Night Fury: First Act Page 8

  He’s pulling me into a current. I’m drowning in him.

  And I like it.

  Zing.

  Against my lips, he utters, “I want you to come up to my room.” He places soft, open-mouth kisses onto my lips, and then playfully chews my bottom lip. “Say no.”

  What?

  I ask through a soft croak, “What?”

  Never stopping his delicious assault on my mouth, he whispers, “Don’t do it. Just say no.”

  He sounds desperate. Almost...begging.

  The thought of separating myself from him right now makes me want to weep. My chest tightens. My arms lock around him. “But I want t—”

  He cuts me off, apprehension lacing his voice, “Please, Cat. Say no.” Leaning his forehead on mine, he mutters, “Don’t make me be that guy. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will.” He pauses. “I will.”

  I speak softly, but clearly, “You don’t have to worry. I don’t have any expectations of you, Marco.”

  His eyes flash. “You should. A girl like you should have expectations. And you should set ‘em high. Don’t you settle, kitten, not for anyone. Especially not me.”

  ...Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil...

  Dear Lord, offer me protection from who I need it most.

  Protect me from myself.

  I press a soft, slow kiss to his full lips. “Take me to bed, Marco.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Fuck,” Marco groans as I kiss my way down his jawline, to just under his ear.

  Somehow, we manage to make our way up off the floor and down the hall to the rooms I have always known were for members of Mirage to stay if they wished to live onsite. Bob and Frankie stay in a room on the second floor, which has its own exit. Ari stays in a room on the opposite side of the building, an office she converted into a bedroom away from everyone else. Clark stays in one of the rooms we are stumbling towards, and I silently pray it’s far enough away he won’t hear us moaning and groaning—as we are now.

  One of his arms is wrapped around me, holding me pressed to him, and the other is holding what’s left of the bottle of wine. I hold his face in both hands as I press kisses all over whatever I can reach.

  Every now and again, he stops and grips my hip with one hand, grinding his hard length into me. And every time he does this, my mouth opens, and a soft sigh escapes me. My breath hitches. My nipples bead as he runs his tongue across my bottom lip, showing me how much he wants me. He growls low in his throat as his hips jerk involuntarily.

  Heat blooms in my middle. My core clenches. I’m wetter than I’ve ever been in my life. He feels wonderful. He feels better than I dreamt.

  He feels better than I ever remember feeling with James.

  And I feel powerful.

  All at once, I understand why some women choose to use their sexuality to get what they want. It seems so easy. So simple. So gratifying. A victimless crime, if you will.

  I wonder, in a moment of sheer lust, if I will somehow be able to incorporate my newfound sexuality into my job.

  Marco bumps us into the wall, and I collide with him none too softly. I chuckle into his mouth, and when I feel his lips curve into a smile, I could die.

  My heart skips a beat.

  It’s then that I realise women who use their sexuality for gain miss out on the small but important things, like belly-flutters, gentle touches and secret smiles. And I want those things.

  He loosens his hold on me, reaches behind him and opens what I now understand is a door we’re pressed against. We almost tumble inside, and before we can go any further, Marco slams the door shut and pushes me back up against it. “Stop me, Cat.”

  “No,” I say firmly.

  He grasps my hip with one hand, and with the other, he uses his fingertips to mark a blazing trail down my collarbone, the valley between my breasts, lower still, ‘til his fingers rest below my belly button at my pubic bone.

  My eyes open with a start. My breath seizes.

  Zing.

  “Touch me.” My voice sounds hoarse, even to me.

  But he doesn’t. His heavy breathing fills the room. I don’t breathe at all.

  He looks torn. I lift my hands to his chest and whisper, “What is it?”

  “I’m still trying to figure out if touching you is worth my life.”

  We stand, eyeing each other for a long while. I hold my breath. I feel the beginnings of rejection starting to seep in. Dread turns me cold for a single moment before his touch fans the flame inside of me once more.

  His fingertips graze over my mound so lightly I wonder if he’s touching me at all. I get my confirmation when he cups me gently. My head flies back so quickly it hits the door with a thud. Eyes closed, my hands at Marco’s chest grip the material of his black shirt and fist it tightly.

