Well, now. Anything she wanted—his demand might not be expected, but wasn’t it exactly what she’d been wanting?
She got to one knee, moving upright to rest her palms against the outside of his thighs. She explored, stroked. Brushed the wiry hair on his solid thighs and skimmed past his hips. Moved into position to plant a kiss on that band of muscle that wrapped along the sides of his torso—the Adonis line. A perfect place to press her lips and tease with her tongue. Small circles over his skin, breathing deeply to take in the scent of him—masculine, addictive.
She moved around his cock. The neglect not intended to torment him, but because he’d said to touch him everywhere. If she gave in already to her desire to adore his cock, she’d stop without tending to everything else she wanted to enjoy. His chest beckoned, and she rose higher to stroke and smooth the firm skin, his dusting of hair tickling her palms.
Becki gazed into his face, her hands cupping his cheeks briefly before threading her fingers through his hair. He smiled but didn’t speak.
“I like this game,” she whispered.
His eyes flashed, but he stayed in one spot, allowing her control. She strolled behind him, impatient for more muscles to caress, his firm butt cheeks to admire with her fingertips. She was surprised her thorough examination wasn’t driving him crazy as she worked him over, reading every inch like Braille.
No agenda—that was what he’d said—but suddenly there was one.
She wanted to give to him. Needed to share what she was feeling with him. It took a split second to peel off her panties and bra and toss them behind her. She stepped against his body, sighing as the warmth of his back connected with her torso. Her breasts pressed tight to him, she eased her fingers around his waist, stroking that wonderful band of muscle again, this time from behind.
When she curled her finger over his erection it was the first time since she’d begun she felt a reaction. Only because they were so close together did she know that her touch caused him to take a deep shaky breath.
She fisted him, pumping slowly, moving with caution. Cupping her hand over the head to find the moisture gathered there and spread it on her palm. His seed acted as a lubricant, but it wasn’t enough. She licked her fingers, saliva coating her in exchange for the burst of his taste that came as her tongue made contact with his seed.
Then she returned to the task at hand. Slow, even pumps, a pause to run her fingers over his sac, fingertips rolling his balls delicately. When she grasped him the next time, he countered, pushing into her hand, increasing her tempo. Becki laid her cheek against his back and worked as directed until he quivered in her embrace, torso shuddering as he came, liquid spurting over her fingers as she caught what she could.
She felt strangely satisfied. Without a climax, without a touch, but endorphins were floating through her veins all the same.
Marcus knelt briefly and scooped up his shirt, using the fabric to wipe her hand dry. Then he turned.
She wasn’t sure what her expression would reveal. Contentment? Hopefully not gloating, but she was far too satisfied by what she’d accomplished to be able to easily explain herself. Marcus pushed her hair back, his gaze darting over her face. Then he nodded. Once.
As he breathed slowly, his gaze finally moved down to trace over her body. The fire was nearly out, the candles around the room flickering with their last gasps. Still, enough of the pale yellow light remained to highlight her nakedness.
“My turn,” he declared. “My turn to touch you everywhere. With my fingers, my tongue. My cock. Until I’ve pushed you past the brink again and again.”
Her body quivered in response. To his words? Or to the thought of what was about to happen?
He offered his hand and she took it, surprised again when he brought her around the room and they extinguished the candles one at a time. When he escorted her through the bedroom door, the only light remaining was the pale flicker of red and gold through the glass of the stove.
Darkness filled the space. She might have been blindfolded again for how little she could see. Marcus didn’t seem to have any troubles guiding her to the end of the bed and pushing her back until she sat.
“Stay here,” he ordered.
This room wasn’t as warm as the living area, the heat from the fire lingering in the outside room and leaving a chill in the air. A match snapped, the instant flash of light bouncing off the cabin wall where Marcus brought the stick to the candlewick. The faint scent of sulfur carried back to her as Becki waited, curling up on the soft quilt covering the mattress.
Two candles—three. Once he had a light source on every wall, he turned back to face her and her heart skipped.
So beautiful. His rugged masculinity showcased in the shadows dancing over him. He held a casual stance for a moment as he looked her over as well, giving her time to admire him.
Time to ache for him to move and do as he’d promised in the other room.
She wiggled to her knees and smoothed her hands up her body, cupping her breasts as she stared at him. His cock jerked, the semi-aroused length hardening again.
“I never told you to touch yourself,” Marcus warned.
“I’m being innovative and trying to anticipate.” She twirled the tiny rings and moaned happily. “Of course, if there’s something else you’d like me to do . . .”
Marcus stalked to the bed, and suddenly she was on her back with him over her, pinned in place with his weight, his mouth ravishing hers. She lifted her arms around his neck and held on for the ride, loving the near frantic thrusts of his tongue, the way his breathing skipped as he hauled their mouths apart to plant kisses down the length of her throat.
When he caught hold of her breast with his right hand, Becki sighed, widening her legs to allow his hips to fall to the mattress. He licked and sucked, playing with the ring, using his teeth just to the edge of pain. One side, the other, desperate hunger in his moves.
That he was reduced to such passion for her—priceless. She could only wonder and take it in. The way he made every inch of her tingle, sharp bolts of pleasure from his mouth connecting through her nipples to tug at her core. She was so wet between her legs, so wanting to have him touch her.
Yet when he moved lower, she regretted he’d gone. “No . . .”
Marcus laughed softly. “Stop complaining. Touch your breasts how you like it—I have something else to deal with right now.”
Oh God. She’d thought she was wet before? Marcus pushed her thighs wider and covered her with his mouth. No slow approach. No more warning than shifting his position and he was driving her mad. Tongue connecting with her clit, driving into her deep as he rolled one thigh up and out to give himself more room to work.
She’d been primed before. Aching from teasing him and his breast play. The first climax hit her suddenly—shocking. Hard. Made her shake and gasp for air. When he didn’t slow, she ignored her tingling breasts and drove her fingers into his hair.
To hold him in place or drag him away as she grew more sensitive, she wasn’t sure.
He was having none of it. He picked up her hips and pressed his mouth tighter, not stopping until the slow curl was building again. When his fingers pierced her body, she cried out.
So good. So what she needed. Somehow she got her feet to the mattress to find purchase, and she pulsed her hips against him, demanding what he so willingly gave. Her core stretched around a third finger as he slowed, brushing the front of her passage just right, and sparks flew in front of her eyes as another climax tore her apart.
His name was still on her lips when he rolled her, pulled her hips into the air, and drove his cock into her from behind.
She’d never been so full. So possessed. He went deep, his torso bending over her as his cock pounded in. Pulsing over sensitive nerves, refusing to let her move. A layer of sweat formed between them, the loud slaps of his thighs slamming into hers carrying to her ears. Panting breaths filled the air—hers? His? Nothing but pleasure rolling through her body, all because of him.