Page 20 of Bearly Breathing

He ran his hands up her rib cage until they rested just under her breasts. Heat from her body seeped into him, and he could hardly wait to lower his head and get his mouth around one pert nipple. At the sound of her frustrated moan, he slowed his kiss.

Not yet, baby, he thought. Nibbling and teasing her plump lips, he slowed down until he was doing nothing more than rubbing her lips with the softest of touches.

She followed him with her mouth, wanting more, wanting him, and it made more than his head swell.

“Look at me, baby,” Marcus stared as her lust glazed eyes slowly opened.

He made sure she was watching as he cupped both her fabulous breasts in his hands. His Leya’s eyes widened as sensation registered and her swollen lips parted on a moan.

Marcus growled out loud then and seized her mouth like a pirate plundering the richest of treasures. She tasted of the wine they shared at dinner and something sweeter, headier, that made him groan.

“Oh God,” she moaned as his hands travelled south. He cupped her throbbing sex over her clothes. Heat seeped into his skin.

Her panties were thin and damp and more than anything he wanted to rip them off. Roarrr. She dropped her head, allowing him access to her long neck and that soft dip just below her collarbone. He grazed her flesh with his teeth, tracing the hollow with his tongue.

She whimpered as he lifted the hem of her dress. He rubbed her mound with the heel of his hand. Loving the tremble that coursed through her body.

She made a deep, mewling sound. Marcus groaned in response. He wanted to make a meal of her right there.

The ding of the elevator sounded, and the doors opened. He swung her up into his arms. Thank God, the hall was empty. He hated the idea of anyone else seeing her like this. All soft and unguarded. And his.

She was so sweet, his mate. Sweet and sexy. Hot as fuck. Marcus wanted nothing more than to take her right there. To bury his cock so deep in her tight, wet heat that he’d need a fucking map to get out again. Mine. Mate.

The roar in his head was so loud he could hardly hear her moan as she struggled to press closer to him. Her lips found his neck and he growled as she sucked on the skin there.

She wants you, take her. He’d never experienced such desire, never thought the promise of such pleasure was possible. She slid down his body and opened the room to her suite.

Her soft hands travelled tentatively over his chest and stomach, tracing the outline of him through his shorts. He growled and tossed his head back, loving the feel of her as she touched his body.

He wanted her more than he wanted air. Which was why it shocked the shit out of him when Marcus found himself standing just inside her hotel room with the door propped open.

“Aren’t you coming in?” her lust filled eyes met his, a questioning look that made his heart squeeze.

“Not yet, baby.”

“But-”

“Honey, I don’t know what kind of fucking idiots you used to date, but right now I’m thanking God for them. You were cheated, but I’m not going to cheat you, I want you-”

“I want you too-”

“And I am so fucking happy to hear you say that, but not like this, not in a mad frenzy. When we make love, and have no fucking doubt that we will, I want you to be sure. I want you to be ready.”

“But I am-”

“What you are, baby is too damn hot for words. You’re killing me,” he said when she pressed into him and dropped a kiss on his throat.

“I thought you were going to show me what the fuss was about, Marcus? Changed your mind?” She looked up at him with her heart in her eyes, and he could have roared aloud.

“Never that, baby,” he rubbed his fingertips along her throat and up to cup her face, he needed her to focus, to hear him.

“You’re mine, Leya Tremayne,” he growled and pressed his lips to hers.

“Marcus?”

“I’m looking forward to showing you what the fuss is all about, baby. I’m gonna fucking dream about it all night.”

“Then why are you leaving?” Her frown was so damned adorable he wanted to nibble on her lower lip.

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