Page 6 of Marshmallow
“It’s like you’re Cinderella and this is the ball,” Georgia says. “He’s your handsome prince and as long as you don’t lose your shoe, this could be the start of your happily ever after.”
Carter
“I’ve got everything I need already,” Saffron says, looking at me over the top of her glasses as she digs around in her purse. “Those pictures areperfect.So what we’re going to do is pack this stuff up, and I will take everybody out for a celebratory meal.”
“A meal?” I say, deflated because I was really looking forward to doing more of the shoot with my Marshmallow. My hands feel empty without her in them.
She stands up straight. “Yes. But you’re not coming.” She holds up a plastic keycard. “I’ve paid for these two rooms, so you have them until checkout in the morning.” She presses the keycard against my chest. “Claim your queen, Carter. And call me with details, because I will die without them.”
With a grin that I couldn’t control if I wanted to, I palm the card then slide it into my back pocket. “I’m never sharing any details about my woman with anyone. But since you’re an author, I’m sure you can invent some.”
“You at least need to confirm your relationship for me. Do you think she’s as head over heels for you as you are for her?”
“I promise you, Saffron, Marsha Foster was born specifically for me. I knew it the moment I saw her.”
She lets out a happy sigh while I turn away and head back into the room where the photographer and his team are closing up their cases. “Good luck, buddy,” Jeff says with a wink as they all file out, leaving me alone in a big hotel suite.
I have a split second of feeling nervous before the adjoining door opens and in walks the most beautiful creature, dressed in a creamy white that makes her look even better than she smells.I need to taste her.
“Where is everyone?” she asks, looking around the empty room as a slight frown creases her brow.
“They left. But the room’s paid through till morning. I thought you might like to enjoy it with me.”
“Seriously?”
I laugh. “Why is all this such a shock to you?”
“Because…I don’t know. Because this kind of stuffdoesn’thappen to me. No matter what anyone says to build up your confidence, being big isn’t considered beautiful. I get reminded of that daily by putting myself out there on social media.”
I want to hunt down every bastard who’s ever said a nasty thing to her and beat them until they bleed and swear never to utter a negative word about a woman again. The female form is beautiful in all its shapes and sizes.
“People are shallow, Marsha. They’re also obscenely jealous by nature. The persona you put out there for the word to see is open, vulnerable andreal.When I first saw your account, I admit I was attracted by your looks, but it wasyour wordsthat drew me in. Your mind that drove me to want you the way I do. I think you’re special. And this might come as another shock, but I plan to keep you.”
“Keep me?” Her eyes go wide, but the doubt is still there. I move closer and hook my finger under her chin.
“I want you, Marsha. I want your body. I want your mind. But mostly, I want your heart. Say you’ll be mine,” I murmur. “Say you’ll stay here with me so I can show you exactly how a real man should treat a woman as amazing as you.”
“Yes,” she breathes, leaning into me. I smile as I take that as her answer then clamp my mouth over hers, my dick hard and needy. I’m desperate to be inside her and it’s taking all of my willpower to stop myself from tearing her clothes from her body.
“Will you say it for me, sweetness?” I whisper as she trembles in my arms.
“I’m yours,” she gasps, and I let out an erotic growl. I will spend the night fucking her so hard her eyes roll back into her head. I’m going to take her bare and fill her waiting womb with my seed because I want us to be bound. Together. Forever.
I have a sweet tooth. And I don’t like to share my treats. This marshmallow is mine.
Marsha
Is this even real? I have been claimed. Lost and now found. Ibelong.I’ve neverfelt that I belonged anywhere, but here I am, convinced that I belong with this stunning man.
Taking my hand, he pulls me toward the bed. “I know I’m supposed to wine and dine you first, but I’m desperate to taste my marshmallow and see how sweet she is. Can I taste you, sweetness?”
“Yes,” I reply, my voice merely breath as I decide that his tongue between my legs is the best damn thing I can imagine.
“Take your panties off and give them to me,” he instructs. And I’m quick to comply, whimpering when he holds them to his nose and inhales. “You’ve been creaming yourself thinking about me.”
My instinct is to deny, but what’s the point? The evidence is in his hands and to be honest, I’m not embarrassed to admit how much I’m turned on by him.
“I’ve been imagining what it’s like to be with you,” I say.
