In Too Deep(72)

Looking down at myself, I realized I was still wearing my robe. "Uh.... nice," I stammered, sounding like an idiot. "How did you figure out my apartment?"

Mark chuckled. "How about you let me in your apartment, and I'll tell you?"

I stepped back, the angel of my morals falling silent as Mark's handsome smile melted any resistance I might have had. "Um... sure. Come on in."

I watched as he calmly made his way across my living room and stood in the middle, looking around. "It's nice. A lot of little touches that elevate the place."

"Thanks, I think," I said, closing the door. "But you haven't answered my question."

"Pretty simple, really. You said you had an old Honda, and an old Honda is parked in slot two twelve. I figured it was a pretty safe bet."

I had to admit what he said made sense. "Note to self, don't tell guys I just met about my crappy car," I joked, trying to clear my head. It was hard to do with him standing there. He was even more handsome in the light of my living room than he had been in the muted lights of the club. "But Mark, this is highly irregular."

Mark turned to me, his eyes smoldering and powerful. "Sophie, if you want me to leave, all you have to do is ask. I can walk out that door, and Tuesday we'll have a very nice, very polite date."

"Or?"

"Or I can stay."

Mark's words were accompanied by a promise of something in his eyes, something I'd never felt before. Erotic, sensual, and utterly satisfying, his eyes said to me that if I let him stay, my life would never be the same again. Still, my hand reached for the doorknob, resting on it for a moment before falling away to hang by my side. I turned and walked towards him, putting my arms around his neck. It was so different than the kiss in the parking lot. Without my high heels on, he almost towered over me, looking down into my eyes. "You know, we never did finish that dance."

With liquid grace and restrained strength, Mark pulled me into a dance, both of us moving sensuously and slowly to unheard music. I should have felt stupid. I mean, there I was, in my old terrycloth bathrobe, slow dancing in my living room to no music at all. I should have felt like the world's cheesiest idiot.

Instead, all I was aware of was Mark's eyes, and the feel of his hands on my waist, and the fact that under my robe I was still as naked as the day I was born. I know my breasts were straining against the old cotton, and with each heartbeat I could feel myself growing hotter and hotter.

"You're going to have to ask for it," Mark said, guiding me around until I was leaning against the wall. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Kiss me," I whispered, my mouth suddenly dry. "I want you to kiss me again."

"And?"

I could see the challenge in his eyes, and the smirk on his face. I should have been slapping his face. I should have been calling him a perverted *. Instead, I opened my mouth and said the truth. "I want to have sex with you."

His chuckle sent ripples down my spine. "How clinical. Are you going to ask me to put my penis inside your vagina now? Tell me what you really want, Sophie White."

"Fuck me," I said, a plaintive note in my voice I had never heard before. "I want you to f*ck me."

Mark pulled me away from the wall, almost sweeping me off my feet as he half carried, half pushed me over to the couch. We fell onto the old sofa in a tangle of arms and legs, Mark somehow turning us in midair so that I landed mostly on top of him. His lips found mine again, demanding and possessive, and I submitted to him willingly. I could feel him pressed against my thigh, and I quivered at the thought of his hard cock penetrating me, filling me up.

I almost screamed when Mark's left hand slipped inside my robe, cupping my right breast and kneading the soft skin. I'm proud of my breasts, which are a rightful D cup, even after losing weight. Mark knew just what he was doing, rubbing his thumb over my nipple until it stood up like a pink gumdrop on my skin, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. "Marrrrkkk," I could hear myself moaning as he left my lips to explore the curve of my neck, his lips sucking and nipping at my skin. It had been far too long since I felt a man on me like he was, and none of the previous ones measured up to Mark. "I need you."



Mark





I could hear the want in her voice. Inside my head, a war was raging. Part of me wanted to be tender, to be romantic and polite. But I had heard it in her voice, and in her eyes. Sophie had been with enough Mr. Nice Guys to fill her dance ticket for a while. She needed a Bad Ass. She wanted me to take charge, to dominate her. I wasn't sure if it was because of prior relationships that went wrong. Or maybe she was a natural submissive, I hadn't made up my mind yet. Either way, me being a nice guy wasn't going to give either of us what we wanted. So I let part of my work personality creep in, not that it was hard after just completing an assignment.

"You're being very demanding," I growled, pushing her up and off of me. The fact that my push took the robe off her shoulders and let it hang from the belt around her waist was an unexpected bonus. Her breasts were perfect, the sort that hung round and full, slightly sloping to mouthwatering pinkish red nipples. It took all my concentration not to just feast upon her breasts hanging there so close to my face. Instead, I tore my eyes away and grinned at her. "If you want something, you need to use the magic word."