Chapter Ten.

Nicola had never felt this out of control. Her brain, her body, none of it was connected together anymore. Between Marcus's kisses and his hands on her skin...she lost hold of everything that held her down to earth as in one smooth move he slid her shorts and thong off so that she was completely naked.

As he dragged her mouth down to his for another soul-changing kiss, her hands automatically went to his pants to start unb.u.t.toning and unzipping so that she could get him naked, too.

One of his big hands covered both of hers. "Not yet. Not until you come for me."

Still holding her hand, she was more than a little shocked when he slid both of their fingers between her thighs.

"Tell me how it feels," he said in a low voice.

"Good." She could barely breathe. "So good."

Her thighs were shaking and he held her steady with his free hand as he had them rub their combined fingers over her c.l.i.toris.

"Marcus."

She gasped out his name as jolts of pleasure zipped through her. His eyes flared with l.u.s.t a split second before he leaned forward and captured one of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in his mouth again. She whimpered her pleasure as he had them pressing harder and harder circles with their fingers. She was right there, she was so close, she held her breath as- "Just my hand now."

She barely registered his words before he was letting her hand go so that he could thrust one large finger deep inside of her. She thought she heard him say something about how tight, how small she was, but it was way off in the distance. There was nothing left for her now but to wrap her fingers around his hard shoulders and put all of her energy into moving up and down on his hand.

"Come for me, kitten. I want to see it. I want to feel your muscles grip me when you explode."

Oh G.o.d, she wanted to, and his naughty words had her clenching on him in a mini-o.r.g.a.s.m. She was so close, but the closer she got the more her legs shook.

She wanted to relax all the way, to stop being so shy, to fully give in to all the wonderful things Marcus was making her feel, but one thought kept stopping her.

If she embraced this wildness with Marcus, did that mean she really was the wild s.l.u.t Kenny had painted her to be?

As if he'd felt her hesitation, Marcus moved his hand from between her legs. She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, he was lifting her from the floor so that he was lying back on the bed and she was straddling him on her knees.

His hands stroked her back and she realized that he was going to be true to his word.

Slow and easy.

And that was when she realized it didn't matter what the world thought of her. When she was in bed with Marcus all that mattered was what she was feeling. All that mattered was the intense pleasure that he'd already given her.

Bending over to kiss him, her tongue met his wildly, her desperation making the kiss so intense it was on the verge of being rough.

Somewhere in their kiss, she realized he'd slid his hand back between her legs. A low, pleasured moan escaped her as he slid one thick finger back into her. She was beyond pleased to find that this position made it easier for her to rock against his hand.

"More," she begged as she rode his finger.

"You're too small," he told her, but she could tell from the raw tenor of his words that he wanted to give her more just as much as she wanted to receive it.

She lifted her head up so that she could look into his eyes. "Please, Marcus." She felt a sob of need rise up in her as she came down on his finger again, working to drive him deeper.

She watched him war with himself, a muscle jumping in his chiseled jaw, and then he finally ground out, "Hold still."

It nearly killed her not to continue rocking up and down on his hand and her breath hitched as she felt the pressure of what had to be more than one finger spreading her, stretching her sensitive tissues.

"Nicola?"

Horribly afraid he would stop, she leaned forward, pressed a kiss to his lips. "Please, don't stop."

But as he worked to slide in further, her inner muscles tightened on him. He whispered, "Kiss me," a breath before he tangled the fingers of his other hand in her hair and took her mouth with his. Between kisses, he told her, "Just like that, kitten, f.u.c.k my fingers like they're my c.o.c.k."

A hundred wonderful sensations blurred together in those moments as a huge flood of wetness slickened the path of his fingers. And when he moved his free hand to cup her b.r.e.a.s.t.s so that he could tease her nipples at the same time that the thumb of his other hand found the hard nub of her c.l.i.toris and pressed down into it, she felt it coming. Pleasure as big as a tidal wave. So big she didn't think she could handle it.

No, she knew she couldn't handle it.

She broke their kiss and was putting her hands flat on his chest to try and pull away, when his voice broke through her panic. "Nicola. Look at me. I'm right here with you."

She somehow managed to focus on him as wave after wave of pleasure started to break over her, through her, inside of her.

And when he whispered, "Let go for me," the way he was watching her, as if he'd never seen anything as beautiful-as mesmerizing and magical-in his entire life, was the final key the lock on her body needed to break all the way apart.

Never in his life had Marcus been with a woman this made for pleasure, who came with such wild abandon, who rode his fingers as if she'd never felt anything so good before...and whose climax was practically never-ending.

