Page 29 of Forever Mr Black

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and press my mouth against his ear. “Art, please.”

“I need to taste you,” he gasps, and the words alone are nearly enough to tip me over the edge.

He pulls me to the end of the counter, and he’s kneeling in front of me. He grabs the backs of my thighs and pushes my legs up, so my feet are resting on his shoulders.

I lean back on my hands and watch as he goes to work, his tongue teasing me. I’m already there. A sweet, delicious contraction makes me close my eyes and throw my head back. I can’t watch his head between my legs because it’s all too much. I gasp as another throb racks through my body, but I claw myself back from the brink.

“Not yet.”

I open my eyes to see Art on his feet, stepping out of his sweatpants. “I want to feel you come undone on my cock.”

Fucking hell.

He positions himself between my legs, and I hook my arms around his neck and legs around his waist.

He sinks his cock inside me on a long, satisfied hiss. “This is going to be quick.”

Thank God.

It takes all my willpower to drive down the fire raging at my core as he withdraws, making my muscles clench in protest.

In one smooth stroke, he pushes himself inside me to the hilt. I feel myself tighten around him, holding him in place as he throbs against me. I dig my fingernails into his shoulders.

“Finish it,” I plead.

He bites my bottom lip and then releases it. “Your wish is my command.”

He grips my waist as he draws back and slices into me at a relentless pace. I cry out, sinking my nails further into his flesh, as my muscles, my body, my mind are thrown into spasm, and I fall apart. He slams into me over and over, prolonging my orgasm until he’s spent.

I rest my head into the curve of his neck, and I feel wetness beneath my fingers. I lazily open one eye to see bright red blood on the tips of my fingers. I immediately feel bad.

“I’m sorry. You’re bleeding. I scratched your back.”

Art laughs softly. “You mean, you’ve branded me as yours.”

Is that what I’ve done? Subconsciously branded him? I’ve never done it before.

“It’s okay. I’m sure I’ll live.” He slides his hands underneath my thighs. “Hold on.”

I keep my arms and legs wrapped around him as he carries me into the bedroom. He lays me down, and then he climbs in and pulls the sheets over both of us.

I’m sweaty, and I can feel the sticky, wet remains of him trickling down my inner thighs. “We should really get showered,” I say, making no move to get out of bed.

Art sidles up behind me and drapes an arm around my waist. Game over. I’ve zero incentive to move now.

“Soon. I like this. Us lying here. Us smelling of each other.”

Maybe I’m not the only one marking my territory, I think to myself. And the worst thing? I think I like it.

Ten

The afternoon sun is shining down on the terrace as Lucy and I head outside with our drinks. We’re making the most of a quiet midweek afternoon and grabbing half an hour for a lunch break in the sun.

“I still can’t believe it,” Lucy says in disbelief as we sit down at one of the wrought iron tables. “What a fucking creep.”

I settle back in the chair. “Which creep are you referring to?”

“That fucking Jamie bloke. We’ve always known Theo was one.” She takes a sip of tea and rests her cup down on the table.

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