by Sosie Frost
If I couldn’t fuck her, I’d taste her instead.
“Marius…” Gretchen nearly cracked her head off the table. She covered her eyes, unwilling to watch as I rewarded her for admitting that sinful desire. “That’s amazing…”
More than amazing.
This woman had no idea that she was my delicious treat—a well-deserved moment of sweetness for a sailor who had been through more than enough shit. The leg. The surgeries. The pain.
I’d lost myself somewhere after the accident, but I knew where to find the old me—the Marius Payne with convictions, plans, a mission.
I’d find it in her.
Gretchen had offered herself to me in gratitude, but there was a reason I was on my knees—knee—thanking her. She’d given me more than the hottest pussy I’d ever tasted, sexiest secrets I’d ever heard, and most tempting innocence I’d ever possessed.
She’d made me feel…
Alive.
Alive. Whole. And hungry for more.
I sunk deeper into her, my tongue lashing her every slick fold. Gretchen demanded more than a willful, determined lick. She ground against my lips, body arching to submit to the pleasure. Sweet enough for dessert, intoxicating enough to blur my vision. She bit her lip, gripped the table, and tensed her perfect legs. Rocking. Squirming. As if she’d never felt such delight before.
No surprise there—no man delivered pleasure like me.
Her slickness burned, and Gretchen’s every heavy breath echoed a quiet whimper into the night.
“Marius…” Her voice cracked. “I don’t… I’ve never…”
Enough talk. I wanted moans.
I nibbled her clit, gave it a solid, crippling suck, and gripped her legs as she attempted to buck me away. A devilish, all-consuming orgasm cracked through her body, racking her from head to toe in silencing shivers. With a quiet plea, she attempted to roll away. Wasn’t having that. She wouldn’t hide that delicious cream from my tongue. I pinned her to the table, deliberately seizing another lap of her quivering slit.
Then I went back for me.
I wasn’t a greedy man. I just took what was mine.
This woman belonged to me. And before the night was out, I’d prove it to her—again and again.
I chuckled as Gretchen pleaded with me. The poor girl couldn’t cope with an orgasm. She shook, sweated, squirmed. Attempted to escape.
But she had nowhere to run. Sooner she realized, the better.
“Please…” Her legs clamped shut. I laughed as the shudder parted them once more, exposing a deliriously hot pussy eager for another taste. The crash of pleasure wavered her voice. “Need…to breathe…”
“I should fuck you.” I didn’t recognize the growl in my voice. She responded to it. Aching. Her lips parted in a begging breath. “I should hold you down and bury myself inside of you. I should fuck you until you beg me to stop, and then I should fuck you again until you realize you were made for coming on this cock.”
Gretchen’s eyes widened. So goddamned innocent. So beautiful.
So eager to be ravished and corrupted.
Her bravery was limited, but she breathed the question with a quiet sigh. “Why don’t you?”
Because I didn’t trust myself.
Because I didn’t trust what I would do with her.
Because I didn’t trust I’d stop before it ruined everything.
Or made it right.
I didn’t want to fuck. A quick night and forgettable morning was wasted on a woman like Gretchen. Why waste the opportunity to have her begging me, gripping me, holding me tight? This was a woman who’d eagerly submit to me, who’d lock her legs around my waist as I bottomed out inside that tightness.
A woman who’d come as I emptied every last ounce of seed inside her womb.
The animal in me wouldn’t be sated with a quick jerk of my cock and wasted potential on a mattress. I’d come inside her or not at all, and I’d have to do it right. When I wasn’t crippled by phantom pains in a non-existent leg or the claustrophobia raking my brain.
“You’re gonna owe me.” I licked her cream from my lips and left her with a sensual warning. “You’re gonna beg for me. When I fuck you, I’m gonna hear it in your voice, see it in your face, feel it in your panties. The next time you come to me, I want you on your knees, ready and waiting.”
