There had been a compliment hidden in there, and my heart tripped over it.
“What about you?” he asked, tossing the towel to the floor.
My eyes scanned down his very naked, very aroused body.
I tried not to gape.
“I think. I think I’m good,” I stuttered. Dear god, was I good. Good didn’t even begin to describe what I was. That man was truly a sight to behold. His body was chiseled everywhere. Yes, I’d seen most of him naked before, but this was the first time I hadn’t been distracted by the situation. The first time I’d been allowed to stare. The first time I’d gotten to see the whole package, if you catch my drift.
And it was super powered.
No wonder he was into history, because Marc Kirby was a Greek god.
Marc shifted so he was on his side. “So, good morning.” He stretched his hand out to run the back of his finger along my jaw.
I shuddered. “It is now.”
“Definitely.” He moved his hand behind my neck and held me there while he moved in to kiss me.
Holy shit, this man! The way he kissed! That was a superpower too.
His mouth was hot and wicked as he sucked on my lip, then my tongue. The way he could make me moan and mewl just with his kisses—he had a rare and pure talent.
He moved his attention down my neck, nipping and licking along my skin.
I tried not to gasp too loudly, but I had actually never felt full-body shivers like that before. How? I had clearly been kissing all the wrong frogs.
You’re perfect, I thought to myself.
But either he could mind read or I must have actually said it out loud, because he whispered, “You’re not so bad yourself,” before tugging me back to him so he could reclaim my lips.
Our makeout session grew hotter and more frantic, and soon, he pulled me up with him so we were both on our knees. “Hands up,” he commanded then lifted my nightshirt over my head, leaving me in nothing but my lace trimmed panties—Batman this time. Hey, they came in a set. For justice!
Marc’s eyes drifted down my body, lingering on my breasts until my nipples were laser beams under his gaze. He chuckled when he noticed the panties, but they didn’t kill his mood like they did last time. If anything, his dick got harder. Vindication!
It wasn’t difficult to notice with my hand wrapped around him as tightly as it was.
I tugged him once, experimentally, and he groaned. “Fuck. Yes.”
Eagerly, he slipped his fingers past the lace to rub against my clit. At the same time he sucked a nipple into his mouth.
“Jiminy Christmas,” I gasped, clawing against his back with my free hand. I was on fire. I was fire—consuming every bit of oxygen I could draw into my lungs—and Marc was the fuel, igniting me with his mouth, with his fingers. With the thick cock I pumped in my fist. Hands down, the sexiest moment of my entire life.
“I want you,” he moaned as I rubbed my palm over his crown. “I want you so bad.”
“Have me,” I said, breathily, and all I could think was finally. Finally!
“Hold on. Condom.” Annoying, but honestly I find responsibility kind of sexy too.
I kept my hand on him, stroking him up and down as he leaned back to grab a foil packet from his nightstand drawer. After tearing it open with his teeth, he handed the rubber to me.
Which was no big deal.
Even though I’d never put a condom on a man before in my life. What? It was a skill I never learned in health class, and then it would have been awkward and weird to try and figure it out later, so I always just let my boyfriends do it.
It couldn’t be too hard, I told myself.
After all, I can take apart and put back together all kinds of machinery around the office. Ripping open the wrapper successfully was a good first start. I held up the condom to the light like it was a contact lens and figured out which direction things were happening in.
Fabulous. I was practically an expert already.
With all my focus on my task—okay, not all my focus, because Marc had resumed the finger exploration happening in my panties—I set the condom on his tip and had just started to roll it down his shaft when the doorbell rang.
“Ignore it,” Marc hissed.
“Oh, I am.” Was the condom supposed to unroll this way? It seemed inside out. I took it off his cock and examined it. The tip was there, so that—
“Are you—? For fuck’s sake. Give it over,” Marc said, impatiently. “We’re adding this to the lessons.” It took approximately two seconds for him to place and unroll. The doorbell rang again. this time followed by heavy pounding.
And not the kind of heavy pounding I’d been looking forward to.
“Don’t stop,” I whispered, so damn keyed up at the prospect of actually feeling Marc inside me. His fingers went down to make sure I was ready for him, touching just the spot that was craving him most. I whimpered, and his tip started to slide in.
“Yoohoo! I brought you guys some breakfast!” yelled Ava from outside. “Open up. Are you guys asleep? I know you’re home—I see your cars.”
Marc froze, panic in his eyes. “She has a spare key. We have to stop!”
“Don’t you dare stop,” I panted. I was so close, and his fingers kept working their magic, and oh my god it’s Ava we were talking about. “Do you think she’d actually use it?” I truly didn’t know. Ava didn’t make a point of just swinging through very often, and I always opened the door.
The banging paused—both on the door and in the bedroom—and Marc and I strained our ears to see if she’d come in. Unable to stand the suspense on either front any longer, I reached down too, and pressed Marc’s fingers down, reminding him what he was doing. I crested into orgasm just as he started to push further inside, so he stopped to let me ride it out.
It was silent for several seconds. Then there was the distinct sound of a key. In a lock.
The only thing I could hear was our rapid ragged breaths and the beat of my heart echoing in my ears. The faint sound of regret as the sex-train left the station without me in it. Again.
“Fuck.” Marc said, pulling out completely and scurrying off the bed.
“Fuck,” I echoed, grabbing my nightshirt as I jumped to the floor and fled to my room. Really we should have been saying Fuck-Not, because that was totally more accurate at this point.
In my bedroom, I quiet-slammed the door and stood against it breathing heavily. My body was still quivering with the aftermath, but I could hear Ava buzzing around—in the kitchen, maybe?
“Madison?” she called out. “Hey! I brought you cinnamon rolls. I know you always get anxious while you’re drawing for your ComicCon booth. Get up and eat one with me!”
Not what I wanted to be eating at the moment.
But Ava’s cinnamon rolls were actually pretty amazing. Also, I do stress over ComicCon. It was pretty hard to stay irritated at such an excellent friend. “Give me a sec and I’ll be right out!”