  My chest heaves with every heavy breath, and I wonder how I can feel this way from a simple touch, with so little effort. I quickly deduce it’s not the touch, but the person who is delivering it. His warm lips press slow, calculated kisses to my jaw. His hand starts a slow back-and-forth rubbing motion over me, and I can’t hold it in—I moan out loud.

  Without meaning to, my legs clench together tightly. Loosening my hold on him, I lower my hand to his and pull it away from me. Marco sighs—not in annoyance, but in relief.

  “I want more,” I whisper shakily.

  He stops a moment, searching my face. “You sure you’re not doing this because of Clark? I can be your rebound if you need one, but are you sure you’re okay with it?”

  I keep my eyes on his, take his hand and slide it into my panties. Using my own hand to navigate his, I slowly rub his fingers up and down through the wetness there, and I watch his eyes close, a pained expression crossing his face. I lean forward an inch and nip his chin before kissing the same spot. “You did this to me. Not Clark.” I kiss his lips. Once. Twice. Three times. “Now, fix it.”

  His eyes open and his brows rise in surprise. Then that smirk I love appears. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Pressure on my pleasure centre has me gasping. “Oh, God.” My knees shake as my body jerks from stimulation I’ve never felt before. I never understood what the fuss was about when it comes to sex.

  I’m beginning to understand.

  A swarm of feelings courses through me, some contradicting others, but overall, an immense feeling of happiness washes over me. He works me gently, but firmly. My breathing quickens. Slowly, then quickly. I whimper and squirm against his hand. Quicker still, then before I know it...

  “Oh, oh, oh!” My eyes shoot open, my mouth rounds in an O and I pulse uncontrollably, clenching around his fingers.

  I’m freefalling.

  Unbelievable.

  Pure bliss.

  Bright lights dance in front of my eyes in time with every throb. My toes curl.

  Marco’s hand stills and I’m grateful. I feel hypersensitive right now. I slump forward against him, and he gives me the time I need to come back from where he took me. He strokes my back gently as I nuzzle into his neck.

  A minute passes, then two. Finally, I lift my face and look up into his. My eyes flutter sleepily. I bite my lip to stop myself from smiling. “I don’t know about you, but I think that was worth your impending death.”

  His brows lower at me. He blinks a moment. Then he tilts his head back and laughs, loudly and freely. And in this moment, he looks so relaxed and carefree I take a mental snapshot for my own records. When he buries his face in my neck and laughs against me, I melt.

  Zing.

  A soft smile spreads across my face. Marco lifts his head, smiles and smacks a kiss to my lips. Without a word, his arm wraps around my waist, and watching me, he walks backwards towards his bed. When his legs hit the edge, he sits and grasps my hips, pulling me to stand between his thighs.

  In this moment, I’m happy. In this moment, I’m not Catarina the postulant, or Cat the orphan, or even Night Fury. I’m just a young woman with a crush on a guy who seems to l
ike her, too. In this moment, everything is simple. And I will cherish the simplicity forever.

  My gaze moves across the room. My cheeks heat, and I cover my hand with my face, chuckling.

  Marco grins and gently pries my hand away from my face. “What? What is it?”

  I sweep my hand out, gesturing around his entire room and say matter-of-factly, “This is all wrong.” A look of confusion crosses his face. I laugh. “In my dream, this room was dark, not light.” I point to the left side of the room. “The bed was there, and the covers weren’t the ones you have.” I point to the right side of the room. “And there was a mirror right there.”

  His brows rise in shock. “A mirror across from the bed?” I nod slowly, face burning. He swallows hard. “Did you watch us together?”

  I look into his eyes and answer a barely there, “Yeah.”

  His pupils dilate. “How did we look together?”

  Marco watching me the way he is throws me into a tailspin. I whisper, “Like a couple of animals trying to tear each other apart.”

  Marco sucks in a quick breath, and then groans, “Fuck me.”

  My response shocks me. My shaking hands move up to his face to cup his cheeks as I whisper, “I will, if you let me.”