Gretchen dared me with a sweet smile. She propped onto her elbows, words husky with desire. “If you leave me now, what makes you think there’ll be a next time? Maybe I just got everything I needed?”
Little liar. “I’m not finished with you, sweetness. You got off, but you didn’t get taken. You weren’t fucked. You weren’t mounted and ravished like an animal. And if you’re satisfied with only my tongue, if you think that’s all you can handle, you better tell me now, little girl.”
She smiled. “I’ll try anything once.”
“One fuck with me isn’t enough.”
“Then prove it.” She wiggled against the table. “Or are you afraid you can’t handle me?”
No, I was afraid one night would lead to nine months of perfect mistake.
Gretchen shouldn’t have baited me. Shouldn’t have tempted.
I’d break her.
I’d pick her up, slam her down on my cock, and use her like a goddamned toy to get off.
She’d love it, of course. But she wasn’t ready for that. Wasn’t ready for me. Wasn’t ready to give that part of herself to a man she didn’t yet understand.
“You’re just torturing yourself.” She crossed her arms behind her head, stretching her curves and teasing me with those perfect breasts. Her eyes darted to the tent in my pants. “That’s gotta hurt.”
“I’m used to pain.” I backed away from the table before the primal instinct destroyed my resolve. “Besides, I like that you’re in my debt.”
“And how does a man like you expect to be repaid?”
Like any other man—a night of fun and the pounding of flesh.
I slipped her panties into my pocket. “I’m taking these as a trophy.”
Gretchen hummed. “Not nearly as fun as the real thing.”
No shit. “They’ll look good next to the bra.”
“Jokes on you.” She giggled. “Nothing looks good with that bra.”
Nothing except her dark, perfect skin. “Remember, sweetness. You owe me.”
Gretchen took the challenge. She sat up, crossed those beautiful legs, and licked her lip. “Just name the date and time, sailor.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I backed away from the porch. Somehow. Most of my blood wasn’t in my head, making the night dizzy, foggy with the scent of her.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Why was I lying to her?
I might’ve convinced myself that I’d walked away to protect her, to prevent me from acting like a savage animal as I fucked my frustrations, anguish, and desires out of an innocent girl, but it wasn’t the truth.
I wasn’t going to ruin a woman like Gretchen. Someone so sweet, caring, and beautiful deserved more than…
Me.
What could I give her? A fuck? An orgasm? Some dirty words?
I wasn’t healed yet.
My life was a waste of trauma and pain.
The last thing I wanted to do was inflict the same misery on her that life had fucked into me. I wasn’t the man of her dreams. No Prince Charming or perfect lover. What could I offer a woman who would be my own salvation? Why would I ruin that sweetness?
Life had saddled me with a permanent companion in misery.
So why was I walking away from the one woman who might have made me happy?
6
Gretchen
Ironfield Renaissance Hotel
Tonight – 8:00
Blouse/Skirt.
When in Marius Payne’s debt, a girl had limited options as to her menu and attire when expected to fulfill her obligations.
Not that I minded.
Marius had said nothing about
wearing underwear.
He also hadn’t texted the location and time as a question—it was a command. Which meant owing anything to this man was probably dangerous. Even stupid.
About as dumb as offering myself to him, stripping naked, and admitting my every deepest, darkest fantasy.
So much for waiting for the right man and falling in love with a soulmate. I’d never acted so…slutty with anyone before. Hell, I’d never wanted to get down and dirty with anyone before.
Until Marius.
It was official. My life had gone wrong. But somehow, someway, I tricked myself into believing Marius could fix it.
So, I’d been fired from my one stable job, had nearly been arrested for a drunken prank I couldn’t remember, and almost lost my dog to a vengeful peacock fetishist. At least Marius had given me the orgasm of a lifetime. That memory alone could keep me warm for a couple of more nights.
That is, until he gave me a better memory.
Maybe Marius wasn’t the man of my dreams, but I could have a hell of a lot of fun with him before I went to sleep.
