Chapter 11
“Don’t do this,” she sighed.
“Give me a reason not to.”
“You’re just mad that I was interested in Proof!”
“You’re not interested in me?” he questioned, as his fingers
traveled up the length of her inner thigh.
“Not really—”
“Bite your tongue. Your
body can’t lie,” Marshall pointed
out as he encountered her heat which was already hot and wet, ready for him.
He kissed her gently; caressing and teasing languidly instead of
throttling her with the full force of his passion as he had done earlier. His right hand cupped her breast, and his
palm tenderly massaged her to a rosy peak.
“Were you trying to make me jealous?” he asked as he removed his
mouth from hers.
“No—”
“Wrong answer, try again,” he said with a harsh undertone.
“Fine, maybe.”
“Better answer, but I think the right answer is yes,” he
said smugly.
“Did it work?” she taunted, eager to wipe that grin off his
face.
“Yes,” he bit out harshly.
“Hm,” she looked at him in
thought. “Maybe I’ll give you what you
want.”
“You’ll give me what I want? Oh, baby, who says you can?”
“Because I already know I can.
How many times was it last night that you—”
“You win,” he smiled at her.
They kissed tenderly, and she steadied herself by placing one
hand on his shoulders. The free hand
swept downwards and deftly undid his pants’ button and lowered the zipper in
one quick, fluid motion.
Her small hand grasped the very core of him; he moaned as she
tentatively squeezed.
“Oh, baby…”
Marshall’s
impatience caught up with him, as well as the tight hold on his control was
starting to falter and slip, and he gave her a roguish
grin with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Hold on,” he warned, and quickly entered her hot passageway.
A low, soft whimper emitted from her throat as the sensation of
fulfillment overwhelmed her senses; she felt full and tightly coiled. All he had to do was look at her in that way,
with eyes wide and hungry and touch her so intimately, in order for her to find
herself half-lost in a fantasy land that existed only when they were joined
together and moving sinuously with their bodies meshing into one entity.
It was always like that—perfection, in some strange, faraway
feeling, had descended upon them as their bodies heated and cooled, tangled
with nerves screaming as they were electrified, flaming and burning at both
ends, while they whimpered at the loss of contact and sighed deeply, moaned
loud and appreciatively as their sweat-slicked skin touched once more.
By no means were they gentle, soft, or tender—it was hard, fast,
and torturously hot as their bodies melted and separated, rekindled flame after
flame. Their kisses were hurried and
frenzied; hands groped and caressed, teased and tormented as they reached new
heights as they ascended to the heavenly state that everything was leading to.
Time pressed in on them, taunted and made them cringe as they
pushed themselves higher. The touch of
the other was as necessary as the next gasp of breath was; neither could get
enough, whether it was by kiss, touch, or sound—each bit was just a little more
to satiate their desire, just as each taste of more ignited a more powerful
blaze that smoked with the aroma of sweat and lust sweeping their senses and
thickened the air around them with an intensity that made feelings tangible.
She gasped at his relentlessness; his hips driving roughly into
hers while his hands gripped her hips, bruising them with his imprint. But her body did not yield to his, she took
more than he gave, gave more than he took; they worked in such a manner that
was destroying and consuming, just as it was immensely passionate and
gratifying.
Their passion was a double-edged sword; hot on one side, cold on
the other—slick and dangerous but soft and gentle. They were caught in the crossfire of their
own tumultuous desires, only finding release as the pinnacle of their passions’
heights could find; some ethereal reach beyond their comprehension—a feeling so
intense and amazing that it left them breathless and thirsty for air, but the
hunger had only been tamed. It still
lingered, lying low; like the dying embers of a forest fire—still full of life,
just waiting for the slightest increase in temperature before it glowed
brightly, grew, and began to consume all that it had already destroyed with its
awesome heat.