Page 22 of The Mountains Edge

He cushions my head with his hand, like I'm precious. His dog tags brush my skin as he braces above me.

"Are you sure about this?" His voice is gravel-rough.

I wrap my legs around his waist. "Been sure for weeks."

He groans as the movement brings our bodies flush. His control visibly splinters.

"Last chance to run."

“I will chase you down.”

Something fierce flashes in his eyes. Then he's kissing me hard, hands everywhere. I arch into his touch, finally, finally getting to touch back.

"I need you," I gasp as his mouth finds my throat. "Please Marcus." I try to remove my underwear, needing him to touch me.

"You need to learn patience." But his voice shakes.

"I’m done with patience." I rock against him.

He retaliates by trailing kisses lower, discovering what makes me gasp, what makes me moan. I fist my hands in his hair as he slowly removes my underwear, fully exposing myself to him.

I feel his tongue, rough on my sensitive skin, as he licks me. One long lick up my core and softly circling my clit.

“More,” I beg, not caring what he thinks. I just need more.

His fingers open me up, as his mouth descends on me, his tongue dipping into me, as I feel my body respond.

“You are delicious,” he growls as he slowly pushes two fingers into me, stretching me, as he watches my face for any pain. “Is this too much?” he asks as his fingers begin to thrust into me.

I meet him thrust for thrust, unable to speak as I my body bows as he ads a third fingers and he nips at my clit.

That did it. I screamed as my legs wrapped around his head and pushed him deeper into me as I felt my release rip through me. Marcus held on, not letting up as he lapped at me, as I heard his fingers against my wetness.

He finally kisses his way back up my body. I grab his tags, pulling him closer. "Fuck me now, Marcus."

I sit up and undo his jeans, pushing them down as they drop to the floor. His erection juts out of his boxer, bobbing against his stomach.

“Holy mother.”

I watch as Marcus pushes his boxes down and palms himself, and I watch as he grows larger. How the hell is that even possible?

“This is as far as we can go,” he groans. “I have no condoms.”

“One, I own the store. Two, I don’t need one. I haven’t had sex in twelve months. And I really want to feel you in me. I want you to fill me.”

His breathing deepens. “I’m clean.”

I reach out for him and try to wrap a hand around him, but end up using both hands as I watch him twitch against me.

He lifts me up and goes to the lounge and sits down so I straddle him.

“You set the pace.” He tells me as he lays back, pulling me with him. “You only take what you want to.”

Then the world narrows to sensation – his weight, his hands, his mouth on mine.

I trace his scars as we move together, learning him by touch. His hands find mine, fingers intertwining as he drags me down to him.

"Look at me," he growls.

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