Unfortunately, I’d gotten stuck in Butterpond, chasing a dozen stubbornly persistent geese from the municipal pond. No time to take his call at 7:30 or to answer his demanding voicemail for me to call him back asap. Figured he’d rather get the good stuff done in person.
His chosen hotel was the fanciest in Ironfield, a classy place with a restaurant on its first level that didn’t just serve stale Cheerios for breakfast. No wonder he’d wanted me dressed up for a night on the town. But I wasn’t a blouse type. I picked a sundress—bumblebee yellow. The strappy heels gave me an extra two inches, and the flower I’d tucked into my hair completed the ensemble. Cute as a button, and no one would ever know I’d ditched the panties in the car.
Well, someone would know.
Why did women worry so much about a lucky dress when going commando guaranteed a good night?
I met Marius in the hotel lobby with an amused smile. Gone were the ratty t-shirt and jeans. Marius had dressed up for our night together. Slacks. A button-up shirt.
Poor guy. The clothes didn’t suit him. His shirt stretched tight against his muscles, and one good Hulk flex would split the material right up the middle. His barrel chest strained the buttons, and the bulge in his pants? Full display. He wasn’t even excited. Just…
Huge.
Remarkably, unrepentantly large.
Holy moly—what had I gotten myself into? And, more importantly, could I get that into me?
Marius glanced over me, but his features darkened with a quiet frustration. “I told you—skirt and blouse.”
He was awfully particular about this booty call. Did it matter what I wore? Not like we’d need clothes once we hit the hotel room.
“I hoped you’d like this more.” I gave him a twirl. “Shows a little more skin.”
“Yeah,” he grunted. “That’s what worries me.”
“And here I thought you’d appreciate it. You’ve already seen what I have to offer.” I hummed. “Well, some of it. There are plenty more secrets for you to discover…given the opportunity.”
Marius frowned. “Sweetness, you’re here because you owe me. And you better play along, you understand?”
Damn. He was serious about his role play. “I’m all yours, sailor.”
“Then act the part. You’re mine. From this moment forward, we’re together. And you better make everyone believe it.”
Whoa.
He grabbed my hand. Even that excited me. I suppressed a naughty shiver. What was it about this man that made a single touch so utterly sinful?
An easy answer to a stupid question.
Marius Payne was nothing short of the devil.
I was not the only woman he’d invited to this booty call.
A blonde sat at our table, waving as Marius led me through the restaurant. He might have been a pig, but he had good tastes. The woman turned every man’s head in the restaurant, watching as she shimmied in her expensive, designer dress and sipped her Chardonnay. She stood as I approached, gently dabbing her crimson lips with a napkin. Pouty, silicon puffed lips.
My shoes turned to stone, and I nearly stumbled into my seat. The woman graciously ignored my clumsiness and leaned over the table to offer her hand.
Jesus. Her cleavage nearly extinguished the candle centerpieces.
Marius had a type, I’d give him that. Tall. Leggy. Ninety percent tits. I wouldn’t find that rack on the hotel menu, that was for sure. Her dazzling smile shocked me into silence, but Marius squeezed my hand. He pulled out my chair with a wolfish grin, etching into the hard-worn corners of his face.
“Remember.” Marius whispered, his voice a tease. “You owe this to me.”
He had to be joking.
It was a trick. A game.
No way this asshole had swept me out of the city, reserved a room in a fancy hotel…
And invited another woman to our bed.
Marius Payne expected me to participate in a threesome?
This wasn’t a booty call. It was a goddamned orgy.
And here I’d worried about his amputated leg. Had I known he’d lost his freaking mind overseas, I never would have gotten involved with the madman, no matter the favor!
Un-fucking-believable.
I stared at him, the insult stealing my voice. That was a good thing too. Nothing I had to say would sound very pleasant or classy, especially not in present company with a lady one harp and halo away from divinity.
After everything he’d done for me…after all the words he’d said and pleasure he’d offered…after all of the excitement, danger, and desperation…
Marius might have saved my dog, but that did not give him an excuse to act like one!
