Defenseless (Salvation, #5)(89)

“Touch me.”

He shakes his head, “Don’t play games, Charisma.” My head falls back as he climbs onto the bed, keeping his weight off me. “Say it. Tell me who you belong to.”

I look up with a grin. “You. I belong to you. And you, my husband, are all mine.”

“Fuck, yeah, I am.” He pulls me against him and unhooks my bra. He slips it down.

His tongue circles before he pulls my nipple into his mouth. My eyes water from the pleasure he extracts from my sensitive breasts. Everything is heightened since the baby. I feel it ten times more intensely. My orgasms are like a drug, and I can’t get enough of them.

Mark slithers down my body, trailing his tongue on his way. I squirm beneath him as he makes his descent to my core. “You ready for number one? What do I get if I get it in under a minute?”

“Let’s not forget you still have to give me a Charlie Day.” I remind him of his obligation.

“I say you give me at least two blow jobs whenever I want them.”

“We’re not negotiating now, Mark!” I groan as his fingers lightly trace my opening. I squirm. I need his touch, his mouth, his cock. “I need you.”

“If I blow your world in a minute, you can blow mine.”

“Fine!” I yell out in frustration.

I hate him sometimes.

As soon as my head hits the bed, his mouth goes to work. He licks, sucks, and bites softly against my clit. Mark drags me down but lifts me up. I climb but try to hold off. I focus on anything to not let him win, but I’m so sensitive. I’m so horny, and I’m so in love with this man. My breathing becomes labored as I try to count past sixty. I don’t want to lose, but really . . . I’m far from losing here.

I count to fifty-eight and any grip on my control slips away. I fall into the black hole as colors flood my vision.

“God, you’re good,” I say, trying to catch my breath.

I flip him over and smile at the memory that hits me. Not too long ago, we did this on a plane. It was that moment when my life changed. I gave up a part of myself to him and never got it back. He and I shared something that night. We gave each other something we had never shared with anyone else. It bonded us. I press my hand against his cheek and my two-carat princess-cut diamond shines between us.

My lips press against him as I try to convey my love to him. I arch up and sink down on top of him. He moans in my mouth and I rock back and forth.

There’s no hurry. I want to feel him. I want him to feel me.

“I love you, Mark.”

“I love you more,” he says against my lips.

We move in unison, slowly, but then we pick up the pace. Neither of us take things slow. He flips me onto my back and pushes my legs up. He’s so deep inside of me. In so many ways. Our bodies become one as he slides in and out. I close my eyes and hold onto his shoulders.

“Look at me,” he demands.

I lift my lids. Our gazes stay locked as I see everything through his eyes. It’s so intense and beautiful that it pushes my second orgasm to the brink. Mark grunts as I squeeze him.

He follows me over after I come back down. We lie here, naked, with limbs tangled together. The breeze off the ocean floats through the room. The salt air comforts me. It reminds me of him. Fresh air and the sea. “I’ll always think of you and the water.”

“Because you’re warming up to surfing?” he asks then rolls over to face me.

I get on my side to see his eyes. “Did you eradicate the sharks?”

“No, but for you I might try.”

“Aww.” I touch his cheek. “You’re so cute . . . sometimes.”

Then, in true Mark fashion, he reminds me how not cute he is.

“I’m going to miss these.” He grabs my boob.

I smack his hand away. “Well, they’re not going anywhere.”

His green eyes darken. “And neither are you.”

“No,” I say with a smile. “I’m not. You knocked me up and married me. I guess we’re stuck.”

Mark pulls me on top of him and kisses me. “I guess so.”

I roll off him, sit up, and look around. “I think it’s how it was meant to be. We’re exactly where we should be. You, me, here on this beautiful island. Just us.”

His hand rests on my stomach. “All of us. Forever.”

“Well . . .” I pause and then shake my head. “Nah, Forever and always.”





Five Years Later

“Where are the keys?” I yell as Makenna runs around in circles in her walker. She’s the spitting image of her father—blonde hair, green eyes, and his attitude. In other words, she’s a giant pain, but awfully cute.

“Where you left them!” Mark calls out as he tries to get our oldest corralled. Cullen is a handful. He literally has the worst traits of both of us. Stubborn is an understatement. He refuses to even look at the potty, won’t eat anything that’s green or brown, and sleep isn’t in his vocabulary. Mark and I cherish each second with him, mainly because we’re on nanny number six.

Yeah, six. He’s the devil. No, he’s his father. He’s forced me to become a work-at-home mom because we can no longer get anyone to respond to our ads. I swear kindergarten can’t come soon enough.