Page 72 of Tied Up in Riches

His palm smooths over my stomach, and I take another deep breath as my orgasm fades. Marcus’ tongue pulls from me, but his fingers show no sign of slowing down. On the next thrust, he bites into my inner thigh, his teeth sinking with the perfect pressure into my soft skin and pushing me off another cliff.

I’m conscious of the way I’m holding my breath, but I can’t breathe as a second wave of my orgasm floats through me. Nothing has ever felt like this. My grip on his hair loosens as my mind returns to the bed, to my body, as his fingers slow. My arms cross over my face, my eyes still covered by his tie, as I inhale deeply, trying to catch my breath.

He releases my thigh from his teeth and replaces it with a kiss. His lips are soft against my skin, contrasting the scratch of his facial hair against my thigh, every place we touch overwhelming me. Too sensitive for him to stay where he’s at, I twist my hips slightly to encourage him away. His chuckle is barely audible as he moves away. With my arms still folded over my face, the mattress sinks beside me, as if Marcus is laying down next to me. I shift, one hand tucking under my head and the other curled into my chest, and I turn toward him, his tie still blocking my view.

His fingers brush against my forehead as he tugs on the material, pulling it off my head and dropping it behind me. There’s still darkness, my eyes closed even though they didn’t need to be with the tie. I hesitate, afraid to open them, of what I’ll see when I do–of what I’ll feel.

Marcus’ thumb brushes across my cheek in encouragement. I let my eyes drift open. And there he is, only a few inches from my face, his flushed, his blue eyes dark in the room only lit by the small lamp in the corner behind us. They’re locked on my face. “Hi,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say.

“Hello.” He holds back a grin and instead licks his lip, letting his hand fall to my waist. “Are you okay?”

I nod. “More than.” I think. Because this is just the beginning, right? Can I ask him that? Confirm that what he said was real, and not just words in the moment? “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.” His thumb rubs over my bare hip, sending a fresh wave of arousal through me.

“Are you always that . . . I don’t know. Gentle?” That is not what I planned on asking him, but okay. I go with it. “It kind of felt like . . .”

He fills my pause with his deep voice. “Like what?”

“Like you wanted to be rougher with me.”

“I’m not typically that gentle.”

“Oh. Why were you then?”

“Because it’s what you needed.”

“But if it wasn’t?”

“If it isn’t what you need the next time, I’ll show you.”

“Next time?” I hold my breath, searching his eyes for sincerity.

“I meant what I said. I’m done with this fake shit.” He moves his hand from my hip, back to my face, brushing his thumb along my cheek. “If you are.”

“Even when we get home?”

“Which home?”

“Yours.” My heart races. “I mean, I can find my own place to live. I meant Oregon.”

He presses his lips to mine to quiet me then pulls back. “No matter where we are, I want this to be real. This is real.”

I breathe a sigh. “For me too.”

He grips the back of my head, pulling me closer and kissing my forehead. “It’s late. Are you ready for bed?”

I nod, even though for as tired as I am, I’ve never felt more awake. “Wait. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“It’s your turn.” I sit up, happy to repay the favor–excited even.

He reaches for my hand, stopping me. “Another day. There’s no rush.”

“Are you sure?” My worried eyes search him. More than I’d have to search my mind for a time when Beau made my orgasm a priority, it would be even harder for me to think of an instance where his wasn’t a necessity.

“I’m sure.” He flicks the light switch next to the bed, and the lamp turns off. The sliver of light from behind the curtains gives me just enough to watch him unbuckle his belt and kick his pants off. It registers for the first time that at some point while I was blindfolded he took off his shirt. He shimmies the comforter and top sheet from under us and lies on the mattress, in only his briefs. “Come here.” He holds his arm out, encouraging me toward him. I reach for the covers, pulling them over me as I get comfortable with my head perfectly between his shoulder and chest, and curl into him, my arm wrapping around his waist. I love this. He squeezes my shoulder, holding me close like he wants me here. I just hope when we wake in the morning he feels the same.