Untamed (New York Heirs #1.5)

by Drea Blackery

  Then he bent down to suck one into his mouth.

  “Oh, Jesus…” I arched into him helplessly, sinking my fingers into his hair to hold him closer against my chest.

  Marlon groaned softly as he suckled and lashed his tongue over my nipple. His other hand went back to my pussy, stroking with me there with his finger.

  I’d pleasured myself before, but none of that compared to Marlon’s expert teasing as he coated me with my own wetness, building the flames into a blistering burn.

  “Let go for me.” He slipped his finger inside me and curled it.

  “Yes,” I breathed. My nails dug into the covers, and my knees drew up instinctively to let him go deeper. Uncontrollable moans built at the back of my throat, and my hips began to rise to meet his hand.

  Marlon’s breathing became unsteady. His jaw clenched tight as he worked his finger inside me, curling and thrusting rhythmically.

  The massive bulge of his erection ground against my thigh, but it wasn’t enough. He still had his pants on, and I wanted every inch of his skin against mine.

  My fingers scraped at his abs, trying to grasp his waistband. “Take it off.”

  Marlon gave a strained laugh. “Easy, Emmaline. We have all night.”

  “I want it now.” I swallowed. “Please.”

  His eyes gleamed. “Since you begged…” He eased back, taking his pants off as he watched my face.

  Oh, god. I couldn’t help but stare when they finally came off.

  I had seen guys before in porn, but Marlon belonged on a different plane altogether. His erection was a shade darker than the rest of his tanned body, the length of it so thick and aroused that it pressed up against his abs. Precum beaded at the slit, threatening to drip down his shaft.

  Marlon moved to straddle me on the bed, trapping my waist between his knees. A cocky smile played in the corner of his lips. He knew exactly how good he looked, and how much I liked it.

  Then his smile faded when I reached out to wrap my fingers around his cock. Air hissed through his clenched teeth, but he held himself rock still.

  “Is this good?” I looked up at Marlon uncertainly.

  His brows were drawn. “Yes. Very—” he cleared his throat, “—very good.”

  I tightened my fingers around him and slid them down to the base of his shaft.

  Marlon’s hips jerked in reflex and he thrust his cock into my hand. His biceps swelled and his solid abs clenched with tension. The sharp lines looked like it could cut.

  Encouraged, I rubbed my thumb over the slick head and spread the moisture that had gathered there.

  Then I pumped my hand again.

  “Shit.” Marlon tipped forward and grasped my shoulders painfully. His expression was tight, his nostrils flaring. “Keep going.”

  I bit my lip and began to work my hand, feeling the velvet smoothness of his cock sliding up and down over the hard steel underneath. God, just watching him made me even wetter. I loved being the one in control for once.

  Marlon gave a harsh curse, and his hips quickened as he plunged his erection in and out of my moving hand. His fingers dug into my shoulders as he dropped his forehead to the mattress beside me, thrusting like he couldn’t get enough.

  “Fuck, Emma,” he rasped at my ear. “You’re so fucking good…”

  My arm muscles throbbed from exertion, but it wasn’t something that bothered me. I could go on and on. I tightened my fingers around his thick length, masturbating him so fast I practically vibrated his cock.

  Marlon panted, his breaths coming hard through his parted lips as he fucked my hand. “Oh shit, yes. Yes.”

  Out of instinct, my other hand reached out to caress his balls, which were drawn up against his body.

  “Fuck!” Marlon suddenly shot back and grabbed my wrists, wrenching them away from his body.

  He looked stunned, his sweat-slicked chest rising and falling as he stared down at me like he had never seen me before.

  “What the fuck?” he breathed.

  ***

  My lungs worked as I drew in deep lungfuls of air. Emma had stroked me so well that I’d almost come in her hands.

  She bit her lip. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I swallowed against my dry throat. “It was too good.”

  Emma didn’t look like she believed me, so I eased over her again, careful not to brush my swollen cock against her. I felt ready to blow at any moment, but this was her first time, and I needed it to be good for her.

