I’m not a violent person by nature, but I would kill for this man.
The truth of that realization takes me by surprise, and I blink up at him, my gaze tracking over the strong curve of his jawline and the perfect bow of his full lips. His brown hair has gotten wet, making it look shiny and darker than usual.
At the moment, he looks like the thing he always calls me—an angel.
A dark angel, beautiful and deadly.
Rising up on my tiptoes, I press my lips to his. Marcus groans into my mouth, sliding his hands down my wet, slippery body to wrap around my waist as he hauls me against him. Our kiss is deep and sloppy, hungry and desperate, fueled by everything that’s led up to this moment.
I could drown in this man, I think. I could fall into the depths of his soul and never resurface. Never want to.
As if he’s trying to drown himself in me too, Marcus’s lips move harder against mine, his tongue sliding against my own in a dance that makes my clit throb. When our kiss finally breaks, his ravenous lips move over the curve of my cheek and along my jaw, collecting the water droplets that trail down my skin.
I arch backward, trusting him to hold me up as I give him access to more of me. He takes everything I’m offering, scraping his teeth along the column of my neck before biting down on the flesh of my shoulder. The sudden bite of pain makes my nipples harden, my stomach clenching as I grind against him.
He growls against my skin, lapping away water as his lips and teeth and tongue explore every inch of me they can reach. When he trails downward to my breasts, I lean back even more, and he splays one large hand between my shoulder blades to support me as his mouth closes over one nipple.
“Fuck, angel,” he mutters, his voice muffled by my skin and the water cascading around us. “I can never get enough of you. I keep fucking trying, but it’s never enough.”
There’s a hint of frustration in his voice, and I know his words are more than just talk. I feel the same frustration he does, the same urge to somehow defy the constraints of our physical bodies and meld ourselves into one.
I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about Marcus, Theo, and Ryland.
I didn’t know this kind of craving was even possible.
And I’m beyond caring if it’s healthy or wise. I don’t give a shit if it’s insane. I fought this thing long enough, and now I’m done fighting.
We’ve got bigger battles on the horizon anyway.
Marcus moves his attention to my other nipple, rolling it between his teeth before biting down hard enough to sting, and my muscles tighten as a bolt of pleasure shoots straight down to my clit.
“Fuck!”
As a loud cry falls from my lips, he releases my nipple and laps the pain away, making my yell morph into a needy groan.
Adjusting his grip on me, Marcus trails his lips lower. I straighten fully as he drops to his knees in front of me, his hands coming to rest on my hips. When his fingers delve between my legs, running through my folds before spreading my pussy lips wide, I bite down hard on my lower lip. My knees wobble a little, and I reach out to flatten my palm against the shower wall, steadying myself.
It’s times like these when I really wish I still had two fucking hands. I need to hold on to the wall for balance, but I want so badly to run my fingers through Marcus’s wet hair too, to grab a fistful of the dark strands and drag his face closer to my pussy.
Because it’s still several inches away. He hasn’t touched me with his tongue yet. Instead, he’s just staring at me, absorbing every detail of the most intimate part of my body like there’s going to be a test later. Like he wants to remember it for the rest of his damn life.
The way he’s got me spread open leaves nothing to the imagination, and his touch is full of a familiar ownership that makes my heart beat harder.
As if my pussy is his to touch any way he likes.
As if all of me belongs to him.
“Marcus…”
My voice is low and hoarse. Water is dripping down the side of my face as I stare down at him, and I can feel the slickness of my arousal coating my pussy, a different kind of wetness entirely.
For a second, his brown and blue irises flash up toward me, fierce satisfaction burning in their depths.
He likes that I’m desperate.
He fucking loves it.
But at least he doesn’t make me wait long.
The second his gaze drops down again, his head moves forward. Still keeping me spread wide for him like a fucking buffet, he runs his tongue all the way up my pussy before circling my clit in a slow, deliberate motion. My toes curl against the slick shower floor, my fingers clenching as I fight to keep my grip on the wall.
Pleasure ripples out in heavy waves as Marcus continues to work over my clit, and when I start shifting restlessly, pressing against his mouth, he grabs my hips again, forcing me to stay still.
The fingers of one hand dig into the flesh of my hip while the other slides around behind me. When I feel him delve between my ass cheeks, I let out a startled sound.
It doesn’t stop him though. It doesn’t even slow him down. With the same possessive touch as always, he slides one finger inside the tight ring of my asshole. Heat flashes through me, a fresh wave of sensation joining the pleasure emanating from my clit.
“Marcus. Fuck!”
I repeat his name, unable to come up with anything more articulate as he slides his finger in deeper, fucking my ass with it at the same time he attacks my clit with his tongue. The steady sweep of his tongue combined with the foreign feeling of his finger in my ass makes my legs tremor.
My heart is beating harder, and all thought of sore muscles is gone. The only thing I’m aware of, the only thing that exists right now, is Marcus.
His touch.
His tongue.
His hot breath against my skin.
When he wraps his lips around my clit and flicks the sensitive bud over and over again, the pleasure coiling inside me snaps. My head drops down as my whole body shakes, and despite my hand on the wall, I’m in real danger of collapsing.
Of course, Marcus would never let that happen. The orgasm is still working its way through my body when he withdraws his finger and surges to his feet, lifting me up and wrapping my legs around him as if I weigh next to nothing. My arm goes around his neck automatically, and I bury my face against his shoulder as I ride out the pleasure.
“I love making you come, angel,” he murmurs, his deep voice dripping into my ear like honey. “I love your sounds. I love your taste. I love you.”
He punctuates the last word by shifting his grip on me, lifting me up a little to line himself up before bringing me down hard on his cock. He fills me in one swift motion, bottoming out inside me and grinding my clit against him. My thighs squeeze his waist as he helps me rise up and sink back down again, finding a rhythm as I stroke his cock with my inner walls.
We’re still standing beneath the spray, and the part of me that can think anything at all marvels at the fact that he’s still holding me up as if it’s nothing. He hasn’t even braced me against the shower wall.
When his hand glides over the curve of my ass to slip between my cheeks again, I’m not surprised—but anticipation still makes my breath catch. He draws a small circle around the puckered hole, teasing me by slipping his finger inside just a little.
I try to grind back against him, clenching around his cock as I silently urge him to go deeper with his finger. He just chuckles, still teasing me as he fucks me slowly.