I release her but make sure she’s stable on her legs. She touches her lips and breathes deep, as if savoring me and my taste.
“You okay?” I look down at her, wanting to kiss her again. Wanting to consume her so that I’m all she ever thinks about.
“Uh huh.”
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen her speechless, and I can’t stop the chuckle. My chest warms at the look on her face.
“I’ve never been kissed like that before,” she confesses, and it warms my heart.
“You deserve so much more, Marnie.”
“I want more, but I can’t.” She drops her head and squeezes past me.
I gently move her toward the back and open the door to get Oly out. Marnie reaches for their bags while I hold the sleeping baby. I take some of the bags from her. Two backpacks stand out from the rest. She won’t let me carry those and keeps a tight grip on them.
We head for the front door, and I press my thumb onto the pad, waiting for the lock to disengage. As I open the door, the alarm announces, “Home disarmed. Please state your code.”
I state my access code, and the alarm fully disengages.
“That’s neat,” Marnie says, glancing around the room.
It’s a great room, with the kitchen off to the right and the main living area on the left. A wall-mounted television sits abovethe fireplace. The house is decorated in brown leathers with a cream area rug over the wood flooring. The ceiling is dark wood, matching the floor, with a large fan hanging from the cathedral ceiling.
I’m waiting for her to comment on how definitely male it is, but she doesn’t. She turns toward the kitchen, with its marble countertops and large island.
“This is beautiful,” she says.
I don’t know why, but I let out a breath of relief, glad she likes it. Now I just need to talk her into moving in with me. Her comment about wanting more but not being able to hurts me. I’ve decided that even though everyone before her left me, I’m going to keep her and make her mine. I’m not letting her get away.
Part of it might have something to do with the fact we found out Jerry had Marnie in his sights too. He was planning to drug and rape Harlowe. We discovered his online journal, where he wrote about wanting to drug and have Marnie gang raped while he watched and got off. He felt that she thought she was better than him, so he was going to show her she wasn’t.
It freaked both Shock and me out to learn the fucker planned to hurt our women.
I walk into the spare room and lay Oly on the bed. Using the extra pillows, I block her in so she doesn’t roll off and hurt herself. Glancing around the room, I think of all the ways I could decorate this space for her. I bet she’d love a pink unicorn room, just like her little swim set.
“Thank you,” Marnie says softly from the doorway. “You’re really good with her.”
“I used to help with Harlowe when she was younger.”
“Well, you’re good at it. You’ll be a good father someday.”
“That’s the hope,” I say as I stalk toward her.
I reach down and grip her ass incased in the high-waisted bikini bottoms. I lift her up, and she wraps around me, her head going to my neck. She starts licking and kissing me, and I almost stumble from my need for her.
Somehow, I find my way to the sofa and sit down with her straddling my lap. My hands slide up her warm back to her neck, and I can’t stop my fingers from untying the bow at the back of her neck. She starts moving her hips against my cock, through my jeans. When her top gives and starts to fall away, she sits up.
I make a beeline for those perfect, rosy nipples and suck one of them deep into my mouth. The purr that escapes from her throat as her hands go into my hair has me sucking it in deeper. I release her nipple and move to the other. She’s now full-on riding me. Rubbing her cunt against my hard-as-fuck cock. I need inside her body. But then I remember the little girl in the other room.
“How long will she sleep?”
“I don’t know.”
She gasps as I pinch her nipple and leave a hickey on the side of her breast.
My hands slide down her back, and I notice scars I missed the first time I touched her. A large black-and-gray tattoo stretches across her back. I saw it at the beach and have caught glimpses of it under her clothing over the past couple of months. The design covers thin scars that I want to inspect.
I drag a finger over one. It’s long, thin, and jagged at the end, as if something struck her skin and tore it apart. It only takes me a moment to realize what it's from. She must sense where my thoughts have gone because she stops moving her hips and pulls away.
