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She’d say anything. She’d say everything. Her body had been taken hostage and she’d never felt happier about it.
“What’s the question?”
He ground against her again. She clawed at his arms, wanting him closer. Needing him closer.
He nipped her bottom lip and then soothed it with a slow lick. “Make love to me, Lily.”
Dude.
Marcus wanted to eat the words that had left his lips without permission. He’d meant to say something crass. Something kind of dirty. Not four vulnerable words showing her just how much he liked her. The last thing he needed was for her to think he had a knee-weakening crush on her.
Which, of course, he had.
He didn’t think he was about to be turned down—but maybe he’d misread her. Plus, he liked her way more than was healthy. More than four out of five doctors would recommend.
No. Fuck that. He was getting a yes. There was no way he’d miss the chance to take her to heaven and back on this air mattress. Not after a sleepless night of erotic dreams starring her. Not after he’d woken with raging morning wood he’d had to beat into submission—literally. And he still wanted her. There was no quenching his thirst—no stopping before they started. He’d get a yes. He’d beg if he had to.
You got this, Black.
He lowered his head and began teasing her breasts again, pulling one tightened bud into his mouth and suckling her. She tasted like sugar and sin, and those happened to be his two favorite flavors. Her fingers danced along his head as she let out tiny pants of pleasure.
An answering buzz shot down his spine to his cock, which pulsed to the rhythm of her breaths. He drove his hips against her center, desperate to nestle into her wet warmth without her pants in the way. But she hadn’t said yes yet, and he wanted to hear her say yes.
Actually, he wanted to hear her say yes, Marcus, repeatedly in between the heated slide of their bodies. But beggars and choosers and all that…
He licked her nipple with the flat of his tongue before pulling her breast deep into his mouth. God, he wished he could see what color her nipples were. In his imagination, they were burnished peach with freckles surrounding them—like the cute ones dotting her nose.
A high, keening sound came from her throat. “Will you respect me in the morning?”
“You’re going to make me work for that yes, aren’t you?”
She laughed—a throaty, sexy sound.
“I’m a determined man, McIntire.” He rubbed his scratchy chin against her breast, testing to see if that turned her on or off. She gripped his hair and pulled.
On. Definitely on.
“The bet still stands,” she said with some effort. “No matter what we do for the next hour. And this… Oh, God.”
That response was because he’d begun kissing his way to her stomach.
She grabbed his cheeks and forced his head up. “Tonight exists outside of everything else.”
He let out a sigh of defeat. Not about the trip. About the caveat. Outside of everything else meant outside of work. Outside of the world they inhabited in the daylight. Whatever happened inside of this pitch-black, purportedly haunted mansion had to stay here. Which should have been good news. He’d always been capable of separating his dick’s pastimes from his workplace duties. Which was why it surprised him to feel the pinch of disappointment in the area of his heart.
She wanted him here and now. But not later. He didn’t like it, but it wouldn’t stop him from accepting what she offered him tonight. Scraps, but he’d take it.
“Agree?” she asked.
“Agree.” He laid a soft kiss on her rib cage. “Back to normal Monday morning.”
Unless he was able to convince her otherwise.
She raked her hand through his hair and applied pressure, pushing him down, down. “Joanie and Clive can’t know.”
What kind of idiot did she take him for? He knew better than to ask. He stuck his tongue in her belly button, and she sucked in a breath. “Say the word. We’re not going further until you do.”
Her palms on his cheeks, she sat up halfway and met him nose to nose. “Promise you won’t tell them,” she said.