Every now and again, he stops and grips my hip with one hand, grinding his hard length into me. And every time he does this, my mouth opens, and a soft sigh escapes me. My breath hitches. My nipples bead as he runs his tongue across my bottom lip, showing me how much he wants me. He growls low in his throat as his hips jerk involuntarily.
Heat blooms in my middle. My core clenches. I’m wetter than I’ve ever been in my life. He feels wonderful. He feels better than I dreamt.
He feels better than I ever remember feeling with James.
And I feel powerful.
All at once, I understand why some women choose to use their sexuality to get what they want. It seems so easy. So simple. So gratifying. A victimless crime, if you will.
I wonder, in a moment of sheer lust, if I will somehow be able to incorporate my newfound sexuality into my job.
Marco bumps us into the wall, and I collide with him none too softly. I chuckle into his mouth, and when I feel his lips curve into a smile, I could die.
My heart skips a beat.
It’s then that I realise women who use their sexuality for gain miss out on the small but important things, like belly-flutters, gentle touches and secret smiles. And I want those things.
He loosens his hold on me, reaches behind him and opens what I now understand is a door we’re pressed against. We almost tumble inside, and before we can go any further, Marco slams the door shut and pushes me back up against it. “Stop me, Cat.”
“No,” I say firmly.
He grasps my hip with one hand, and with the other, he uses his fingertips to mark a blazing trail down my collarbone, the valley between my breasts, lower still, ‘til his fingers rest below my belly button at my pubic bone.
My eyes open with a start. My breath seizes.
Zing.
“Touch me.” My voice sounds hoarse, even to me.
But he doesn’t. His heavy breathing fills the room. I don’t breathe at all.
He looks torn. I lift my hands to his chest and whisper, “What is it?”
“I’m still trying to figure out if touching you is worth my life.”
We stand, eyeing each other for a long while. I hold my breath. I feel the beginnings of rejection starting to seep in. Dread turns me cold for a single moment before his touch fans the flame inside of me once more.
His fingertips graze over my mound so lightly I wonder if he’s touching me at all. I get my confirmation when he cups me gently. My head flies back so quickly it hits the door with a thud. Eyes closed, my hands at Marco’s chest grip the material of his black shirt and fist it tightly.
My chest heaves with every heavy breath, and I wonder how I can feel this way from a simple touch, with so little effort. I quickly deduce it’s not the touch, but the person who is delivering it. His warm lips press slow, calculated kisses to my jaw. His hand starts a slow back-and-forth rubbing motion over me, and I can’t hold it in—I moan out loud.
Without meaning to, my legs clench together tightly. Loosening my hold on him, I lower my hand to his and pull it away from me. Marco sighs—not in annoyance, but in relief.
“I want more,” I whisper shakily.
He stops a moment, searching my face. “You sure you’re not doing this because of Clark? I can be your rebound if you need one, but are you sure you’re okay with it?”
I keep my eyes on his, take his hand and slide it into my panties. Using my own hand to navigate his, I slowly rub his fingers up and down through the wetness there, and I watch his eyes close, a pained expression crossing his face. I lean forward an inch and nip his chin before kissing the same spot. “You did this to me. Not Clark.” I kiss his lips. Once. Twice. Three times. “Now, fix it.”
His eyes open and his brows rise in surprise. Then that smirk I love appears. “Yes, ma’am.”
Pressure on my pleasure centre has me gasping. “Oh, God.” My knees shake as my body jerks from stimulation I’ve never felt before. I never understood what the fuss was about when it comes to sex.
I’m beginning to understand.
A swarm of feelings courses through me, some contradicting others, but overall, an immense feeling of happiness washes over me. He works me gently, but firmly. My breathing quickens. Slowly, then quickly. I whimper and squirm against his hand. Quicker still, then before I know it...
“Oh, oh, oh!” My eyes shoot open, my mouth rounds in an O and I pulse uncontrollably, clenching around his fingers.
I’m freefalling.
Unbelievable.
Pure bliss.
Bright lights dance in front of my eyes in time with every throb. My toes curl.
Marco’s hand stills and I’m grateful. I feel hypersensitive right now. I slump forward against him, and he gives me the time I need to come back from where he took me. He strokes my back gently as I nuzzle into his neck.
A minute passes, then two. Finally, I lift my face and look up into his. My eyes flutter sleepily. I bite my lip to stop myself from smiling. “I don’t know about you, but I think that was worth your impending death.”
His brows lower at me. He blinks a moment. Then he tilts his head back and laughs, loudly and freely. And in this moment, he looks so relaxed and carefree I take a mental snapshot for my own records. When he buries his face in my neck and laughs against me, I melt.
Zing.
A soft smile spreads across my face. Marco lifts his head, smiles and smacks a kiss to my lips. Without a word, his arm wraps around my waist, and watching me, he walks backwards towards his bed. When his legs hit the edge, he sits and grasps my hips, pulling me to stand between his thighs.
In this moment, I’m happy. In this moment, I’m not Catarina the postulant, or Cat the orphan, or even Night Fury. I’m just a young woman with a crush on a guy who seems to like her, too. In this moment, everything is simple. And I will cherish the simplicity forever.
My gaze moves across the room. My cheeks heat, and I cover my hand with my face, chuckling.
Marco grins and gently pries my hand away from my face. “What? What is it?”
I sweep my hand out, gesturing around his entire room and say matter-of-factly, “This is all wrong.” A look of confusion crosses his face. I laugh. “In my dream, this room was dark, not light.” I point to the left side of the room. “The bed was there, and the covers weren’t the ones you have.” I point to the right side of the room. “And there was a mirror right there.”
His brows rise in shock. “A mirror across from the bed?” I nod slowly, face burning. He swallows hard. “Did you watch us together?”
I look into his eyes and answer a barely there, “Yeah.”
His pupils dilate. “How did we look together?”
Marco watching me the way he is throws me into a tailspin. I whisper, “Like a couple of animals trying to tear each other apart.”
Marco sucks in a quick breath, and then groans, “Fuck me.”
My response shocks me. My shaking hands move up to his face to cup his cheeks as I whisper, “I will, if you let me.”
I’m almost worried when he doesn’t say a thing, just watches me intently. When his hands come up, gripping the hem of my tee and he lifts it up and over my head, all I can do is raise my arms to assist him. He doesn’t waste time with my pyjama pants and panties. In one swift movement, they’re pulled down my legs until I stand naked in front of him.
His eyes graze over my body, and I know I should feel self-conscious, but I don’t.
This is exhilarating.
Hands on my waist push my back half a step. He stands, and without asking me to, I begin unbuttoning his shirt while he works on his belt. I feel him kick his shoes off, and hear his buckle jingle as it becomes free. His shirt unbuttoned, I reach for his collar, push it back over his muscular shoulders and down his back ‘til his torso is bare.