by Elle Luckett
Neon made the streets glow in this town. As I stepped into the foot traffic, I was immediately swept up in the current, the flow guiding me deeper down the street until I was in the heart of it all. I'd been invited to a Drag Show, been begged to come and try the best hurricane in Louisiana four times in several different spots, and had several more invites to strip bars, night clubs, and a gay bar that looked like more fun than the rest of them combined.
I was also propositioned several times. Something that didn't delight me or flatter, as I was sure the intent had been. Especially when it came with a pat of hands on my ass, the third time was my signal to go home.
I was halfway back up Bourbon when the odd sensation swirled around me like a chaotic storm. The hair rose on the back of my neck, my steps coming faster, my breaths becoming shallower, and all of it too fast. Rational thought told me I was being ridiculous when there were so many people surrounding me, but instinct had me walking fast enough for it to be considered a slow run.
I dodged and weaved my way through strangers, ignoring the invitations and senses that had given me some joy only minutes earlier. My flight instinct was suddenly on max, and my rational and logical thought couldn't touch it. I couldn't even put my finger on what had set off the anxiety. The few gropes as I'd made my way down the thick crowds had been annoying but weren’t anything that had triggered me.
So what had?
The feeling stayed with me even when I burst through the last of the thick groups and onto one of the quieter side streets. Cold fingers of fear spurred me onward until I was moving toward the apartment at a slow jog in too tall a heel. Before I turned the corner to the front of the apartment building, I glanced behind me one last time at the vast sea of nothing but city, then barreled straight into a rock as I circled the corner. I bounced back, gravity pulling me down, but strong arms caught me, steadying me on my feet.
“Just the lady I was…” Mark trailed off. “What happened?”
I fought my natural instinct to fight him off and tried to find the right muscles to breathe.
“Zara?”
Holding up a finger to ask him to give me a minute, I took my first deep breath in a while, then another and another until I was somewhere close to normal. The sensation that had haunted me was now gone. I wasn't sure when it had left me, or where it had left me, but I had an enlightened idea as to why.
He was standing right in front of me.
Mark.
Somehow, in a short time, he'd moved from a possible threat to someone I was highly attracted to in every way I could be attracted to him, and then to a sign of safety and comfort. In one night together, our intimacy had translated into something more, and I was only beginning to notice it.
“Sorry,” I finally said, my hands landing flat on his chest. “I just, uh… freaked myself out.”
“What happened?”
“You ever get that weird sensation that something's going on behind you?”
He stared at me blankly.
“It was weird. The hair on the back of my neck came up, cold spots drowned me, and then the stupid panic set in. It was nothing really. Just an overreaction.”
“You felt like someone was watching you? Where?”
“Bourbon Street.” I registered the flash of those steely eyes, and I shook my head. “I just wanted to be in the middle of the noise. It was fine until… you think that was someone watching me?”
Mark stepped around me and glanced down the street I'd just come from, his shoulders tense as he kept me from stepping to his side.
“You ever felt that before?”
“Not like that.”
Mark nodded, turning to face me with a reassuring smile. “Let's get you home.”
I shrugged in agreement and leaned into the heat of Mark's body as he wrapped his arm around my waist and led me to my building. I waved to the security guard as we passed. He was the third man of the quartet who watched the foyer night and day. The familiarity of him calmed me almost as much as Mark's presence.
I was feeling more like myself when the elevator doors closed. One look at Mark's reflection had all the feelings and sensations of the night before rushing through my body. When his eyes met mine, he saw, and he reacted. A spin of our bodies had my back against the mirrored wall, while his lips found mine, the heat from his kiss chasing away any chill from my moment on the streets. The happy memories of our night together flooded through me until I had one hand pressed against his erection, and he had a hand under my skirt, trailing up between my thighs.
“Tell me this is okay,” he demanded.
“It's okay,” I grunted without hesitation, the last word on a sigh as his fingers pushed my underwear aside and thrust roughly inside of me.
A million sensations rushed through my body. Fear, panic, lust, want, and so much need it almost hurt, I could feel how wet I was for him already. He'd been so careful with me the night before. Slow and cautious, so this sudden push against the boundaries he'd set sent my head reeling. The logical thought was soon gone when he curled his fingers and stroked places inside my body he'd rooted out without much investigation. I was a slave to the pleasure he was creating, the euphoria rising so quickly I couldn't figure out if I was even breathing anymore.
Then the fucking elevator dinged, and he was gone almost as quickly as he'd been on me.
“No.”
“Yes,” he whispered, humor shining from those gray eyes as he brought his fingers to his mouth and slipped them between his lips. “You taste as good as I imagined. You ready for round two?”
“Yes.” My reply was breathless, and even as he stepped away, I stayed pressed against the wall of the elevator, unable to peel myself from it, my legs trembling at the unanswered call. When he finally offered me his hand, I took it and followed him down the hall to the apartment, where I fumbled for the keys.
If I thought I was eager, Mark met and surpassed me. He swept me into his arms the moment I achieved entry and kicked the door closed behind us, not once needing directions as he carried me to my room.