  Just this morning we had been in the same position in the college gym, sparring as friends. I couldn’t imagine going back to that, not when I could have Emma like this.

  I parted her thighs again, taking in her pink pussy, the little strip of dark blonde hair there.

  “You’re pretty everywhere,” I said in a ragged voice.

  I dragged a finger over her clit.

  Emma gasped and arched her hips up to meet me. “When are you going to…?”

  “Soon.” I slid two fingers into her, easing them in. She was so tight that I had to go slowly, even though she was soaking wet. Once she was used to the intrusion, I added a third finger.

  “This okay?” I watched her face for signs of pain. “You’ll need to get used to this at least, or you won’t be able to take my cock.”

  Emma clenched her teeth, shifting again. It was too much for her, so I curled my fingers the way I now knew she liked.

  She moaned then, the sexy sound making my cock ache even more.

  “That’s it.” I began thrusting my fingers in and out of her, slowly speeding up in time to her sounds. “Let go for me.”

  “Marlon,” she panted, her head tossing as I finger-fucked her. “Now…?”

  “Come for me first. It’ll hurt less when I go into you.”

  Emma shook her head stubbornly, wrapping her legs around my waist. “I want you now.”

  Stubborn, strong girl. I braced one forearm by her head and lowered to take her lips in a deep kiss. With my other hand, I positioned my cock just outside her swollen lips, not touching her yet. I could feel her heat on me, and shit, it almost made me come.

  “This may hurt,” I said in a ragged voice.

  Emma looked determined as she tightened her thighs around me and pulled hard, forcing our bodies together. The head of my cock slipped against her wet pussy.

  I groaned. “Fuck, Emma…”

  “More,” she breathed, pulling me in again.

  “It’ll hurt—”

  “I want it to hurt.” She stared up at me with blue eyes that were too bright. “Please.”

  I couldn’t deny her.

  I wanted her just as much.

  In a single surge, I thrust myself all the way into her, seating my cock deep into her pussy.

  Emma cried out in pain, her nails digging into my back so hard that it drew blood. Her pussy was so hot and tight around me that I wanted to move, to fuck, but I forced myself to hold still for her.

  “You okay?” I gritted.

  Emma blinked away her tears, nodding several times. “Yeah.”

  She had cried a lot tonight, I realized. More than I had seen in the six years I’d known her.

  “Don’t.” I brushed her tears away with my thumb. “I’m here.”

  Emma squeezed her eyes shut and lifted her face to me. I kissed her again, and she tasted sweet and innocent and fierce, everything I loved about her.

  Soon her pussy tightened around my cock, and I began to move. I thrust into her carefully, then faster when her soft moans grew louder.

  Our bodies moved together perfectly, and it was like nothing I ever had before. Emma was giving herself to me, but with every thrust inside her, I knew I was giving myself to her too.

  Then suddenly Emma opened her blue eyes.

  She had that look again, the one that told me she loved me.

  “Say it for me.” I cupped her face in my hands. “I want to hear it.”

  Emma gazed back at me with unshed tears. “Te am
o.”

  Fuck. I crushed my mouth to hers urgently.

  Those sweet words did something to me, and my thrusts became faster, deeper. I wanted to possess every inch of her, wanted her body to be mine just like her heart was.

  “Eu gosto tanto de você,” I found myself whispering to her.

  Emma didn’t hear me. Her pussy tightened as she wrapped her arms and legs around my torso. “Yes,” she panted. “Yes, yes...”

  I groaned as I pumped in and out. “You’re so fucking tight…”

  Her gasps soon became loud moans, and her eyes glazed over with pleasure. I knew that she was losing herself in the sex, aware only of the place where my cock was fucking her.

  Her arms loosened from my neck and fell back, but her legs tightened on my waist, trying to hold my cock inside her pussy as she squeezed me.

  “Em, if you keep doing this I’ll come inside you,” I said through my clenched teeth.

