With a laugh, he said, “I’m sure. I know what I like, and it’s you.”
“I like that you think you’re going to like my thighs, but I’d rather turn the lights off.”
“Fine, but I’m lighting a candle.”
The waves lapping against the shore outside, the candle flickering against the walls, the scent of ylang-ylang, and the distinctly male scent of Markus.
Markus groaned. “There’s my girl.” He picked up where he left off, trailing kisses down the soft skin of her collarbone, down,down, down to where his mouth set her on fire. She sat up for him so that he could unhook her bra.
“They go where they want, Markus,” she warned him, just in case he expected them to stand upright.
Markus shut her up with a kiss. “I’m familiar with how they work, Gabby. Yours are perfect.” He cupped one.
“It’s not quite as perk—”
She couldn’t get out the rest of the word when he dropped his mouth to her pink crest. Lightning rods of pleasure shooting from his mouth to her—
“I love this breast. I love this stomach.” He trailed his tongue down her stomach past every one of her stretch marks to…
“Hmm. I wasn’t expecting this,” he said as he slipped her panties to the side. “Are you stripping on the side?”
She managed an almost-laugh, except that she could barely talk. “The EOD made me get a wax.”
“What’d they think you’d be doing down here?” he asked, running his finger along a smooth lip.
Before she could explain double standards, he tugged the panties down.
“Markus, don’t.”
He slid back up her body. “Don’t what?”
“You don’t have to feel like you have to—”
He drew his brows together. “Don’t have to? What if I want to?”
“You don’t have to pretend that you want to taste me down there. There’s no way you want…” She trailed off. Phil had never gone down on her. A college boyfriend had a couple of times, but she hadn’t come, and it had just seemed like—there was no way anyone wanted to be down there. She hadn’t accepted her thighs,let alone her… she wasn’t even sure what to call it. Women threw around the wordpussyso cavalierly. Her vagina was Voldemort, the part that shall not be named.
“I know what I want. I want to taste you.”
“Oh,” she said.
Markus slid her to the edge of the bed, pushed her legs back, and…
“You really don’t… Oh.”
He was going so slow, so, so slow, driving her insane with wanting more, taking his time. Before, it had always been a mad rush.
“I hope I don’t taste like bong water.”
He slid a finger inside of her while he moved his lips upward.
“I don’t—” Her eyes almost rolled back in her head as he moved his fingers in and out of her canal while teasing, sucking, and licking.
“Markus,” she said his name. “Ohmygod.”
“Mm-hmm,” he murmured.
“Mark-us.” She breathed his name out, no longer a call for attention, but a cry.