Chapter Twelve
There was a part of me that had expected Mark to take things a step further between us. In some fundamental ways, he had. Yet, even with his hunger for more, he kept things slow, and there were no complaints from me. He was becoming fluent in my body language. As though he was reading my mind, he pulled back when I began to get overwhelmed and pushed when I wasn't sure I could go further. In turn, I explored more of his body and found I was just as adept at deciphering his reactions, too. That it pleased me so much to know I was the one coaxing those groans and grunts of pleasure was something I'd never experienced before. I wanted to hear them. I wanted to know that my touch had his sole focus, and that made me eager and greedy.
When I finally rose the next morning, every muscle in my body ached, and I was glad it was my day off. I wasn't sure I would be able to move around the club much, as tender as my pussy and thighs felt. When I shuffled back out of the bathroom, every step sent a thrill through my body, and I wasn't sure I was going to manage to make it down the stairs.
I glanced toward the bed. The sight of Mark flat on his stomach made me smile. His stubble-roughened cheek was the only part of his face that was visible, and the memory of them against my thighs flared to life like he was right back where he'd been last night. The way his eyes had locked on mine as he'd licked and nibbled had been a slice of heaven.
Almost as though he felt the shift in my thoughts, Mark's eyes flickered open, and his cheek turned up, flashing his ridiculously sexy dimple at me.
“Where are you going, beautiful?”
Changing direction, I moved to my side of the bed, knelt on the mattress, and leaned my body into his. “I was going to make coffee, but you distracted me.”
“How?” he asked roughly, rolling to his side.
“I can still feel you between my legs.” My reply was more confident that I'd expected, but his answering smirk told me this had been welcome. Feel
ing brave, I pushed on his shoulder gently, forcing him to his back, and shifted to straddle his thighs as I did. “I want to feel all of you.”
Mark studied my face, his smirk never falling from his lips, even as he pushed his hands behind his head and raised a brow at me. As sexy as his attitude was, it was also infuriating. I wanted his approval. I wanted him to tell me it was the right thing. I needed him to guide me.
“Tell me what you want.”
“I…”
“Details,” he demanded.
I felt my throat tighten.
“If you can't tell me what you want, how are you going to take it?”
“Take it?”
“You're setting the pace, for now, little bird. If you want to fuck me, I am…” Mark glanced down between our bodies and smiled at his erection, “more than willing and ready. Time for you to find out if you are.”
I believed I was. My body ached at the thought of feeling him inside me, and when I glanced down at his cock, only an aching agony pulsed between my thighs.
“Take it slowly,” he encouraged me, his tone still commanding.
I nodded.
“You know what to do if you feel your panic rising?”
“Red and yellow,” I answered obediently, the response so readily available after the last forty-eight hours together.
Pulling one arm free from behind his head, Mark gripped my chin and tipped it so our eyes met. “Good girl. Now fuck me like I know you want to. Let me feel your heat around my cock. Make me come inside you. Think about my mouth on your beautiful clit, sucking, biting.” Mark dropped his arm, resting his hand under the back of his head again. His gaze dropped to where my hand had circled his erection, and my hips were rising.
“More,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “Touch me.”
“Not. Yet.” His voice still had the bark of command, but it came gentle and hoarse from his throat. He was just as turned on and needful as I was.
“Mark.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“Take control, Zara.”
My grip tightened around him as I lowered myself enough to feel the steel end of his cock pressed between my dampened folds. His thighs tightened under me, the heat of his gaze fixed on where our bodies met, spurring me on. I sank lower and felt him penetrate and stretch me, forcing a rush of air from my lungs. My hands dropped to his abs as I stopped to catch my breath, and I could feel every twitch of his muscles beneath me, forcing my eyes open to meet his.
I started moving again, the connected gaze giving me the confidence I so desperately needed. The gray of Mark's eyes darkened until he filled all of me, and my body felt stretched to accommodate him, the sight and sensations making my arms tremble. I was already so close to panting, and I could feel Mark's body rising and falling under my palms.
Pride shone from him, the thick bands of his biceps twitching as they spread out like wings on either side of his head.
Rising slowly, my instinct to please this man took over, once again. Our eyes continued to hold contact as I started to fuck him with small, measured movements, every wave of motion coming faster and deeper as I did. It wasn't long until every part of my body became attuned, and my sole purpose became the pleasure that was flaring out from where our bodies met.
“Touch me,” I begged him, rolling my hips and feeling him so deep inside me, I whimpered. “Please, Mark.”
“Give me control.”
Part of my mind kicked in at that, but my body was stretched around him, taking him deeper, and it chased any thought I'd had away.
“Take it.”
“Tell me again.”
“Take control, Mark.”
I don't think I would ever get used to the fact that this man, who was the size of a bear, moved as elegantly and swiftly as he did. I only had a second to feel the muscles under my hand gather before he sat up, his thick arm banding around my waist as he pulled my chest against his. I cried out when he pulled out, leaving a void inside of me.
“I'm going to fuck you hard. Use your words if you need to.”
“Okay.” I breathed. He had rolled to his knees quickly and was holding my body inches above his.
“Tell me what they are.”
