Survival of the Fittest
- Chapter 6
Savannah Rae set a plate down in front of Marshall. “There ya go. Complete nutrition for bottom feeders.”
He laughed. “Not bad for four o’clock in the morning, babe.”
“I try.”
They ate in silence, and he casually watched her across the table as if they’d done this a hundred times in the past. They hadn’t though, and he caught himself guessing at every fleeting expression that crossed her face. Her posture, at least, had begun to relax. But he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what she was thinking, if she’d forgiven him, or if her temper was simply turned down to simmer for the moment. Call him crazy, but he had a feeling she wasn’t done with him yet. “This is really good,” he finally said. “You’re a great cook.”
She eyed him suspiciously, licking her fork. He followed the movement of her little pink tongue, and despite the evening’s events, felt his stomach muscles tighten.
“Thanks.”
Marshall shifted in his chair and searched for something else to say. “You are gonna stay here with me tonight, aren’t you?”
“Unless you have a better idea?”
Was she fucking kidding? “Um, no.” He paused. “Are you aiight?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You’re too quiet. You haven’t insulted me in at least five minutes.”
“You have the table manners of a dung beetle, okay? I’m tired.”
Marshall grinned. He gathered up their plates and carried them over to the sink, and after he rinsed them off and put them in the dishwasher, turned back around to face her. “Let’s go to bed.”
“I’ll need a pillow and a blanket.”
“Huh?”
“For the couch, half-wit.”
“You ain’t sleeping on the goddamn couch, and neither am I.”
“Really.”
He shook his head and gestured impatiently. “I had my fingers inside you today-.”
“Yesterday,” she corrected.
“Okay, yesterday. There ya go. It’s our second date already. You’re tired, I’m tired, and there’s only one bed.”
“That’s pretzel logic, Marshall. I’m not sleeping with you.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I don’t want to!”
Marshall stalked over to where she was sitting and pulled her to her feet. “Why are you such a stubborn bitch? I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, ya know.”
Savannah Rae shrugged dismissively. “I’m still not sleeping with you.”
“I have candy.”
She blinked. “What kind?”
----//
Marshall snapped off the light and gathered a still purring Savannah Rae into his arms. If he’d known all it would take to get her there came in the form of a few individually wrapped teuscher chocolates, he would’ve invested. As it were, housekeeping left the truffles on his pillow every night.
She shifted around until she got comfortable, and in so doing, elbowed him in the gut. Twice. “You think you can go to sleep now, or do you need to take a shot at my kneecaps first?” he demanded.
“Every time I get comfortable, you move! And I changed my mind; I don’t like the right side.”
Marshall tightened his arms and rolled her over to the left side of the bed. “Better?”
“I think so.”
Less than a minute later, she was squirming again. “Jesus Christ, woman. What is it now?”
“I’m hot,” she whined.
He kicked the covers off. “There. Happy now?”
“I’m not sleepy anymore.”
“Are you trying to see how far you can push me? ‘Cause I gotta tell ya, babe- I can think of a few ways to wear you out.”
“Goodnight, Marshall.”
“That’s what I thought.”
----//
Marshall Mathers was on the very edge of sleep, that half-conscious state where thought starts to creep in, when he realized he wasn’t alone. There was a warm, distinctly female body sprawled out on top of him. The muscles in his arms twitched ever so slightly, bringing his hands to life, and his fingertips glided over smooth skin. She stirred against him, bringing him more fully awake, and in that moment Marshall knew exactly where he was, and that it was Savannah Rae he held in his arms. He cracked his eyes open in the dim light of his hotel bedroom and took in his surroundings.
The shades were drawn, casting the room into deep shadow, but he could see a razor sharp line of sunlight at the very top of the glass doors that opened onto the balcony. A quick glance at the clock told him it was well after noon, and the message light on his phone was blinking like crazy.
None of it really interested him. Savannah Rae did. She had crawled directly on top of him while they slept. Her head was tucked beneath his chin, her breasts were flush with his bare chest, and her legs were splayed on either side of his. If not for his boxers and her thin pajama bottoms, one good push would put him exactly where he wanted to be. Her tee-shirt had ridden up, or hell, maybe he’d helped it along, and the bare flesh of her back warmed his palms. He followed the indentation of her spine down to the loose elastic waist of her pajama bottoms and slipped his fingers under the fabric, sorely tempted to plunge his hands all the way into her pants. It wouldn’t be fair play, but that wasn’t what stopped him.
She was starting to wiggle. Her pelvis rubbed against him, and Marshall’s breath stalled in his throat for a second before he caught it. Breathe in. Breathe out. It was no use. His hips jerked with her next movement, and he pressed up, grinding against her. “Wake up, baby,” he groaned.