  She didn’t hear me again. I was strong, but then so was she, and I had to forcibly hold her hips still as I fucked her.

  “I can’t…” she panted, her eyes glazed. “It’s too good…”

  “You can.” I pinned her down into the mattress and slammed into her pussy again and again, the sex feeling so fucking good that my vision glazed. “Come for me, Emma.”

  “Marlon...” Emma tossed her head back as her pussy squeezed my cock like a fist. “Oh god, oh fucking Jesus—”

  She screamed as her body arched off the bed, climaxing so hard that I could feel her pussy clenching around my cock. I gritted my teeth as I held still in her and forced myself not to come, letting her use me all she wanted.

  Emma moaned and ground her pussy against me, greedy for every second of pleasure.

  When she finally fell back into the bed, I pulled out. I took my swollen cock in my hand and pumped it hard once, twice, then—

  “Fuck!” I yelled as I jerked my hips and began to come, shooting hot ropes of cum across Emma’s stomach and breasts. Emma watched me with wide eyes, and that just made me come even harder.

  When I was done, I collapsed beside her on the bed, breathing harder than I could remember. It felt like my balls were turned inside out.

  This was the closest I’d ever come to spilling before I planned to, and it wasn’t just because Emma had been squeezing me so well.

  It had something to do with her.

  “Shit.” I wore a stupid grin on my face. “Shit, Emmaline, that was fucking amazing. Was it good for you?”

  “Yeah,” came her soft reply.

  I traced the fine curves of her ear with a finger, smiling at how small it was. “I tried to go slow. Did it hurt?”

  “No.”

  Something in her tone made me frown.

  Emma was breathing hard, her face and skin pink from the sex, but her voice was flat.

  “What’s wrong?” I eased up on my elbow to look at her, but Emma just kept her gaze at the ceiling.

  “Everything.”

  That single word was a punch to my stomach.

  “You’re regretting it,” I said numbly.

  “I don’t. It was everything I wanted.”

  Emma didn’t look at me as she sat up. My cum across her breasts began dripping down her body, and she took my bedcovers and wiped all traces of it away without a word.

  Something was very wrong.

  I sat up beside her and took her arm. “Em, talk to me.”

  “I only have one question.” Emma tossed the bedcovers aside and raised her haunted blue eyes to me. “Do you love me?”

  “What?” I shook my head, lost for words at the sudden question. “I—”

  “Yes or no, Marlon.”

  Emma’s expression was unreadable, but I knew that she was hurting. I stared hard at her, running her words through my head.

  Did I love her?

  The answer that came to me immediately was yes.

  But did I truly? Like Freida said, I didn’t know what love was. I couldn’t lie to Emma, not when I knew how important this was to her.

  So I told her the only thing I could be sure of.

  “I care for you.”

  That was the wrong answer. Emma’s beautiful blue eyes turned dull, like I had stripped them of their light.

  “Fuck, Em.” I took her chin urgently and tipped her expressionless face to me. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong, I’ll fix it.”

  Emma shook her head, her empty gaze looking like a doll’s. “You can’t.”

  She pushed at my chest and got up from the bed. Then she picked her clothes off my floor and strode to my door.

  My brows drew together. “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll be in my room. Just… don’t talk to me for a while. Please.” She turned into the hallway and went back to her bedroom, gently shutting her door behind her.

  Then she turned the lock.

  Shit.

  I got up and yanked on my sweatpants, then went to her door and knocked softly. “Em.”

  “Leave me alone,” her muffled voice came.

  She was shutting me out again, without even an explanation of why.

  I cursed and leaned my forehead against her door. The barrier between us was only two inches thick, but right now it felt like two thousand miles.

  “We’ll talk tomorrow,” I told her through the door. “But there’s one thing you need to know, Emmaline. You gave your heart to me. I’m not fucking giving it back.”

  The moment I locked the door behind me, I got into the shower to rinse off the traces of blood and sex from my body. The twinge between my thighs reminded me of the line I crossed with Marlon, and how we could never go back.