  I’m almost worried when he doesn’t say a thing, just watches me intently. When his hands come up, gripping the hem of my tee and he lifts it up and over my head, all I can do is raise my arms to assist him. He doesn’t waste time with my pyjama pants and panties. In one swift movement, they’re pulled down my legs until I stand naked in front of him.

  His eyes graze over my body, and I know I should feel self-conscious, but I don’t.

  This is exhilarating.

  Hands on my waist push my back half a step. He stands, and without asking me to, I begin unbuttoning his shirt while he works on his belt. I feel him kick his shoes off, and hear his buckle jingle as it becomes free. His shirt unbuttoned, I reach for his collar, push it back over his muscular shoulders and down his back ‘til his torso is bare.

  My breath catches.

  He’s an Adonis.

  Body built—strong and cut in all the right places—his arms are thick, and when he pulls down his jeans and boxers, I’m shown a pair of strong, long legs.

  He’s absolutely stunning.

  His erection stands thick and proud, begging for my touch. I run a finger gently up the underside, and as Marco hisses in a breath, his cock bobs happily.

  At the very moment I move to wrap my hand around him, he grabs my hand and says a rushed, “Next time, you play all you want, honey, but right now, I need your pussy.”

  He turns us both and guides me to lay in the middle of his king-size bed. Kneeling at the edge of the bed, he opens a silver foil packet and sheaths himself with the very first condom I have ever seen in my life.

  It’s a little weird looking, actually, but does nothing to fizzle my arousal. In fact, I’m glad he thought of it. God knows, I wouldn’t have. He crawls to me, then over me. My arms open for him, and he lies on top of me. My legs spread of their own accord, as if summoning him, and I feel a trickle of wetness slide down my cleft.

  I am so ready for this.

  He settles between my legs, and I gasp when the very tip of him kisses my clit. Fisting his erection tightly, he rubs his length up and down my slit, coating himself with my wet, warm arousal. His eyes drift closed and his jaw tightens. “Fuck. So wet.”

  I stiffen when I feel him place the head of his cock at my entrance.

  This is it.

  Leaning down to my face, he captures my mouth in a deep kiss. He begins to push into me, and when he reaches resistance, stops. I wince as I try to hide the discomfort, and he puffs out a laugh. His fingers trail my cheek. “I told you, Cat. I know everything about you. I knew. It’s okay.”

  My cheeks heat.

  Oh, thank God.

  He presses a soft kiss to my lips. “This is going to pinch, but it won’t last long. If you want me to stop at any point, just tell me and I will.”

  My eyes on his, I only see sincerity. And it warms me. “Okay.”

  His hands reach under me to wrap around my back. He starts to push once more, and I force myself to breathe. He smiles down at me, and I can’t help but smile back.

  My smile dies a quick death.

  Pain.

  Oh, the pain.

  My stomach clenches, and I moan long and low, sounding a bit like a wounded animal. With every light push, he stretches me more and more. My hands fly up and grip his shoulders tightly. My nails dig into his skin. Tears fill my eyes as I start to hyperventilate.

  Marco grits his teeth as if this is hurting him too, and he pushes farther and farther, all the way into me ‘til there is no space left between us. His body turns rigid, and I know he’s using all his willpower to not thrust into me like a madman.

  He softly shushes me and kisses my neck in gentle pecks. I try to control my breathing, but it’s hard. A moment passes, then another. The sharpness of the pain begins to ebb away as we lay there connected in the most intimate way. I open my eyes and look up at him.

  He wears a look of tenderness, and I’m not exactly sure why. He whispers, “You tell me when it starts to feel a little better.”

  The pain fades, and a feeling of discontent courses through me, as though having him inside of me is nice, but something’s missing. Something fierce.

  My breathing turns ragged. “Now. Right now. More, please.”

  He thrusts up into me, so deeply a groan is forced out of me. A loud one. My eyes flutter closed, and I hear his strained, “Don’t you fucking dare. Open your eyes, baby. Look at me.”

  Chest heaving, I open my eyes and they meet his. He smirks and continues his controlled, deep thrusts. “That’s it. See me.”

