Page 41 of Personal Disaster

Chapter Twelve

Marcus

Poppyin a bubble bath is exactly as hot as I imagined, which shouldn’t be where my head is at right now, but I can’t helpit.

She’s slick and soapy and flushed. I want insideher.

Instead, I’m letting her decorate me with bubbles while she figures out what she wants to ask menext.

It’s a sweet torture.

I don’t exactly fit in the tub, even though it’s officially big enough for two, so my arms are up on the sides and my legs arebent.

Poppy’s kneeling in front of me, sloshing water gently. Wet strands of her hair trail over her shoulders and around her breasts. “I just want to be sure that you aren’t pulling a fast one on me,” she says. One corner of her mouth quirks up as she gives me a gentle look. “And I guess by admitting that, I’m saying I trust that you aren’t.”

I reach out and trace one of the dark lines where the end of her hair curls over her sweet, pale flesh. “But you think you shouldn’t trust me. I agree, by the way. You shouldn’t trust anyone.”

“I do, though. There’s something about you. It’s a special kind of madness, how I feel about you. Like I look at youand…”

“And you really see me?” I follow the strand of hair up to her collarbone and onto her neck, where her pulse flutters under my touch. “I feel the same way. I see you, Poppy. And I like you. More than I should. More than is safe. Not because I can’t trust you. I can, and I do. But because you make me want things…”

She grins at me as I trail off. “Is question timeover?”

“Not at all,” I say huskily. “Ignore the erection bobbing in the water in front of you. Nothing to seehere.”

She takes me in hand, and I groan from how good it feels. “Feels like something.”

“Maybe question time is over afterall.”

“Paused.”

“Sure.” I haul her on top of me. I wasn’t talking about sex, exactly. She makes me want a whole lot more than fucking, but this is a good start.

I purposefully left the condoms on the other side of the room so we could talk, so instead of sliding into her, I rock my erection between her folds, sliding her slickness up and down the underside of my shaft. We kiss, hot and hard, and it doesn’t take long for her to quiver and shake in myarms.

I hold her through the first orgasm, then roar out of the water, holding her tight. I grab a towel and wrap it around her, spinning her around to look in the mirror over the wide wall-to-wall vanity.

Where the condomsare.

“Bend over,” I tell her, holding her gaze in the mirror.

She bites her lower lip and does as she’s told, letting the towel fall against the marble first as a cushion. I gather her wet hair, twisting it gently to the side, baring her spine.

Starting at the nape of her neck, I taste her skin, following the vertebrae down her back in a lazy, teasing slide of my tongue. She sighs, a long, groaning exhale, and rocks her hips back against me. I settle my hands there, squeezing her tight as I reach the curve of my bottom.

“Spread yourlegs.”

Again, she does as she’s told, and my cock throbs.

I find her slick, arousal coating her plump pussy, and when I stroke around her clit, she jolts againstme.

Good.

Condom on, I line up behind her and surge forward, sinking fully into her tight heat on the first thrust. Fuck, she feels amazing.

I look at the mirror again, where she’s watching me, eyelids low and mouth all flushed.

That mouth. Fuckme.

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