by Jolie Day
“Please! Oh God, please fuck me!” One of her hands left the metal bars above her head and landed on the back of Marc’s head, tugging at the hair there. She didn’t dare force him down on her, knowing that he could overpower her with little effort, but he got the message anyway and finally—finally—relented. Lauren cried out as she was practically rocketed up and over the edge, feeling her entire body tense up and then go limp as the knot in the pit of her stomach released.
This orgasm was ten times more intense than the last and Lauren soon found herself lying on her side with Marc right in front of her. He had slipped up the bed to join her at some point and she hadn’t even noticed. Now he was stroking her side and back, a lustful look on his face as he boldly cupped her ass.
“You doing okay?” he asked, his voice as rough as his hands.
Lauren nodded, coming back to herself. “You?” she asked. “How are your ribs?”
She reached down to feel his chest with a gentle hand and felt his abdomen constrict under her fingers. When she looked up to check his face to see if he was in pain, however, she found him smiling down at her.
“What?”
“Don’t you ever turn it off?” he chuckled. “The doctor thing. Aren’t you ever just…I dunno, a woman?”
“I’m always a woman,” Lauren huffed, her hand stroking his chest softly. “But I’m a doctor, too. It’s my job to worry about my patients. Especially when they take part in strenuous activity without icing their injuries.” She pressed a little harder above the place where his injured ribs should have been. “Don’t you feel that?”
“I feel every inch of you,” Marc husked against her mouth as he wrapped his arms around her, tugging her close as he turned onto his back. Lauren draped her legs on either side of him, careful not to put pressure where it might cause him too much discomfort. “But, trust me,” he continued, cupping her ass cheeks in his thick, wide hands, “pain ain’t got nothing to do with it.”
Lauren giggled as she pressed another kiss to his lips and rocked her pelvis against his, making him groan into her mouth. “Like that?” she asked. “Does that make you feel better, Mr. Kelly.”
“Mm,” Marc replied, pulling her hips more firmly upon his. “Yes, Doctor.”
“Kinky,” Lauren giggled.
“You started it.”
“True.” She reached down, feeling him hot and hard and ready for her. His skin was as soft as his entire body was firm and it was a contradiction that made her bite her lip to suppress a moan as she cursed under her breath. She inched forward until her heat was right along the shaft of his cock, stroking herself over him, teasing him like he had teased her. She could hear his growls and moans and groans, but he didn’t interfere. He didn’t attempt to pull her off of him, to turn her over and have his way with her like he’d been doing just moments prior. Instead, he allowed her to ride him.
Lauren did her best to keep from just lining him up and sinking down onto him—the way that she wanted to do so badly—and instead worked to make him as crazy as he had made her.
She realized, quite quickly, that it was not as easy as he had made it seem. All she wanted was for him to plunge himself inside of her. Based on the hint of a smile that appeared on his face, Marc Kelly knew this. He was patient, though, waiting for her stubborn streak to end; for her to give them what they both wanted, to give in and fuck him senseless.
To allow him to fuck her senseless.
It took seconds for Lauren to make the decision. She could wait no longer to have him inside her. She needed him. Now.
Her hips stilled for a long moment, her chest heaving with each breath, her breasts in full view of his hungry eyes. She watched his tongue come out, licking his lips slowly, making her insides flutter as she reached down, positioning him at her entrance. She raised herself up a little higher on her knees, changing the angle to what she knew would be pleasurable for both of them. She could feel his head nudging her clit, the heat of his shaft scorching her as she lowered herself on him, allowing him to stretch her completely. He was so big inside of her. And with her two-year celibacy, the burn that came with the stretch was so good that it was almost painful.
Almost.
Lauren led out a guttural groan of pleasure, fighting the instinct to slam herself down completely. She needed to take this slow. She needed to enjoy every second of it. She needed to remember how each inch of him felt, because who knew how long it would be before she felt the stretch of a man’s cock inside her again.