  A sudden feeling of neediness radiates from my core.

  More.

  I need more.

  Zing.

  I lift my leg to drape over his hip. He growls. I beg on a whisper, “More. Faster.”

  He works himself harder, jaw clenched, biting his lip, thrusting deep and fast. I thread my arms under his to wrap around his back, and pure satisfaction warms my body when I feel sweat beading along his body.

  That’s all for you. That effort, that work. All for you, Cat.

  My orgasm, once again, comes hard and fast. Tingles start up my spine. White dots blur my vision. My nails dig into Marco’s back. As I tighten around him, he groans, “Yeah, baby. Fuck. Take it.”

  My head is thrown back in a fit of pleasure. My back arches off the bed, sealing my front to his strong, delicious body. I gasp then moan out, “Marco,” as my pussy clenches around him, gripping him. Thanking him.

  His mouth opens in a silent moan, and his eyes drift closed as his thrusts turn erratic. He buries his face in my neck, and the smell of his cologne wafts over me. He smells delicious.

  Still floating in the aftershocks of bliss, I move my hand to grip the back of his head to hold him to me. The sound of our combined heavy breathing fills his room. All at once, his hips jerk into me then still. He growls into my neck, and then bites me at the point where my neck and shoulder meet.

  The unforeseen move forces my own hips to jerk into him.

  His body turns rigid. He bites harder. I gasp as I feel his cock twitch inside me. He groans low in his throat. Then it’s over. We’re spent. We collapse into each other, chests heaving.

  I am in awe. No wonder people do this, and often. We just finished and I want to do it again.

  My heart races.

  Zing.

  “That was amazing,” I whisper shakily.

  Still connected, Marco turns us onto our sides and watches me intensely. His stare is so deep, so confronting, that I avoid looking into his eyes and dip my chin to his chest. Fingers come under my chin and lift my face. My eyes meet his reluctantly, and I watch his lips twitch. He utters in reverence, “You’re amazing.”

  He lowers his mouth to mine, and my eyes close at
the connection. I feel this kiss deep in my soul. This kiss isn’t an action. It’s a conversation. So much is said in this kiss. My fingertips graze his chin as I deepen the connection.

  I feel his lips curve against mine and I grin right back. He chuckles into my mouth. “So fucking worth it.”

  Dear Lord. I’m doomed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sneaking out of Marco’s room wasn’t easy. Not because I was worried about anyone else seeing me. It was pretty obvious that at four a.m., no one would be awake. The trouble with sneaking out of Marco’s room...was Marco.

  “Don’t leave. Stay here. It’s just a few hours.” Grasping my hand tightly, he argued, “Just have a nap with me. I’ll set my alarm and we’ll get up together,” he smirked while looking over my body, “and shower together.”

  I scoffed, “Yeah, that’d go well.” I straightened and imitated how things would likely go down. “Hey, Bob! Yeah, Cat and I slept together, and now we’re just gonna go shower. What’s that? You’re going to kill me?” I looked down at my stomach and blinked. “You fucking shot me, Bob!” For dramatic effect, I threw myself back on the bed and closed my eyes. “Oh, nuts, I’m dead.”

  Marco’s silent laughter shook the bed and I grinned. He was so easy to talk to and joke with. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more comfortable with a person before him.

  After we had sex, Marco got up and tried to insist I let him bathe me, but there was no way I was going to risk being caught showering with him. Mirage has a communal bathing area, much like a gym or college. Think of the living quarters as dorm rooms—spacey dorm rooms, but still dorm rooms without bathrooms.

  When I refused to shower with him, he sighed as if I were aggravating, got up, took care of the condom and shuffled around his room for a little while. He came back to bed holding a bottle of water in one hand, and a towel in the other.

  The towel was white.

  My eyes widened. I jerked my chin towards the towel and snorted, “I am not using that.”

  He lowered his eyes down at the towel. “Why not?”

  I choked out, “It’s white!” He stared at me, clearly not getting it. I rolled my eyes. “It’ll be red by the time I’m done.”