Sweet lord, he never wanted it to end. He never wanted to forget the way she pulled away from their kiss so that her sweat-slickened body could buck and arch over his as she continued to ride out her release. He never wanted to forget the desperate little sounds she made as she kissed him, gasps that turned into moans. He never wanted to forget the beautiful sounds of her begging for more of his touches, his kisses, for him to take her all the way over the edge.

But he already knew he would never forget those sounds, the incredible sight of the most beautiful girl in the world losing herself to pleasure in his arms.

Finally, she stilled above him, her once taut muscles now loose, pliant, her head dropping to his chest. She was panting and he could feel her lungs working hard to pull in air as she lay across him. Even though he was still fully clothed-and rock hard-he loved the way she curled and nuzzled against him, again his soft little kitten from their first night together.

Still, he'd have to let her recover from that o.r.g.a.s.m another time. Because he wasn't even close to being finished worshipping her. She'd have the rest of her life to recover from tonight. They both would.

From now until the sun came up, she was his.

Giving her no warning, he flipped her onto her back and rose over her stunningly beautiful naked body.

She blinked up at him, her gaze momentarily fuzzy. But then she blinked and smiled before saying, "You're wearing too many clothes."

Her hands moved from around his neck to the b.u.t.tons of his shirt as she worked to undo them. The soft touch of her fingers skimming across his chest had his heart pounding even faster. Her tongue came out to lick her upper lip as she concentrated on undressing him and he couldn't possibly have stopped himself from bending down to lick against it.

As soon as his tongue touched hers, she opened her mouth for him and that simple need to taste her tongue became another soul-destroying kiss.

He could have kissed her like that forever, had the sound of fabric ripping not surprised him into pulling back. She'd ripped his shirt apart and where the b.u.t.tons hadn't been able to come undone fast enough, the cotton had actually shredded.

The next thing he knew, she was dropping his ripped shirt from her clenched fists and running her hands over his abs. Her hands on his bare skin were good. So d.a.m.n good. But he should have known it was going to get even better, because a split second later, his fierce little kitten leaned up to nip at his chest. His muscles twitched beneath her teeth as her tongue came out to lave the small bite.

"I've never wanted anyone like this," she whispered against his chest as she pressed one naughty kiss after another across his skin while her hands moved lower to cup and cradle his cloth-covered erection in her open palm.

He sucked in a breath between his teeth as she closed her palm around him, first tentatively, growing bolder as she felt him thicken even further inside her warm clasp. Gritting his teeth against the intense pleasure of her caresses, he made himself remind her, "Slow and easy, kitten, so that I don't hurt you."

Her gaze flew to his. "You would never hurt me."

Her trust in him landed straight in the center of his chest, in a place he'd thought was closed off for the foreseeable future. It was the same place that had reacted when she'd fallen asleep on his lap, when she'd appeared shy and fresh-faced in the kitchen, when she'd been laughing with the boy and girl who loved her music.

He didn't know how she was doing it, how she was managing to get in under his skin, his bones, all the way down to a heart that knew better. He should have been looking at her as Nico the pop star. He should have been reminding himself that she was going to move on after tonight and forget about him amidst her world of flashbulbs and adoring fans.

She didn't need him. Not past this one night, in any case.

Marcus would never forgive himself if he ended the night needing her.

More than a little angry with himself for an ending that was starting to seem more inevitable by the second, he abruptly moved away from the bed to step out of his pants. He needed a few seconds of not touching her to get his brain to start functioning properly again.

Her eyes widened. "You're beautiful, Marcus."

He knew he had a good physique and plenty of women had looked at him like this before, but it had never affected him so strongly. Maybe because no one had ever looked up at him with such wonder.

Or such trust.

Nicola couldn't do anything but stare.

His body, his muscles-his incredibly beautiful erection-made a mockery of any sculpture Rodin had ever made.

And even though she'd known he was big, without his clothes on he was huge, his muscles rippling as if he did manual labor for a living.

Somewhere in there, she realized he'd slid a condom on over his erection and was talking to her, saying, "Just because I've put this on doesn't mean we have to do anything that you're not ready for."

She'd loved following his lead tonight, but not if it meant he was going to leave out of some strange sense of honor because she "wasn't ready" to be with a man like him. She didn't like how he was still standing beside the bed, his hands in fists as if he was trying his best not to touch her again.

Nicola didn't wait another second-couldn't risk waiting for him to change his mind-before moving off the bed to jump into his arms, her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. His c.o.c.k nestled between her thighs and her name rushed from his lips on a whoosh of air. Loosening her arms a little bit, she let gravity help her sink down onto him. She was so wet, so aroused that despite his girth, she easily took him in those first couple of inches.