Oh, she didn’t doubt that, if Marc Kelly stayed another night or two, this would happen again. But then what about after he left? Would she feel more secure than she had before him, with any other man? Or would it go back to how it had been before? With her flinching away from men she saw on the street, even those who knew her? She didn’t want that. She wanted security. She wanted a man like Marc Kelly.
But she couldn’t have him that way. He’d made that clear.
And, as she sunk down so completely onto him that he hit bottom and their pelvises touched, adding much-needed pressure to her clit, she thought that, perhaps, this was enough. A few more nights with a man inside of her was exactly what she needed before she sealed herself off to intimacy for the rest of her days. One more night of a man making her feel the way only a man can.
One more night of security.
Lauren let her mind go blank as she began to move, feeling the head of Marc’s cock brush against that spot deep inside of her. Now was not the time to worry, she decided, rocking back and forth, allowing her breasts to swing in his face until Marc leaned in, wrapping his talented mouth around one dusky, pert nipple. Now was just the time to feel.
And enjoy it while it lasted.
****
Afterward, they lay on their backs next to one another, the sheets pushed down to rest just over their hips, covering their bottom halves but leaving the top bare to the warm air that fluttered in through the window. In early August, nights were still warm but not as humid and unbearable as the dead of summer, when Lauren would need the blast of ice cold air from the AC just to fall asleep.
Marc’s body was cooling beside her, their shoulders brushing with every heavy exhale. Sweat still glistened on their bodies. The space between Lauren’s legs was pleasantly sore. She could feel the bruises from his fingers beginning to form on her hips and the hickeys he’d left on her neck. She’d left a few marks of her own on his skin and the thought made her smile.
She didn’t think she’d ever be comfortable with marking somebody else—or being marked by somebody else—ever again. But with Marc Kelly, it felt so right.
“You doing alright?” he asked. She turned her head, furrowing her brow at him. “Your breathing is a little heavy.” She opened her mouth with a smart retort on the tip of her tongue and he shook his head. “Stop,” he chuckled. “I just meant…heavier than it should be. Considering…”
She nudged his shoulder. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” she husked, turning to nip at his ear lobe, before pulling back. “I am the doctor, after all.”
“And a very good one at that,” Marc teased. “Remind me to leave you a good review on Yelp.”
Lauren snorted and nudged him again.
“How’s your knee?” she asked, after a long moment. “Is it sore yet? You spent a lot of time on it.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Yours,” Lauren huffed.
“Oh really? Because I seem to remember a certain somebody begging me to keep eating her out. In fact, I do believe I still have the claw marks on my back to prove it.” He turned his back to her. “How deep are they, Doc? Am I gonna need stitches?”
“Not quite,” Lauren laughed, sitting up. “But let me get you some ice before you start to really feel your injuries. Or else you won’t be able to walk in the morning.”
“I think that’s more a reflection of your skills than my injuries,” Marc murmured, folding his arms under his head, but Lauren could see the way he
moved; carefully, cautiously. The bruise over his ribs was a deep purple now. His knee was probably worse.
She stood, stretching her pleasantly sore body and pulled the sheet along with her, leaving him bare on her bed. Unashamed, he looked evenly into her eyes after he caught her gazing over the delicious naked form. Her gaze paused on his knee, confirming what she already knew. His injured knee was swollen so much she wasn’t even sure he’d be able to bend it, let alone walk on it.
His face didn’t betray any discomfort; only satisfaction at her sheet clad form.
Lauren allowed her hips to swing as she exited the room, opening the door to find Emma in the hallway, laying down just outside. Her tail thumped on the floor at the sight of her master and Lauren reached down, stroking her behind the ear. “Good girl,” she murmured as she walked past her loyal pet.
In the kitchen, she grabbed a towel and filled it with ice, tying the ends to make a pouch. On her way back to the bedroom, she turned off the lights, leaving their empty dinner plates where they lay. She could get to them in the morning, before she left for work. She doubted that Marc would do anything, even without his current injuries.
