He leaned his left elbow on the wall, steadying his torso over her. “You look like an angel in that dress.”
Becki lifted her leg higher and her breath hitched as he slammed in again, their groins snapping together. “Dark suit. Dark hair.” She pressed her hand against his cheek and the stubble. “Dangerous like a demon.”
“I needed this. Need to feel you around me.” Marcus slowed and leaned away slightly, peering down at where they joined. Her dress was scrunched around her waist, his cock sticking out from the fly of his suit pants wet with moisture, his belt done up and shirtfront still tucked in. “You fit me so perfectly.”
He eased back a bit more, pulling his hips away until the broad head of his cock clung to her lips. The purple head contrasted against the lighter colour of her body, soft skin wrapping around him as he eased forward and her body accepted him in.
“Oh God, Marcus.” Becki slipped her hand down and separated her labia, watching eagerly as he did it again. Deliberate. Thorough. The sight of him taking her made her limbs shake, combining vision with sensation that was powerful and edged her to the breaking point.
“I see your clit bar wiggle every time I fuck into you.” He moved again and hummed in approval. “It’s all wet and shiny with your juices. Makes me want to pull out and eat you alive.”
“No.” She clutched his shoulder with her left hand. “Don’t stop.”
“Play with yourself, sweet Becki. Let me see you come. Let me feel you on my cock.”
“If I touch myself, it’s all over,” she warned. “You’ve got me so ready. Hell, I’ve been ready for days.”
“Did you play with yourself when you were alone?” he asked.
When she didn’t answer, he pulled all the way out. A whimper of dismay escaped her. “Yes, but please. Finish me.”
He thrust into her fingers where she’d caught at him. “This is better with another person, isn’t it? Instead of cold toys, or your hand. That’s nothing but physical release. Takes off the edge but it’s missing something.”
He bumped the head of his cock against her opening, and she tilted her hips to help guide him back in. Her sigh of happiness matched the shiver of satisfaction that shook her to her toes. “Fuck me. Please, don’t stop.”
He kissed her and plunged in, swallowing her groan of pleasure. Three or four more times, deep and hard, burying himself to the root and pausing before withdrawing slowly, teasing her already quivering nerves.
She slipped her fingers higher and flicked the tiny gold bar the way she knew was most effective, and that was it.
“Marcus . . .”
He covered her mouth with his and stopped her screams from echoing off the roof as her climax broke her apart. Her sheath constricted around his heavy shaft, tearing his response from him. Wetness and heat bathed her as he ground their hips together, moving the clit bar and prolonging the ecstasy flooding her system.
They clung to each other until the shaking stopped, their breathing uneven and ragged as they gasped to find control. The continuing clatter of the party below them rose to the balcony. Tinkling of glasses, the low murmur of masculine tones, the occasional higher-pitched female laugh.
Sophisticated and mature sounds. Miles away from the hell, yeah whispering past her lips.
Marcus caught her chin in his hands. “You are one in a million.”
He kissed her again, less like a starving animal and more as if he were a good friend who’d missed her. Wetness trickled down the inside of her legs as he withdrew his cock.
Marcus stared. When she would have wiped herself clean, he pinned her arms back. “Wait. That is so fucking sexy.”
His gaze locked between her thighs, he squatted and ran his fingers through his seed and her wetness, stroking her labia lightly.
She shivered. “I’m not going to be able to walk if you touch me again.”
The intensity on his face should have scared her. She’d spent the past few days trying to figure out exactly what she wanted to work on over the next months. Making sure she was clear on her desires, her needs. Who was in charge of her life. All of it, not just her sex drive.
When he cupped her sex so delicately, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped her clean—
All her organized thoughts vanished in the continuing desire he stroked from her willing body. This man could turn her best plans to nothing with a single glance.
He cleaned her, straightened her stockings, planting kisses on the insides of her thighs as he smoothed them into position. Easing his palm down her skirt to help it lie neatly over her ass. All the while, wearing an expression of huge satisfaction.
“Since I plan on hanging on to you for the rest of the evening and even dancing, you might want to try to look a little less contented before we head back to the ballroom or there will be no doubt whatsoever we were up to something.”
“They can all be jealous I’ve got the most beautiful girl in the room.”
Marcus stood and pressed her to the wall, and she let him hold her there. She smoothed his hair with her fingers. “That was lovely. Thank you.”
He nodded. “Would you accompany me home after the gala tonight?”
Asking, not ordering. Politely worded even. She beamed at him. “I’d like that very much.”
Grinning like the conspirators they were, they slipped back down the stairs, pausing outside the party.
Becki tugged him to a stop, smoothing her hands over her hair. “How do I look?”
“Like you were ravished by a madman against a wall,” he whispered.
A snort of laughter escaped before she could stop it.
Marcus pirouetted her, his gaze lingering on her legs before snapping back up to her breasts and finally her face. “You look gorgeous. I can’t wait to show you off.”
She twirled a finger and he obediently rotated for her inspection. All the long, lean length of him, moving at her command, and when he faced her again, she couldn’t speak.
He lifted a brow. “That bad?”
“That good. I’m drowning in my drool over here.”
He held out his hand and escorted her back into the frivolity. Small talk and music. Happy smiles, and the occasional questioning look. Marcus hadn’t bothered to wear his prosthesis, and the gazes of people who didn’t know him stuttered to a stop on his pinned-up jacket sleeve.
Becki pulled him toward the side of the stage, ignoring the curious. They were there; the event was going well. Inconsequential things could be ignored. And tonight she would go home with him. Even having one thing settled was a relief.
Happy endorphins still hummed through his bloodstream, making it far easier to give in to Becki’s determined tug across the ballroom. Marcus would have been happy leaving now, but if he had to put in a little more face time, hiding with his team was as good a place as any.
The women held court over the Lifeline team, Devon shadowing Alisha.
“Did you speak yet?” Becki asked Alisha.
The blonde shook her long curls. “David said to wait until the top of the hour, so about fifteen minutes still.”
“Marcus, you wash up pretty well,” Erin teased. “So good to see you. Isn’t it good to see him, Anders?”
“Shut up,” Anders grumbled.
Marcus eyed them all. Erin’s grin was far bigger than usual—normally it was Anders wearing the Cheshire grin while his pilot carried herself with far more control. “What did I miss?”
“Name the last time you showed up at one of these events,” Anders complained. “Erin bet you’d be here, but I went with the odds. You cost me fifty bucks.”
“Well, sorry for being unpredictable, but it’s the best way to keep you on your toes.” Anders stared rather pointedly at Becki on his arm, and Marcus laughed. “Also, can’t help it if you aren’t more observant of what’s happening around you.”