Unfortunately, he felt the exact moment her body cried out at the wonderful intrusion.

"No, Nicola, not like this. Not yet."

But his body was saying the exact opposite of his words as his hands came around to cup her a.s.s and his hips started moving in a slow motion guaranteed to ease more of her inside of him. She gasped and her head fell back as she locked her ankles tighter together behind his hips to try and pull him in closer, deeper.

"Am I hurting you?" His raw, rough words reverberated against her neck, his teeth sc.r.a.ping against her pulse point before she could answer.

She wanted to tell him no, he wasn't hurting her, because she knew that was what he wanted to hear. But she'd promised to tell him the truth tonight. She lifted her head to look into his eyes.

"A little. But it's a good pain. I want more of it. More of you."

Before he could tell her they needed to stop, she pressed her mouth to his and kissed him, her tongue wild against his, the little bit of pain rebounding back into shocking pleasure.

Soon, she was lying on the bed beneath him again, sweat dripping down from his chest onto hers as he worked to keep himself still above her. Their mouths came apart and she looked up at him, marveling yet again at how gorgeous he was, his muscular, tanned chest impossibly beautiful, his arms strong, his hips narrow.

"Slower," he rasped out. "We need to go slower."

Maybe they did, maybe that would be a better way for her body to accustom itself to his size, but she wanted the exact opposite. She was beyond ready for fast and crazy. She wanted to know what it would be like for Marcus to lose control with her...and to know that she was the one who had done that to him. She wanted to make him forget everything-everything except how much he needed her, wanted her, had to have her.

Because that was how she felt about him.

And she didn't want to be the only one who needed, wanted, craved like that.

"I don't want slow," she told him. "I just want you. All of you."

She bucked her hips up hard into his, forcing him to give her more, and she couldn't hold in her gasp at the shocking fullness of his body entering hers. Or the fact that with every inch he moved deeper, she felt like he was owning not just her body, but a piece of her soul that she'd never known was available to anyone.

"There's no going back now."

"I don't want to go back," she whispered. How could she, when Marcus was her every fantasy come to life?

But that didn't mean she wasn't scared knowing just how thoroughly he was going to possess her. A possession that wouldn't just be physical, despite the rules they'd set up for their one night together.

She reached for him, put her arms around his neck. "I like you, Marcus. I like you so much."

He bent his head, kissed her softly before saying. "I like you, too."

And then he was rearing up over her, her hands sliding from around his neck to the front of his chest as he braced his weight on his knees and gripped her hips to position himself between her thighs. She gasped as he pulled out and then filled her in one smooth stroke.

His eyes were dangerously dark. "You like that, too, don't you, kitten?"

"Mmm." She couldn't answer, couldn't get her lips to form the words for how much she liked it, but her body was doing a fine job of answering him, rocking beneath the long, hard thrusts of his pelvis into hers.

"Just like that," he urged her. "Squeeze me tight just like that."

As if he held the controls to her body, she felt her s.e.x clench at his encouragement, and both of them groaned as the sensations built, multiplied, extended out to a place of nearly impossible pleasure. She could feel another climax building, growing, taking her over cell by cell.

The oncoming o.r.g.a.s.m hit her so hard it knocked all of the remaining breath from her lungs. "Oh G.o.d, Marcus. Come with me. Please. I need you here."

Her frantic words, her unplanned plea, must have been magic, because in an instant, all of the control that he'd work so hard to hold onto was gone.

He pounded into her with no regard for hurting her, without a thought to whether she could withstand the force of his lovemaking.

And, oh, how she loved it.

How she loved to be in the middle of the hurricane with him as he spun them both higher and tighter, his big body controlling hers so beautifully. So perfectly.

Sounds echoed through the large bedroom, his praise for how beautiful she was, how perfect, along with her moans, gasps, yes, even screams of pleasure. And even when she expected her climax to end-it couldn't go on forever like this, could it?-Marcus continued to rock with her, his hand moving between her legs, rubbing circles of pleasure.

"Give me one more," he urged her, and she was wondering how he knew there was a little bit left inside of her still, when she felt it wash over her, another wave of pleasure, less intense this time, but still so good, she had to reach for him and pull him down over her so that she could kiss him.

Their kiss was lazier now, slower in the aftermath of all that pa.s.sion and intense need, and she loved the way his tongue stroked against hers.

A little while later, he shifted them so that he was on his back and she was lying half on the bed, half sprawled across him. Somewhere in there she felt him shift to remove the condom, but thankfully he was reaching for her and pulling her back against him a handful of seconds later, her head on his chest, with the rest of her body curled over and around his very hard muscles.