“Mmmm…”
Marshall disentangled his fingers from under the waistband of her pants and moved his hands firmly down over her ass. She squirmed, and he gripped both cheeks and thrust up. She whimpered, and he broke a sweat. The woman was either an extraordinarily sound sleeper, or she was playing possum. He wouldn’t put it past her. “Savannah Rae?” he prompted, unable to keep the urgency out of his tone. He threw his hips into her hard enough to lift them both inches above the mattress before dropping back with a frustrated growl.
Her head came up, and she blinked sleepily at him. “Marshall?”
“Kiss me,” he ordered. “Or I swear to God, I’ma throw you off the fucking balcony.”
Realization flooded her eyes and for a second he was afraid she’d bolt. Hell, maybe she really had been mostly asleep the whole time. She moved in slow motion, lowering her lips to his. The kiss was soft, a little wet, and chocolate flavored. He nipped at her and she opened wider, and Marshall took full advantage. He swept the inside of her mouth with his tongue and tasted truffles, her, and the promise of sex. He held her face to his with both hands and deepened the kiss until their mouths were fused so tightly together that they created a vacuum effect. When at last he disengaged, their lips made a loud sucking noise in protest of the separation.
Savannah Rae’s eyes opened slowly and Marshall thought he saw a flash of hesitation in them, but with her it was hard to tell. He rolled her onto her back, effectively reversing their position so that he was now on top. He leaned in for another kiss, and her thighs tightened around his hips when he pressed against her.
Marshall reached for the hem of her tee shirt and pushed it up to her neck. “Take it off.”
She searched his face. “I-.”
“Now.”
She glared.
“Please?”
He got to his knees and after a moment of deadlock, she pulled the shirt over her head. He smiled down at her, hands about her waist, and watched her nipples pucker in the chilled air. He bent over her again and took one in his mouth. Savannah Rae gasped at the strong suction he applied; her nails dug into his back, and without further prompting Marshall tugged at the waistband of her pants and until they were down around her knees.
He slid one finger down her slit, and finding her wet, added another and pushed inside. His thumb rubbed her clit up, down, and side to side. “You’re so fucking hot,” he groaned. Savannah Rae shoved at his boxers, and Marshall lifted his hips so she could work them down. Her fist closed around his dick and he leaned into it, panting, sweating, every muscle in his body primed and ready to go. She kicked her pants the rest of the way off and had no sooner finished when he kneed her thighs wide. “Let go of me, baby.”
She released him, and he wrapped his hand tight around his cock. He dragged the head over her clit and was rewarded by the jerk of her hips, but Marshall was too close to the finish line to play. He pressed down, found her hole, and just barely squeezed the tip in when she clenched around him. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He thrust again, but she was too tight and he didn’t gain much ground. “Are you nervous or just trying to kill me?” he panted.
Savannah Rae opened her mouth, closed it, and didn’t say a word. But then, she didn’t need to. For once he was pretty sure he was reading her right. The woman put up a good front, but underneath it all, she hesitated to let him get too close.
His eyes locked on hers and he ruthlessly stroked her clit. In another few seconds, her breathing was heavy and erratic. He pressed down again. “Let me in.”
She gave an inch. Two inches. He flicked her clit faster, harder. “All of it, baby. Give it up.”
Finally, she did. Marshall buried his cock to the hilt and fell forward, balancing his weight on his arms. He stroked in and out slowly at first, then faster when she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him even deeper. “Is this…do you…” he said, but the words strangled in his throat. He felt her nails rake his biceps and held on by the skin of his teeth. If she didn’t come soon….
“Harder,” she whimpered.
Now she was giving him directions? Marshall would’ve laughed if his balls weren’t drawn up so tight they ached. He slammed into her, forcing the air from her lungs, their stomachs slapping together in a sweaty rhythm when at last he felt it. Her inner muscles tightened violently for a split second before she let go with a thin cry. He rode her hard until the very end, until she went limp and he could feel her thighs trembling against him. Only then did he join her, and Marshall came in a seemingly endless torrent.
When it was over he collapsed, hollowed out, into her arms.
To be continued...
Author: jenn@shadyfiction.com
These stories are for entertainment purposes only. They are completely fictitious, and the authors mean no harm to EMINEM, his family, friends, or anyone else that may have been depicted as a 'real life' character. No money was made on the fiction here, either directly or indirectly, i.e. paid advertising. In other words - it's just a bunch of shit we wrote for fun. Please don't take it seriously.