Innocence (Tales of Olympus #1)(50)

Because sex was about power to him. Did he still think he had the power in the situation just because she was the one on her knees?

Even the thought infuriated her.

She would show him. She was not a pawn in somebody else’s game. She was a motherfucking player.

So, pushing all other thoughts out of her mind, she went up on her knees and took the bulbous tip of his sex into her mouth.

“Gods,” he choked.

Cora smiled and licked all around the tip. It was curiously salty and a little bit bitter. She grasped the bottom of his shaft with both her hands—he was large enough it took both—and took more of him into her mouth.

He leaned back in his chair and widened his legs further. She saw his stomach flatten and heave as she started to work him, in and out, in and out, just the head.

She’d never done it before, but she’d read. She’d read a lot. First in her romance books and then, as her wedding day neared, everything else she could get her hands on, well, apart from the Internet which still scared her. But plenty of women’s magazines had lengthy articles on the art of giving your man the perfect BJ and Cora employed every tactic she’d ever read about.

Spelling out the alphabet on the very tip of his…his cock, right where she felt the tiniest slit. Bobbing up and down with her lips over her teeth, making sure to pay special attention to the ridge of his crown while still rolling the flesh of his shaft up and down. And every so often, taking him deep, as deep as she could manage without choking.

When she decided to employ yet another tip, reaching down and tugging on his balls, he shoved his chair back and pulled himself out of her mouth.

Cora fell forward onto her hands, looking up for the first time into his face since she’d begun. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find there but it was better than she could’ve hoped for.

He did not look cold. He did not look distant.

There were two spots of color high up on his cheekbones, accentuating the sharp cut of them even more. His eyes were wide and his nostrils flared with every heaved breath. His heavy cock jutted out from the front of his unzipped pants and Cora couldn’t help but stare. She’d just had that in her mouth?

Dear gods, what the hell had she been thinking?

She swiped at her mouth with her forearm and above her, Marcus let out a low growl like an animal might.

Definitely not disinterested. Or indifferent.

Oh shit.

Marcus reached for her and she scrambled back but he shoved the table out of the way. Shoved. The. Table.

The next thing she knew, he was bent over and unlocking the chain attached to her collar. He gathered her up in his arms and he was carrying her.

Okaaaaaaaay, so this was unexpected.

“Marcus,” she whispered.

He didn’t respond. What he did do was carry her to his bedroom.

He laid her out in the center of his bed and he followed after.

For the first time in days, he looked her in the eyes. It was stupid, but her breath caught. His gorgeous, intense, demanding eyes. He still didn’t say anything, but he held her gaze as he slid his hand down her stomach.

He caught her chin and her eyes searched his. She had no idea what he was thinking. What was he thinking?

“Undress me,” he hissed.

She swallowed and nodded. Her fingers found the buttons of his expensive Italian shirt. Steady, steady. Just breathe. Ignore the solid plane of his chest. Ignore the tiny jolts of electricity zapping her every time her knuckles brushed him. Ignore the stutter in his indrawn breath, the demanding length poking her bare thigh, promising pleasure and pain when the time came to tear her open.

This was it. She knew it was. There was no more waiting, no more teasing, no more half measures.

The white shirt fell away, revealing strong forearms. He helped her peel off his undershirt and then—

Dear gods above. Faced with a wall of smooth, firm muscle, olive skin dusted with a little dark hair, she swayed on her knees. She knew Marcus was strong, but hadn’t contemplated the acres of muscle under his tailored suits. Now, half naked before her, he was just so…big. His head towered over hers. Her hands couldn’t fit around his upper arm.

He caught her wrists, drawing her close. His head ducked, his lips caught hers for a hard, claiming kiss. His erection dug into her thigh until she swiveled her hips, pushing her throbbing parts into the satisfying length of him. She was a virgin, never had anything inside her, but she wanted it. Oh gods, she wanted it…

When Marcus broke the kiss, her lips were throbbing, swollen.

“This,” his big hand slid over her bottom and squeezed. “Is mine.”

She nodded frantically, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. She wanted him to take, to own her. She needed it.

Marcus let out a groan that told her he was as undone as she felt.

“No one but me, Cora. No one touches you but me.”

He laid her down, hands catching her hips. “Spread for me, baby.”

She propped her legs apart. He dove between them, dark head working.

No. Her head flew back. No, no, no.

The gleam in his eyes did it. YES. She flew apart. Finally after so many days of teasing. But gods, it wasn’t enough, there and then gone too soon. She needed more. She needed so much more.

And there he was, still watching her, so focused, so single-minded. Her hands lifted to his shoulders as he moved over her body. She couldn’t look away as she felt him reach down and position himself.