Page 35 of Past Due

He sucked in a sharp breath when her small hand clasped his cock. She seemed to be studying him as she stroked slowly to the base and then swirled her hand back to the top. He was uncircumcised so he assumed it was because he looked different than other men she might have seen up close.

The thought of other men seeing her like this, feeling her hands on them like this, sent a flare of jealous rage burning through. It wasn’t right to feel that way. He had no claim on her. How would he feel if she became irrationally jealous of all the lovers in his past? He wouldn’t like it, and he shouldn’t treat her any differently.

And yet...

And yet he couldn’t deny the feeling was there. The feeling that she was his. That she was always meant to be his and only his. Mine. She’s all mine.

Right now, she was absolutely his. She licked her lips while stroking his aching cock, and he held his breath when she shuffled down his thighs. He had only a moment’s warning before she sucked the tip of his cock between her lips.

Fuck.

FUCK.

He groaned at the intense pleasure of her soft, wet mouth on the most sensitive part of him. Her hand and mouth were uncoordinated at first, but her clumsy attempts didn’t bother him in the slightest. Her mouth felt so fucking good. He shuddered at the sensual sucking sensation and gripped the bedcovers in both hands.

She explored his shaft with her tongue, dragging it all the way down to his sac before sliding right back to the tip. She seemed to be in no hurry at all as she licked and sucked and fluttered her tongue around the throbbing head. She hummed happily around his cock and stroked him with both hands now. His thighs tensed at the almost overwhelming sensation, and she eased up, gently letting him fall from her mouth.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, gazing up at him with those big, vulnerable eyes of hers.

“No, baby,” he assured her.

“Good.” She smiled and returned to her task with enthusiasm that had him digging his toes into the mattress. Her mouth felt like pure sin, and he was torn between wanting to hold back, to enjoy it longer, and letting go. In the end, it wasn’t up to him, Marley slid her pouty mouth all the way down his cock, not stopping until her nose bumped his body. Feeling his dick nestled in her throat sent him hurtling over the edge.

Before he could warn her that he was about to come, she slid back up his shaft, sucking and swallowing as he filled her welcoming mouth with his seed. She made a surprised sound, the vibrations of it only adding to the wild sensation of his orgasm. She eased off and flicked her tongue against him, licking every last drop he had to offer.

“Enough,” he growled, almost pained. He tangled his fingers in her long hair and gently tugged her up his body. She wiped her mouth on his lower belly before dotting kisses up his chest. She seemed a bit shocked when he kissed her, but she relaxed into him and sighed happily when he pulled back to gaze at her.

Unable to believe this incredible woman cared for him as deeply as he cared for her, Besian allowed himself to be unnaturally honest. He swept her bangs from her eyes and trailed his fingers down her silky soft cheek. “I love you, Marley.”

She grinned. “I love you, B.”

When she cuddled into his side, he found himself dragging her in even closer. Cuddling wasn’t his thing. It never had been. He always found it too personal, almost invasive, and he didn’t like the hot, sweaty feeling of having another body pressed against him.

Strangely, he craved her closeness. He wanted to feel her against him while he slept, wanted to know she was safe and protected. He wanted Marley to stay right here, next to him, always.

She fell asleep quickly. He wasn’t all that surprised. She had been hiking and traveling for days. Plus, he had hit her with shocking news. She had probably been running on fumes.

He wasn’t so lucky. The jet lag and his weeks of terrible sleep left him feeling restless. He carefully extracted himself from her arms and tucked the covers around her until he returned. After a trip to the bathroom, he found his boxers among the clothes on the floor and slipped back into them. He picked up the rest of their clothing, neatly folding her pajamas and placing them on her bedside table.

His gaze landed on the book and journal she had been drawing in before her shower. He wasn’t going to invade her privacy by looking at the journal. Whatever she had written in there was for her eyes only, and unless she wanted to share it with him, he had no business snooping.

The big, thick book, however, was familiar. It had been one of the paperbacks Ben had suggested, but not one of the books he had purchased. Wondering what was so interesting about it, he picked it up and carried it back to the bed. He left on the lamp closest to his side of the bed and carefully slipped back under the covers.

Marley made a little sound, almost as if annoyed to be disturbed, and he winced in silent apology. She rolled over, facing away from him, but wiggled back until her bottom was pressed against his hip. He leaned over and pressed a loving kiss to her shoulder, tugged the blanket higher to cover her breasts and then leaned back against the pillows to read.

He started on the first page, but then noticed the book had a natural bend to the spine. It was as if Marley had read and reread a specific page a hundred times. He let the book open to that section, the pages falling aside effortlessly, and found a paragraph inside a pink highlighted box. There were tiny smudges on the paper, probably from all the times she had fingered the pages.

Whatever Sylvia Plath had written here resonated with Marley on a deep level. He scanned the passage she had highlighted. Immediately, he felt shame. An intense, face burning shame that twisted in his gut and left him feeling sick.

“Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars--to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording--all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night...”

He swallowed hard as he read the passage again. He hated himself for the way he had scolded her like a naughty child. How many times had he called her reckless or careless? He cringed at his awful behavior.

Marley wanted what he had taken for granted his entire life. She had bravely set out to follow her dreams, to travel and explore, and he had ruined her experience by treating her like a silly little girl who didn’t understand the ways of the world.

Yet, she had still trusted him to keep her safe. She had confessed her shared love and freely given herself to him. All of that after he had ruined what had probably been a wonderful day of exciting adventure.

He warred with himself, desperate to wake her and apologize for being such an asshole. Later, he promised himself. In the morning, when she was freshly rested, he would grovel. Whatever she demanded, he would give.

Until then, he settled back and returned to the first page of the book. Maybe Sylvia had some other lessons to teach him.

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