When she got back to the bedroom, she found Emma laying in the corner, in the bed that she had bought the dog when she first came to live there. She never used that bed, always preferring to sleep in the bed with Lauren. But seeing Marc in her spot must have clued her in on how things would be that night.
Lauren climbed back into bed, crawling up so that she sat at Marc’s hip, facing his injured knee. “Can you bend it?” she asked.
“I’ve never tried,” Marc retorted, looking decidedly north of his knee, “but I’m gonna go ahead and say no.”
Lauren scoffed and shook her head. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
Marc laughed and lifted his leg, letting out a soft hiss. “Nope,” he said. “Can barely move it without feeling some kind of vicelike pressure around it. You sure that ice is gonna help it?”
“It’s going to have to,” Lauren sighed, placing it delicately onto his knee. “I don’t have anything else at my disposal.”
“Seriously? No painkillers?”
“Only the over-the-counter kind,” she admitted. “And they’re going to do next to nothing for this. You need to go see a doctor.”
“Good thing I’m in bed with one.”
“I meant at a hospital,” Lauren laughed. “There’s one in the city. I could—”
“No,” Marc grunted, pulling himself up the bed until he was propped up against the pillows. “I told you, I don’t do cities.”
“Then you’ll have to come to the clinic with me in the morning,” Lauren countered. “If the swelling isn’t significantly down by then, you’re going to have to get an X-ray. You’re lucky that they have a machine where I work. Otherwise there would be nothing to stop me from driving you straight to the city hospital.”
“As if you could lift me,” Marc scoffed.
“I’m a lot stronger than I look.”
He was silent for a long moment and Lauren got the notion that, for the first time, he actually saw the scars all over her body and recognized what they meant. He nodded, slowly.
“I’m starting to see that,” he said, low in his throat. There was a look of something in his eyes for half a second. But it was gone so quickly that Lauren was sure she had imagined it.
No feelings, a voice that sounded a lot like Marc’s said in the back of her head. Just sex.
She sighed, internally, and laid back down, feeling the warmth of his body against her side.
“Keep the ice on your knee for thirty minutes,” she instructed, turning on her side away from him, “then switch to your ribs. It’ll bring down the swelling all over.”
“Thanks for the advice, Doc,” Marc retorted, with laughter in his voice. Silence, then, “Good night.”
“Night,” Lauren replied, keeping her voice as casual and emotion-free as possible as she closed her eyes and willed her breathing to even out.
She dreamt of him that night.
Chapter Four
When he woke up, his chest was damp. Looking down, he saw the damp towel from last night laying there, atop the sheet. It had been too cold to keep directly against his skin, but now the chill was gone. The water was warm and leaking out all over his abdomen.
Without thinking, Marc lifted himself up and attempted to climb off the bed, hissing in pain as he put pressure on his bad knee. Looking down, he saw the purplish-blue bruises covering the joint and winced. He attempted to place pressure on it again, more slowly this time, and found that he could stand, but not as well as he’d been able to the day before.
Limping through the bedroom, he stepped over the dog and into the attached bathroom, tossing the towel into the sink and making his way to the toilet to relieve himself. Once finished, he stood for a while at the mirror, looking over the stubble on his jaw. It had been a while since his last shave. He debated pulling one of Lauren’s extra razors out, and whatever sweet-smelling shaving cream she used, to clean up what he had now.
But then he remembered the way she had gasped his name when he rubbed his sandpaper cheeks against the softness of her belly, her breasts, and he decided that it could wait a few more days. Instead, he brushed his teeth and turned off the lights, limping back into the bedroom and doing his best to ignore the pain that vibrated up his leg.
Lauren was still sleeping, her bedside clock flashing 5:50 next to her. She’d said the day before that she had to wake up early for work, so he decided to let her sleep until her alarm went off. There was a frown on her face as he padded past the bed on his way to the kitchen, but he ignored it in favor of searching for coffee and filters.
