Page 48 of My Always One

“Fuck, Marshal…” I moan.

His speed increases as my hips jump.

Undeterred, Marshal holds my hips down as he licks and nips. I’ve never been so consumed. I mean that literally, but also figuratively. The world outside these old walls is gone. Hell, even within these walls. I can’t fathom anything or anyone other than Marshal and what he’s doing to me.

No amount of wiggling or thrashing will lessen his ministrations. I can’t fight his hold, and I don’t want to. Yet it’s too much stimulation as tiny tremors morph to seismic earthquakes, pushing me closer and closer to my orgasm. It’s when Marshal adds his skilled fingers, plunging deep inside me that I scream his name.

“Marshal.”

My entire body convulses, flooding my system with the sense of euphoria. It’s as my mind clears that I realize that his touch has moved, circling and teasing the place I’ve never considered allowing anyone to go.

“Marshal, I’ve never...”

“Shhh, honey, let me show you how good you can feel.”

On the few occasions when anyone has tried to breach my tight muscles, I’ve stopped them. Jack never tried, but with each passing tease, it’s apparently clear that Marshal isn’t waiting for me to grant him consent.

Of course, I haven’t refused him either.

The wordnois on the tip of my tongue as my breathing quickens.

I bite my lip, losing myself to his touch, confident he’d stop if I told him and equally curious if I don’t. The exhilaration of the haunted house is back. Thank goodness, I have my best friend with me, the man I know I can trust.

As his finger pushes past the tight muscles, my back arches and my hips quiver. The stimulation is more than I ever imagined. He’s working me with both his fingers and his mouth. Perspiration moistens my skin. Breathing seems overrated as I pant and gasp.

All I can think about is how good it feels, and how I don’t want him to stop.

When his thumb strokes my clit, every muscle in my body tightens and wave after wave washes through me. The sound of the river outside is lost as convulsions overtake my body and my feet slip from the bench. By the time my eyes open, Marshal is moving my feet to the floor and turning me around. My breasts are against the old bench, and I suck in a deep breath as his erection pushes against my entrance.

I taste my own essence as he cranes my neck backward and kisses me.

As his tongue dances with mine and my back arches, his monster cock plunges inside me. As it moves in and out, my breasts rub the bench and my core stretches as Marshal works to get his full length within me.

Full.

Deliciously filled.

Marshal Michaels fills me like no one ever has. In no time, my core again clenches as he pushes me toward another orgasm. His rhythm grows faster as his cock continues to harden and grow inside of me.

Again, his finger enters territory where only he’s gone.

“Oh…oh…God…” Words are difficult to form.

“That’s it, honey. Tonight my finger, but soon you’ll have my dick.”

I shake my head, telling him no, but the words won’t form. I trust this man. I trust my friend not to hurt me. Those thoughts come and go as my body again detonates. My core clenches and hugs his cock. My shoulders fall to the bench and the boathouse fills with Marshal’s guttural growl.

The deep rumble reverberates in the concrete boathouse as he throbs within me. Finally, Marshal collapses over my back. We’re still connected, his chest covering my back, warming and protecting me.

“I…I…That was amazing,” Marshal whispers near my ear.

What was he going to say?

When he doesn’t say more…I agree, “It was.”

Sami

Iwipe ketchup from my chin as I set the partially eaten cheeseburger in the plastic basket lined with crinkly paper that’s sitting upon my lap. With the windows of Marshal’s car open and the summer breeze, the scene reminds me a bit of when we were young.

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