I barely had time to nod before he pulled back even more—only to sink in again slowly, torturously, stretching me inch by inch.
I gasped, my back arching off the mattress, my nails clawing into his biceps.
Marcus groaned, the sound gritty and deep, vibrating against my skin.
"Goddamn, Betty," he muttered, pressing hot kisses along my throat. "You're fucking perfect. So tight. So wet for me."
His hips snapped forward, this time with more force, hitting something deep inside me that made my entire body tremble.
A strangled moan escaped my lips, my fingers tightening around his shoulders. Marcus’s lips curved into a smirk.
"Found it," he murmured against my jaw, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
Then—he did it again. This time harder. Deeper.
I cried out, my head falling back, my thighs squeezing around his waist.
"That’s it, baby," he groaned, his hands sliding down to grip my ass, lifting me higher, angling me just right. "Take me. Let me hear you."
I moaned, helpless against the pleasure building inside me, my body moving instinctively to meet his every thrust.
Marcus let out a low, dark chuckle.
"You’re already so fucked out for me," he teased, dragging his tongue along my collarbone. "Look at you. So desperate. So needy."
I felt my face flush, but I couldn’t deny it.
I was desperate. I was needy.
Because nothing—nothing—had ever felt like this.
"Please, more…" I breathed, my hands gripping his hair, tugging him closer.
Marcus grinned, his fingers sliding under my thigh, hooking it around his hip.
"More?" he repeated, his voice like a growl, sending a shiver down my spine. "You sure you can handle it, baby?"
I nodded frantically, my body aching for him to stop holding back. Marcus’s smirk faded, his expression twisting into something darker.
Something possessive. Something hungry.
"You asked for it." And then—he lost control. His pace changed—from slow and teasing to deep, fast, unrelenting.
The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixed with his harsh groans and my breathless moans.
He was everywhere. His fingers digging into my skin, his mouth claiming every inch of me, his cock stretching me, hitting deep, relentless strokes that left me trembling.
"You feel so fucking good," he growled against my mouth, his thrusts turning harder, sharper. "Like you were made for me."
I whimpered, my fingers sliding down his back, feeling every shift of his muscles, every tense roll of his hips.
"Say it," he ordered, his lips ghosting over mine. "Tell me who’s fucking you this good."
I gasped, too overwhelmed to form words. Marcus let out a low, dangerous chuckle.
"That’s okay, baby," he cooed, his thumb brushing against my swollen, sensitive clit, making me jolt, cry out. "I already know."
And then—he rubbed slow, deliberate circles over my sensitive spot, syncing the motion with his deep, relentless thrusts.
My body tightened. The pressure coiled inside me, winding tighter and tighter, so close to snapping.
"Are you gonna come for me, my pretty girl?" he murmured, his tongue flicking against my lips, teasing.
I nodded frantically, pleading with my body, with him, with everything inside me to just let go.
Marcus growled, his fingers tightening around my thigh, his pace turning brutal, punishing.
"Then come for me, baby," he commanded, his voice pure sin. "Scream my fucking name."
And then—I shattered. The orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, my entire body tensing, convulsing, pleasure ripping through me in sharp, blinding waves.
"Marcus!" I screamed, digging my nails into his back, my body completely at his mercy.
Marcus groaned, his thrusts turning erratic, his entire body shuddering.
"Fuck, Betty," he growled, his grip bruising my hips. "I’m gonna—"
With one last deep, powerful thrust, he came, groaning deeply as he spilled inside me, his body tensing, shaking, completely undone.
He collapsed on top of me, his weight warm and solid, his breath hot against my skin.
For a moment, neither of us moved. We just lay there—panting, tangled together, bodies still buzzing with aftershocks.
Then—slowly—Marcus pulled back, brushing his fingers along my cheek. His lips curved into a smirk.
"Told you I’d ruin you, baby."
I rolled my eyes, still trying to catch my breath. "Shut up."
Marcus just laughed, pressing a soft kiss to my swollen lips. And as I lay there—completely spent, completely his—I knew nothing would ever be the same again.