Six Hot Single Dads. Lynne Marshall
the waistband of her black satin panties, but his eyes stayed glued to hers. With every passing second, with every pump of blood through her body, he further occupied her heart. He could have had absolutely anything from her at that moment. Absolutely anything.
Now that she was completely naked, both physically and mentally, he shifted above her, planting his knees on the bed between her legs, his hands on either side of her waist. He covered every square inch of her belly with his warm lips, traveling in circles that radiated outward. When he reached her breasts, he gathered his lips around her nipples, sucking, then flickering his tongue against the tight skin. He kissed the tender undersides of her breasts, then the stretch of skin between them. Every subtle thing he did felt so essential to her being, as if he was coaxing her breaths out of her.
He traveled down her midline with his lips, the kisses becoming deeper, longer, wet. She sucked in a sharp breath when he palmed her thighs and spread her legs wide. Then he kissed her apex and the whole world fell away. He took control, exploring her most delicate places with his tongue and lips, with the patience of a man who knew exactly what he was doing.
Her hips bucked off the bed as his tongue traveled in circles. She couldn’t stand not to touch him anymore. She tossed the dress aside and dug her hands into his hair. The intensity was building so quickly in her center that she didn’t think she could take it much longer. She felt as if she might explode. She was legitimately concerned that if he made her come as hard as she thought she might, she could end up pinning his head on both sides with her knees. “Marcus. I need you. I need you to make love to me.”
He took a few more passes, just enough to make her dizzy, then pressed his lips against her lower stomach. She took a deep breath, willing the pleasurable pressure to recede. She wanted this next part to last.
He removed a condom from the bedside drawer.
“Let me do it,” she said, scooting to the edge of the bed.
“Gladly.” He handed it over, standing before her, a vision of muscle and masculinity—a very happy vision judging by the way he felt in her hands. A low, guttural breath escaped his lips.
She stroked him, watching his reaction as she tightened her grip. Then she switched to a lighter touch, and that seemed to drive him even crazier. Her fingers traveled his length, slowly, carefully. It felt as if he became even harder with every pass. She couldn’t fathom how he could take much more, so she opened the foil packet and rolled on the condom.
He lowered his head, cupped the side of her face, and drew her into a deep kiss. It was as if he was drinking in her very being, and she did the same to him, relishing every heavenly sensation of his touch. She eased herself to her back and bracketed his hips with her knees. “I want you, Marcus. Make love to me.”
“I need you, Ash. More than you’ll probably ever know.” He positioned himself at her entrance, still standing, raising her hips off the bed, carefully driving inside as he did.
She went higher, he went deeper and their bodies were fully joined. He cradled her bottom in his hands. She wrapped her legs around his hips, struggling to make sense of how impossibly good he felt. He was so deep it made her light-headed. He increased their pace, making small but powerful thrusts, keeping their bodies as close as possible.
He had her right back where she’d been a few minutes before, poised on the edge of release, her breaths shallow, almost insignificant. His were coming hard and fast, his lips parted, his eyes closed as he seemed lost in a trance of pleasure. She wanted those lips. She wanted his face in her hands when he gave way. She had to have that closeness.
“Kiss me,” she gasped, clutching at the sheets, realizing just how close she was to release.
He reached down and slipped his arms around her, pulling her chest to his as he rolled onto the bed until they were facing each other, on their sides. Their lips were on each other, tongues swirling. Marcus bucked his hips against her, thrusting deep, while the angle brought her a perfect friction. Her insides were wound tight, and there wouldn’t be much more she could take before she would have to give in.
The peak sprang on her like a tiger attacks its prey, consuming her. Marcus quickly followed with his own release, holding her close, quieting the movements of her hips with his hands. Their breaths slowed, falling into synchrony. She caressed the side of his face, feeling his stubble against her palm, feeling his smile in their kiss. She couldn’t think of another place on earth she’d rather be. I love him.
If only she could be certain she wouldn’t let him down.
Marcus had been half-awake for a while, basking in Ashley’s beauty as she slept. He knew exactly how lucky he was to have found her.
Ashley stirred, stretching and arching her back, rolling her head from side to side on the pillow. A narrow sliver of morning sun peeked between the drapes. It was nearly nine thirty. When was the last time he’d slept so late on a Sunday? It certainly hadn’t happened since Lila had been born.
He and Ashley had both needed the sleep. They’d taken full advantage of their night together, only drifting off for short spans before one of them would find the other beneath the sheets, hands would rove, lips would touch skin and the glorious cycle would start all over again. They’d fallen together so perfectly and now a day of reckoning was upon them, or at least upon him. Ashley was due to get her apartment back tomorrow. Their experimental coupling had been more than a success—it was a revelation—but it wasn’t the full reality, only a partial one.
“Morning,” she said sleepily, folding herself into him, resting her head on his chest.
“Good morning.”
He caressed her back, kissed the top of her head. Thinking about what might lie ahead filled him with hope—guarded hope, but he’d take what he could get. It had been so long since he’d felt any hope at all about his future, the future of Chambers Gin, or the things that Lila had ahead for her. He wouldn’t let her suffer, but some scars were unavoidable, and she would someday understand that her birth mother had chosen not to be there for her, not for the quiet moments like her first step and not for the big ones either—like her first day of school or her first boyfriend, God help him. If there was any justice in the world, Lila would grow up with two loving, adoring parents to soften the blow of the truth.
He counted on Lila’s presence to remind him that the world was still a beautiful place. Now he had Ashley to remind him of the same. Something inside him had been awakened, a part of him that he’d thought Elle had robbed him of. He’d let down his guard and love had come rushing in, the exact opposite of what he’d feared.
But there were two pieces of this beautiful puzzle that remained unsolved, and that scared him more than anything from his past. He couldn’t reason either thing away. He couldn’t think them away or ignore them. Ashley might be perfect for him, but she might not be perfect for Lila—and vice versa. Ashley was skittish about her ability to handle motherhood. There would be no choice but to end his love affair with Ashley if it proved to be a bad match. He would once again be dragged down into the hell he thought he’d never survive the first time.
And then there was her apartment. She was moving forward with her new builder tomorrow, and that meant moving forward with a life that didn’t include Marcus or Lila. He was trying so hard to stay calm, to keep things at a pace that she was comfortable with, but it was incredibly difficult. He wanted to race toward happily ever after, not wait and hope that it would all fall in place. That meant it was finally time to come out with the words he could no longer hold back.
“What do you want to do today?” she asked, resting her chin on his chest. She reached up and played with his chest hair then smiled at him.
She froze him in place with that smile, reminding him to take a breath—this was the way he wanted to feel. Right here, right now. She was the one, the real one. He took her hand in his, wishing he had a big fat engagement ring to put on her finger. “Before we make a single