiss to his tip before I reach over and pluck a cherry from the bowl. “Let’s fix that.” Then I tease him in the same way he did to me, trailing the syrupy cherry from his sensitive taint, along his shaft and around his swollen tip, licking, kissing, and sucking along the same path and stroking him between each pass, edging him almost to release, then pulling him right back.
His whimpers and low moans send a zip of electricity through me, and I feel myself dripping with need again as the melodious sound collides with the sharp sting of Marco’s hands wrapped around my hair, tugging to control how fast or slow I suck on him. I can tell he’s almost there, the buck of his hips getting faster, but before I urge him to take me the way he wants, I pop off him. He cusses. “I promise it will all feel better in a second, baby,” I purr as I make a show of putting the cherry in my mouth and popping it off the stem in the same way that snapped his control earlier. I hope it has the same effect on him now.
I look up at him chewing slowly, letting the sweet cherry coat my mouth, before I lick up the pre-cum about to drip off his tip and take him into my mouth. I run my hands up the back of hislegs until they’re cupping his firm ass, and before I fully take him inside, I command, “Now fuck my face.” I give him no choice but to obey as I suck and take him deep as I pull his ass towards me.
“Fuccckkkkk,” he groans as he pistons into me again and again, hitting the back of my throat, setting off my gag reflex, the sensation of my throat constricting around him heightening his pleasure further. When I can sense he’s about to come, I hold him there and he explodes, his cum filling the back of my throat, causing me to splutter.
“Fuck, Soph! Was I too rough?” Marco asks, panicked, softly wiping at the tears rolling down my face and pulling out.
I swallow and give him a soft smile. “You were perfect. Now kiss me. Pretty please with a cherry on top.”
Chapter sixty-three