He found both in a cabinet above the sink. He pulled them down and went through the motions. In his old place, he’d basically lived on the instant stuff and whatever was on sale at the local market. Usually nonperishable foods, in case he had to get on the road with the gang. And Veronica.
The thought of the younger woman sent a shiver down his spine. He’d never had many romantic feelings for the girl. She was barely legal and reckless—the way that young people should be—but she was a whole lotta fun. He knew how stupid it was to be lured in by her big emerald eyes and long red hair, but he was a man and she was a smoking hot woman, with wide hips and a great rack. He didn’t even care that the only reason she was ‘in love’ with him was to piss off her father and get out of an arranged marriage with a man with balls the size of a hamster’s.
As hot as she was, though, she didn’t hold a candle to the woman currently wrapped up in sheets in the next room. He wondered if Lauren Stanton knew how hot she was. If she was aware that she could have any man wrapped around her pinky finger in an instant. Because she could. He could see that now.
The next few days were going to be a whole lot of fun.
But, as hot as Lauren was, Marc found his mind going to the scars that lined her body. They’d been hard to see in the dark last night, but he could feel the slightly raised lines, like tattoos, all across her body. They were evenly spaced and ran the width of her torso, from hip to hip. There were no marks on her breasts, but there were about three scars along her collarbone. They were all faded and white, much lighter than her tan skin, changing color only when she flushed in embarrassment or intense pleasure.
He'd seen plenty of pink lines last night.
He’d had to suppress the urge to ask her how she got them. It was none of his business, whatsoever. Still, he wanted to know: had she done that to herself? Or had somebody else done that to her? Were they old scars from a tragic childhood?
Or was it something much worse?
He jumped at the sound of a loud beeping noise and held his chest with a deep sigh. That must have been Lauren’s alarm. He waited for her to reach out to turn it off and come out to join him. He searched the cupboards for cups as he awaited the silence and her soft murmur of ‘good morning.’ He hoped that she’d still be wearing t
he sheet when she entered the kitchen. He wanted nothing more than to take her on the dining room table.
Morning was one of life’s greatest pleasures, in his opinion.
But the alarm continued to go off, even as he located the mugs and poured them each some coffee.
Marc dropped the mugs off on the counter as he made his way back to the bedroom. She must have been in quite a deep sleep if she was ignoring her alarm like this. He smiled to himself, thinking that last night’s activities probably tired her out. She’d probably have trouble walking once she did finally get up.
Stopping in the doorway, he opened his mouth to call out to her, but when he saw the way Lauren was tossing and turning, and heard the way she was whimpering as she did so, he paused and frowned at her sleeping body. Her eyes were closed tighter than they had been just a few moments ago and her mouth was twisted up, almost in pain.
“Hey,” he called to her, his voice too low to penetrate her dreams. He stepped closer, knocking on the wood of her door, the sound echoing around the dark room. “Hey, are you awake?” She didn’t respond, her hands clutching the pillow next to where she slept; the pillow he had been using just ten minutes earlier. He watched as she seemed to attempt to rip the pillow apart, before tossing it at the wall.
It hit the corner with a soft thump, then fell atop the golden retriever’s head, startling her out of her slumber. The dog stood and shook herself a bit, before she seemed to realize that her master was in distress. She trotted to the end of the bed and began to bark, the sounds almost keeping beat with the alarm clock, the two blending together in a rhythm that was almost like music.
Finally, Lauren’s eyes popped open and she sat straight up in bed, breathing heavily as her hand pressed against her chest. For a second she hunched over, attempting to catch her breath. Then, as if realizing her state of dress for the first time, she looked up, her eyes locking on Marc’s tatted and bruised form. The look on her face turned to one of utter and complete terror. Her mouth opened wide and he knew that she was going to scream before the sound was even out of her mouth.