“Red and yellow. Fuck me now, Mark. Please.”
He went from zero to sixty in a heartbeat. I went from empty to full without realizing we'd moved. My body stretched around him again, the friction of motion making my back arch on the bed I had no recollection of lying on. When I met his eyes, all I could see was satisfaction. He smiled at me as he drew out slowly, his teeth in his bottom lip as he thrust back in, pushing himself deep enough that I could feel him everywhere.
“I want you to watch,” he said, his body moving at the slow, needful pace as he withdrew.
Pushing up on his arms, he dipped his chin and dropped his eyes. I followed, my eyes taking in all but the head of him as he held it inside of me. My legs spread wide, rising so my thighs were above his hips, and I could see everything. My breath stuttered, my pussy tightened, my body blossoming for him as I begged for more. Then he moved again, the first time slow enough to watch him disappear inside of me in wonder as my body stretched and his hips rolled helping the head of him to graze the spot his fingers had so aptly found the night before. The sound of pleasure rushed from me at the sight of it, and it was all he needed as a sign of approval to take absolute command over my body.
I expected to feel panic. Even with the shift being as subtle as a breath, part of me had been worried it would stir something I didn't want from inside of me.
The anxiety never came.
Mark set the pace. Our bodies moving together as the pleasure gathered. As promised, he took me hard and deep, his thrusts growing more potent as the sex intensified. My body pressed so deep into the mattress at times, I had no choice but to push back, my hips rising, forcing one of his hands to grip and guide me in our efforts. We were a tangle of limbs as sex became rough, needful fucking—our breaths mixing between us until our eyes met. The connection was instant, creating a frenzy of motion as our lips crashed together. The kiss became part of the sex, nips, bites, and a battle with our tongues driving the euphoria that had overtaken me to new heights. Passion and need took over, and I lost myself in the sensations rather than the actions.
For what felt like hours, I twisted and writhed beneath him. My body worked with his as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through my bloodstream. I lost myself in Mark, in the feel of him moving inside me dragging my euphoria above anything I’d experienced before, until nothing could touch my high. Nothing but this beautiful man and the way he touched, guided, and fucked me with every inch of himself.
I wanted more even when I wasn't sure I could take it. Running my hands over Mark's sweat-dampened skin, I attempted to get closer. I wanted to be inside of him, be a part of him so he could feel all of this without fear of letting go completely.
I begged him for more, my hands pressing against the headboard when we had nowhere else to go. My skin was a livewire of pleasure and sensation that sang out to Mark like he was a God.
“I've got you.” He punctuated the last word as our bodies crashed together. I shuddered with the force of it. “I won't let you go.”
His words penetrated my mind, and everything else fell away. My thoughts and memories ceased to exist as my orgasm clawed through my body, and I locked myself around him with a cry. My vision flared as my climax drowned me. I let it take me. I let myself float on the wave of it lost in the clouds that now embraced me.
Mark wasn't finished yet. I could hear it in the way he whispered my name, the grip of his hand on my leg as he pushed it up to the side of my body, felt it in the wet heat of his mouth around my nipple through the T-shirt I was wearing.
Even when I was still half-high, my body flared to life around his, another climax promising a second visit to oblivion as I moved with him. He'd already pushed me over a ledge, and now I wanted him to break me completely, to
take everything I had to offer. I wanted him to live where he was now. I wanted him.
I wanted Mark Chilton.
“Oh, God.”
I wasn't sure Mark was aware of anything as he thrust his body into mine with a grunt and three long, thick strokes. He pushed deep, his body tense and rigid with pleasure as he released.
It took a while for the world to gain focus again, but Mark always seemed aware of what I needed the most. He collapsed to the side, pulling me with him, my legs still around his thick hips.
“Zara?”
“No talking,” I mumbled almost soundlessly. “I just want to enjoy this.”
The palm of Mark's hand cupped my cheek, and I leaned into the heat of it. I was not allowing my mental reprimands to drown me. Mark kissed me gently, those lips closing over mine, chasing away the self-doubt that had been tapping at the door. I didn't need to label this. I didn't need defined boundaries to do this over and over again. I wanted him, and for now, I had him. That had to be enough. I wasn't willing to give any of this up because of feelings.
“Zara.”
“I said—” He shut me up with a kiss.
“I don't care what you said.”
I groaned playfully, closing the small gap between our lips again. “Can I at least make coffee first?”
“One question before you go.”
I fluttered my eyelashes at him, a move that was countered by the sweep of his hand as he brushed damp strands of hair back from my face.
“Okay. One.”
“How the fuck are you still wearing a T-shirt?”
I grinned and partially lied to him. “My focus was elsewhere.”
It took me a moment to notice the sharp edge in Mark's eyes as he studied me. I had no idea what had caused the change or where it had come from, but it was there a brutal comparison to the gentle affection.
“What just happened?” I asked, feeling the acid in my stomach begin to churn.
“You just lied to me.” His hands fell away from me, disappointment now clouding his eyes.
“I'm sorry.” I hated knowing I'd been the one to put that emotion there. “I'm so used to doing that, and I didn't think.”