Devoted: The Blackwell Lessons Part 18

My stomach drops. 'Why did you have to mention her?'

'Sophia, I'm not going to dance around your jealousy. She's a girl from my past who meant nothing to me. Nothing at all. I've already told you that.'

'She's obviously on your mind.'

'Hardly. I just remember how she was around food, that's all. A pain in the backside.'

'I don't want to talk about your ex-girlfriend.'

'She's not my ex-girlfriend. She's just a girl. Nothing more. I want you to grow out of this jealousy of yours. And the only way to do that is to confront it head on.'

'Grow out of my jealousy? Like you've grown out of yours?'

'I admit, I still have my moments.' A smile spikes Marc's lips.

'So I can still have mine.'

'From time to time. But Sigourney is a girl you're going to be working with for the next few months. You have to get over this one, Sophia. Having said that, you're f.u.c.king s.e.xy when you're angry.' He strolls around the breakfast bar and turns my stool to face him. 'f.u.c.king, f.u.c.king s.e.xy.'

'Don't joke about this Marc,' I huff.

'And irresistible.' He presses his lips against mine. Then he lifts me into his arms and carries me towards the staircase.

'I'm still angry with you,' I mutter.

'Anger is good. It gives me something to work with.' Marc carries me up the stairs.

'We haven't finished talking,' I say. 'This isn't over.'

'Is that any way to speak to your husband?' Marc walks into one of the many guest bedrooms. 'Don't struggle. And by the way, you look even more beautiful when you glare.'

Marc gives me an infuriating smile as he lays me gently on the bed.

I've never been in this room before, and feel the mattress ripple gently underneath me in the weirdest way.

'Oh!' I gasp. 'What's wrong with the bed?'

'Nothing. It's a water bed.' Marc leans over me, palms holding my wrists either side of my head. 'It arrived today.'

'Are you actually pinning me to the bed, Mr Blackwell? If I'd known this was your idea of marriage ...'

'It's exactly my idea of marriage,' says Marc, his eyes on mine. 'A good obedient wife obeying her husband. And if she steps out of line ...'

'She gets punished?'

'Exactly right.'

'And here was me thinking you'd given up your controlling behaviour.'

'I'm not controlling you. Leave if you want to.'

I laugh.

Marc cups his ear. 'What was that? You don't want to leave? You'd like your husband to teach you good manners?'

I feel the weight of his hand, still pinning wrists down. And see his long body come to sit astride mine.

'I'm sorry, I couldn't quite hear you,' says Marc. 'Did you say you wanted to leave?'

'No,' I mumble.

'Thought not.' Marc lies between my legs and I feel the hardness of him against my thighs.

The bed ripples beneath us.

Marc reaches down and tilts my head. 'Do you see that? In the corner?'

I follow his gaze.

'What is that?'

In the corner of the bedroom is some huge metal frame thing that looks like exercise equipment. Except there are all sorts of leather straps over it ...

Marc smiles. 'Your surprise.'

34.

I wriggle under Marc, but his hands return to my wrists and hold me firm.

The bed wobbles.

'Let me up. I want to see.'

'You'll get up when I tell you to.'

'Oh stop it. We're married now. You can't keep bossing me around.'

'Says who?'

'Says me.'

'As usual, I have to take a firm hand in your pleasure. Because you don't want to admit that me taking charge turns you on.'

I glare at Marc. 'G.o.d you can be a b.a.s.t.a.r.d sometimes.'

'A b.a.s.t.a.r.d you're in love with.'

Marc kisses me, pressing his whole weight down.

I let out a sigh, melting under him and moving with the watery mattress.

His hardness presses insistently against my thighs, and he forces my legs further open with his knee.

I swallow hard as he lifts my leg and deftly undoes my shoe laces.

Within seconds he's pulled off my s and s and is sliding off my jeans.

As he pulls my panties down, he rests his head between my legs and moves his tongue in circles.

'Ohhh,' I moan, spreading my legs wider.

His tongue moves firmly as he pushes my knees to my chest.

The bed ripples under me and my thighs tense with pleasure as I rock back and forth.

Marc's tongue stops circling and his head moves up my stomach, kissing my navel, ribs and between my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He pulls my legs around him, and I feel his hardness between my thighs again.

Taking one breast firmly in his hand, Marc sucks hard with his strong lips, pulling white flesh into his mouth.

'Oh!' I cry, my hand finding his hair.

He responds by sucking harder, and my fingers tighten against his scalp.

'You're going to give me a love bite,' I moan.

Marc's lips drop free. 'Exactly right. I'm marking my territory.'

He presses his lips back against my breast, sucking with a ferocity that makes me cry out.

When he finally releases me, I see an angry red mark.

'Interesting place to give me one of those,' I say.

Marc moves his lips to my neck, murmuring against my throat, 'I can't very well mark your neck when you have filming to do.'

'You don't have to mark me anywhere,' I say, feeling red hot between my legs.

'Oh yes I do.' Marc's lips move around my throat and up to my ear. Then he whispers, 'Because you're mine.'

I wrap my legs around his backside, my hands finding their way into his hair again.

He responds by pus.h.i.+ng himself between my legs, moving his hand down to guide himself in.

I am SO ready for him, and he slides easily inside.

I feel him fill me up and moan loudly, my thighs tightening around his hips.

As Marc begins to move, we float on the bed, ebbing and flowing.

I'm lost in so many sensations the gentle movement of the bed, the lapping sound of water in the mattress ... and Marc, Marc, Marc, his hard body and hands and relentless lips.

We move together in perfect rhythm, and my eyes close as heat and pressure build.

'Oh Marc. Oh G.o.d. Oh G.o.d, Marc. Marc!' I cry out, tightening my body around him, grasping his thick brown hair.

Marc responds by pounding harder and faster, the bed moving like a tidal wave.

I cry out Marc's name and pull him deep inside me.

As I cling to Marc, sweat p.r.i.c.kling my forehead, I expect him to take a few more strokes and make us both come. But instead he pulls out and turns me over onto my hands and knees, caressing my backside with his large, strong palm.

My skin is tingling all over and his hand feels so good.

Marc lines himself up between my legs. He teases me for a moment, circling his hardness between my legs.

I let out a low moan.

'Open your legs. Wider.'

'Marc. Please ...'

'I thought we'd already cleared up who was in charge today,' Marc whispers, his fingers tightening in my hair. 'You, