"I can't." The confession hits me right in the chest, and I go still. "And I won't. I'm going to leave my handprints all over your ass. And you're going to promise to bemine. Not Reginald's. Not Kyle's.Mine. Say it, princess. Tell me who you belong to."
Another firm smack comes down on my ass, and I yelp from the surprise, but it quickly melts into a moan as I give myself over to the sensations, to the way Marcus takes control and allows my mind to go quiet.
I need this. God, do I. And I want it so badly that I'm dripping.
One more slap, and then his hand is rubbing across my skin in gentle circles, working lower until he teases me over the fabric of my panties, which I know are soaked.
"I'm waiting, princess. Say my name. Tell me you're mine."
"I—" But Marcus glides his fingers across my seam, working my pussy through my underwear.
His fingers are so sure, his touch so pinpoint, and even though he's notreallytouching it, my clit hums as an orgasm rushes forward.
It's incredible, overwhelming, and I find myself nodding, willing to do anything this intoxicating man says.
Or to at least give it a solid try before I want to be a brat again.
"Yes!" I cry out. "I'm yours, Marcus!Please!" He rubs harder, and my eyes flutter closed as I push back against his fingers, whimpering. "I'msoclose."
"That's my girl. So fucking good for me." His touch is fire, and I'm scorching beneath it, my pussy clamping as he squeezes my throat so perfectly. "Come for me. Now."
And I do.
I fall apart in Marcus's lap, reduced to a puddle of myself, and I don't even care. Whatever is burning between the two of us, I want to fan the flames.
Damn the consequences.
6
Lila
Marcus gives me a second to come down from everything, and it's only when my head is clearer that I realize he said something about discussing a plan of action for dealing with my father.
"So what is this about a plan? Do you have something that might actually get through my father's thick skull?"
Adjusting in the bed, which includes grabbing at his straining erection behind his fly—one that I need to get my hands on at some point—Marcus nods, chuckling.
"Sure, I guess now's as good a time as any to have this conversation." He shakes his head, his eyes dropping to the bed between us for a moment before he meets mine again. "Thanks to my job, I have some connections with the FBI. If I can get your father to come clean, I might be able to call in a favor and offer some witness protection. They've been trying to get their hands on Cilento for years now. They might be more than willing to offer protection and a new identity if he's willing to come clean about what happened."
"I'm not so sure how my dad will feel about that. You heard him. The company is everything to him. He's not going to want to pretend he's up and disappeared and leave that company to someone else."
Marcus hauls me into his lap, and my oversensitive skin brushes over the thickness underneath his zipper. I let out a tiny whimper, but he tucks my hair behind my ear and looks at me like he'sverycomfortable.
"That might be the case, princess, but he's going to have to realize that something needs to change here. If he continues with what he's doing, he might not just lose you—which apparently he'snotthat concerned about—but he might also lose his company. Of course, Cilento will make that happen by use of a bullet, not blackmail."
Gripping my hips, Marcus moves them in a circle, making me grind down against his lap like it's nothing. He's continuing to have this conversation while he uses me to stimulate himself.
There's something so frantic and desperate anddamnhot about what he's doing.
I help him, rolling my hips and moving back and forth as I rub my still-sensitive pussy against his cock.
"You really think that Cilento will have someone kill my father?"
Marcus groans, his eyes rolling back into his head as he drops it against the headboard. His fingers dig into my hips harder, and I can tell that this is working something profound in him.
"Yes, I do. Ugh. Keep moving like that, princess, and I'll tell you more about my plan."
Smirking, I move quicker, rubbing harder, circling in tiny, tiny rotations. I can only get a vague idea of how big Marcus is with these jeans between us.
