“And still single?” he muttered.
What didthatmean?
Before I could ask, he pinched the belt between his teeth and then grabbed my other wrist, drawing it up to meet its match, and then shifted hands to hold them both together in his one. Taking the belt from his mouth, he brought it up to tie around my wrists and part of my arms, tugging it tight enough to keep me from wiggling free but not enough to cut off circulation.
Clearly practiced in this area.
A stab of jealousy rocketed through me.
“You know what I’ve been thinking about?” he asked.
“Tell me,” I said to distract myself from obsessing over the imaginary list of people he probably had on his roster who were most likely dying for him to get home.
“I want to mark you.”
My mouth fell open. “W-What?”
“See, a funny thing I’ve noticed about you is that you get this look in your eye sometimes.” As he spoke, he moved his hands down from my chest, slowly working his way back down to my pelvis. “It’s this weird flash of anger that I couldn’t really figure out what I was saying to cause it.”
I could barely focus on the words coming out of his mouth over how he was pushing up the hem of my shirt until my entire torso was exposed.
“But then it happened again when we were back at my cabin and just now, too. And each time it was after I mentioned something about my sex life.” He pinched both of my nipples between his fingers.
I groaned immediately.
“Tell me, Blake, are you normally this jealous?”
I wanted to smack my head against the fucking desk.
How?
How?
“No,” I moaned miserably.
Fuck, how did he know—how did hefigure that out?
Fucking financial analysts. Fucking business tycoons who were all about reading the room and picking out the weakest link. I hated how hot it was, how turned on I got from him reading me like a damn book.
No one could.No one did.
No one but Marlow fucking Knight.
He laughed, delighted. “Just for me, huh. I’m honored.”
“Oh, fuck off—” A gasp ripping from my throat cut me off as he dealt a slap to the side of my hip. “Ohhhh.”
“I really need to figure out what to do with that mouth of yours.”
“Fill it,” I begged.
Another sharp slap, this one coupled with a gruff. “Oh, I plan to.”
CHAPTER 18
Marlow
Strewnout on his desk like this, his legs kicked up and hiked partially back to give me a perfect shot of what I had to work with between his legs—his cock already glistening at the tip, balls drawn up tight to his shaft, and a pucker that clenched each time I pinched his nipples between my fingers—I was having trouble not ripping my own cargos down and gripping both of us in my hand while I rutted against him.