I shook the woman’s hand, but my eyes pinned Marius to his seat. “What—”
“We were just about to order.” Marius interrupted me by forcing a menu into my hands.
The woman nodded. “We were waiting for you to eat, but we already ordered the wine. Would you care for a glass of Chardonnay?”
Me, alcohol, and Marius made for a night of bad decisions. No way was I ordering anything around him—wouldn’t even risk fruit juice in case it fermented.
Besides, I could think of something far better to do with the wine bottle. Cracking it over his head. Shoving it up his—
“Water is fine,” I said.
The woman sipped her wine. “It’s an excellent vintage.”
I seethed, but I held it together. “That’s fine. I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying.”
Marius frowned. “But you just got here, sweetness. Thought you said you were mine for the evening.”
Good thing the heels were sharp. The better to kick him with. “Thanks, but three’s a crowd.”
The woman reached over, daring to stroke my arm. Damn. She worked quick.
“But I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” Her eyes practically memorized my every curve. “Marius has told me so much about you.”
“Funny.” I glared at him as I attacked my napkin, throttling it before setting the cloth over my lap. “He didn’t mention anything about you.”
Even the woman’s laugh was beautiful, a dainty Tinkerbell flirt. “Didn’t want to jinx it, Marius?”
He nodded. “Can’t predict how a night like this will go.”
No kidding.
“Well, don’t worry.” She winked at me. “We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other tonight.”
Whoa. I wasn’t sure I knew myself that well let alone another woman. And I did not plan to explore that aspect of my sexuality in a threesome with a man I’d thought that I could trust.
“Gretchen.” Marius gestured towards the woman. “I’d like you to meet Rachel Epson. Rachel, this is Gretchen Murphy.”
Rachel flipped her blonde locks over her shoulder. “The pleasure’s all mine.”
Yeah. That’s what worried me. “It’s…nice to meet you.”
Rachel
turned to Marius, batting eyelashes so long they’d snuff out the candles. “Oh, I can see why you wanted to hide Gretchen away.”
I hoped there was a chance she’d give me a head start to escape.
“Told you I had good taste,” he said.
“She’s everything you said and more. Have to admit, I didn’t think a man like you could wrangle a woman so charming.”
I stared at him. “Wrangle. Blackmail. Coerce. What’s the difference?”
She laughed. “Oh, that wit. No wonder he speaks so highly of you. I’m just so glad he convinced you to come.”
Marius caught my glance. “Oh, it was very easy to get her to come.”
The son of a bitch. I huffed. “It’s even easier for me to leave.”
Rachel teased the menu with her fingernails, scraping the ruby-red manicure like the entrée listing was a helpless thigh, back, or worse. “Well, let me buy you dinner first. My treat. After all, it’s so important that we get comfortable before this begins.”
How many times had she done this?
The restaurant was far too crowded for this sort of talk. I squirmed against the chair, but Marius and Rachel seemed at ease. Comfortable. Confident that they’d get everything they’d wanted and more by the end of the night.
God. Why did they want to have me?
Marius’s glance was the only reason I didn’t bolt from the table. “The sooner we get started, the better. Ask me anything, Rachel. I’m all yours.”
Funny. I had hoped that he’d be all mine.
She could have the bastard.
Rachel laughed, sultry and smooth, as she sipped her wine with pouty lips.
Why didn’t she just slip her panties off and hand them over to Marius? He’d already amassed quite the collection of lingerie from other interested parties.
“Well…” Rachel leaned closer, squeezing her cleavage to her chin. “I suppose my first question for you—my only real question—is simple. Are you sure you’re up for this?”
Seriously? I might have been inexperienced, but even I knew a man would give his last functioning leg for a chance at a threesome.
I chugged my water. Even the ice couldn’t cool me down.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, though the question seemed to offend him. “I’m absolutely up for this. I’ve got a lot to prove.”