  I closed my eyes, letting the steaming water thunder down on my back.

  If I woke up tomorrow and pretended that everything was okay, maybe things would go back to normal. Marlon would ruffle my hair and tease me as usual, and we could agree to put this behind us like a forgotten dream.

  But I knew I was done pretending. It was time for me to do what I should have done the first time I looked into Marlon’s heartbreaking hazel eyes.

  I shut off the water and towelled myself dry. After getting dressed, I returned to my room and pulled two duffel bags from under my bed and tossed them on the mattress. I threw open the doors to my wardrobe, took my clothes out, and shoved them into the bags.

  Then I picked up my phone and dialled the number of the last person who called me.

  She answered after several rings. “Emmaline?”

  “Freida, I need your help.”

  “Oh!” Faint club music played in the background—she must have gone to an employee stairwell. “Yes, of course. What is it?”

  “I need you to call Marlon and tell him there’s a fire at the club.”

  There was a stunned pause on the other end.

  “A what? But why!”

  “I slept with him,” I said simply.

  A gasp and a Portuguese curse came from the other end. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, but I need a distraction to get him out of the house.” I inhaled. “I’m leaving.”

  “Meu Deus. He’ll be so angry—”

  “Tell him I made you do it. Can you help me?”

  Freida hesitated, unwilling to betray Marlon.

  “Y-yes,” she finally said. “I’ll call him now. And Emmaline?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Be safe.”

  “Thanks,” I said softly.

  I ended the call, turned out the lights, sat on the bed with my bags and waited.

  A minute later, I heard the front door open and slam shut again.

  Marlon was gone.

  I turned the lights back on, took my bags, and escaped down to the back entrance of our building. I got onto the next cab that came by.

  “Lancaster Hotel, please,” I told the driver.

  It was an expensive place, but I’d stashed away money over the years for an emergency. I figured running away from everything I had known in the past six
years was it.

  I turned in the back seat to watch as the apartment building grew smaller in the rear window. Heat stung at my eyes when it finally disappeared behind a cluster of skyscrapers.

  It was cowardly to run behind Marlon’s back, but I needed to be away from him if I wanted to stop loving him.

  A few minutes later, my phone began to vibrate.

  I swallowed and pulled it out from my pocket. I already knew who it was, but seeing Marlon’s cocky grin in the photo on the call screen made my nose sting all over again.

  I quickly rejected his call and turned off my phone.

  You’re doing the right thing, I told myself, staring down at my wan reflection in the dark screen. He wouldn’t have let you go.

  The taxi pulled up at the hotel soon after, and I quickly checked in at the warmed marble lobby.

  Only after I got into the hotel room and bolted the door behind me did I relax, letting my bags slide off my shoulders as I sagged against the wall.

  It was only hours since my kiss with Marlon in the van, but it already seemed like days. I felt like a wrung out dishcloth.

  Feeling more exhausted than I had ever been in my life, I stumbled to the bed, shed my clothes and crawled under the covers.

  Then I closed my eyes and let sleep claim me.

  I was jolted awake sometime later, feeling a split second of panic at my unfamiliar surroundings until I recalled that I was in the hotel room. A bleary glance at the LED clock on the nightstand told me it was six in the morning, just over an hour since I arrived.

  Then I groggily registered the sharp rapping at my door. That must have been what woke me up.

  Swearing, I pulled a pillow over my head to drown it out, hoping that whoever it was—room service, or whatever—would give up and leave.

  The knocking only grew more persistent, pounding like jackhammers in my sleep-deprived brain.

  Swearing under my breath, I kicked the covers off me and shoved to my feet. I grabbed a robe from the wardrobe and yanked it on with jerky movements, then I strode to the door and flung it open.

  There stood Marlon da Silva, looming over me and looking more pissed off than I’d ever seen him.

  “Shit!” I quickly moved to shut the door.

  Marlon caught the edge of it in his hand, never taking his furious gaze off me.