Cora
I woke to the weight of a muscled male arm across my waist, heavy and warm like an anchor keeping me from drifting away. For a moment, I didn’t move, afraid that the slightest shift might break whatever spell had been cast over us. Morning light peeked over the distant mountains, painting a golden stripe across the rumpled sheets where it shone through the group of tall windows along one wall. I watched dust motes dance in the beam, feeling Marcus’s steady breath against the nape of my neck, each exhale a reminder that this wasn’t another dream.
I turned my head slightly, just enough to see his face in profile. Sleep had softened the hard lines that usually defined him. Even his thick, dark beard couldn’t hide the slight relaxation around his mouth or the temporary absence of the tension that seemed to live in his jaw. A scar I hadn’t noticed before curved along his hairline, pale against his sun-weathered skin.
As if sensing my gaze, his eyes opened -- no gradual awakening, no blinking into consciousness. One moment he slept, the next he was fully alert. Dark eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that sent a current racing down my spine, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
“Morning,” he said, his voice a low rumble that I felt more than heard, vibrating through me where he had me wrapped tightly in his arms. He lay partially over me on his side so I could see his face clearly.
“Morning,” I whispered back, suddenly aware of my tangled hair, my naked body, and the vulnerable state I found myself in. At least, I thought I should feel vulnerable. I was inbed with a man I barely knew. I was naked. I was surrounded by the biggest bunch of hard-asses I’d ever come across. Strangely, instead of being scared, I felt protected and wanted.
He didn’t move his arm from my waist, but his thumb began a slow sweep across the bare skin of my stomach, each pass igniting nerve endings I hadn’t known existed until his touch found them.
When he shifted slightly his beard brushed against my shoulder, the rough texture a striking contrast to the softness of his lips that followed. I shivered, not from cold but from the sensations he created within me from the mere stroke of his calloused fingers.
I breathed him in, this man who’d become my unlikely sanctuary. And it was more about Marcus than this place. I had the feeling that I’d never feel as safe, protected, and relaxed as I did when Marcus was with me.
“You sleep okay?” he asked, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at me. Before I answered, he leaned in to place a lingering kiss on my lips and I sighed in pleasure.
I nodded when he pulled back, not trusting my voice as my heart performed acrobatics against my ribs. My hands trembled slightly as I reached up to touch his face, needing to confirm he was real, that this wasn’t some elaborate fantasy my desperate mind had conjured. The solid warmth of his cheek and the coarseness of his beard beneath my palm sent relief flooding through me in a dizzying rush.
“I slept better than I have in years,” I admitted, surprised by the truth of it. Last night could have easily gone the other way for me, but the one thing I felt deep in my bones was that these were good people. Marcus was a good man, and so were the other people I’d met here.
His eyes tracked every minute change in my expression, reading me with the same careful attention he seemed to giveeverything that mattered to him. I wondered what he saw. My pulse quickened under his scrutiny, probably visible in the hollow of my throat. His gaze dropped to the fluttering there, then back to my eyes, missing nothing. I swallowed hard, suddenly thirsty in a way that had nothing to do with water.
“Water?” he asked, as if plucking the thought directly from my mind. “Coffee?” His voice remained that measured, quiet tone I’d come to recognize as uniquely his. He didn’t move and I didn’t want him to.
I shook my head.
A slow smile spread across his face. “You thirsty for something else?”
I shrugged, trying to be all nonchalant about it. I had exactly zero experience with sex other than trying a small amount of self-pleasure which hadn’t been all that fulfilling. Definitely had no idea what to do with the whole morning-after bit. What did he expect now? I knew what I wanted, though. “Maybe?”
His grin widened and he slid his hand up my waist to cup my breast. “Good. Me too.” He brushed his thumb across my nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my clit. I gasped, arching into his touch. The confident way he handled my body made me feel both vulnerable and powerful at the same time. “I like the way you respond to me,” he murmured, his voice deeper than before. “You were made for me.”
I couldn’t argue with that assessment. Every place he touched seemed to bloom with heat. When he dipped his head to replace his fingers on my nipple with his mouth, I cried out, wrapping my arms around his head and holding me to him.
The wet heat of his tongue circling my nipple had me squirming beneath him. He used his teeth, just the barest scrape, and I nearly came. “Marcus,” I breathed, my hips lifting of their own accord, seeking friction against him. I arched mybreast to his mouth, needing him to keep sucking.
He looked up at me, his dark eyes nearly black with desire. “Tell me what you need, Cora.”
“You,” I answered simply. “I need you to fuck me.”
He moved over me then, supporting his weight on his forearms as he settled between my thighs. I felt his cock pulsing between us. Marcus growled low in his throat, the sound primal and possessive. The hard length of him pressed against me, hot and insistent, making my hips rise instinctively to meet him.
“Condom,” he murmured against my neck, his beard tickling my sensitive skin.
I nodded, though a part of me wanted nothing between us. He reached toward the nightstand, fumbling in the drawer without taking his eyes off me. When he found what he sought, I took it from him, tearing the packet open with trembling fingers.
“Let me,” I said, pushing against his chest until he rolled onto his back. I straddled him, feeling bold in a way I never had with anyone else. The sight of Marcus stretched beneath me, his powerful body at my mercy, sent a thrill through me. I positioned the condom at the tip of his cock, rolling it down his impressive length with deliberate slowness. His muscles tensed under my touch, jaw clenching as he watched me through hooded eyes.
“You’re killing me,” he groaned when I gave him a teasing stroke.
I smiled, feeling powerful in a way I never had before. “Good.”
I positioned myself above him, feeling the blunt head of his cock press against my entrance. Slowly, I sank down, taking him inch by inch until he filled me completely. The stretch was exquisite, bordering on too much, but the burn never quite gave in to pain. I gasped as I settled fully onto him, my hands braced on his chest for support.
“Fuck,” Marcus breathed, gripping my hips so tightly I knew I’d wear his fingerprints as bruises. The thought sent another rush of heat through me. “You feel so fuckin’ good wrapped around my cock.”
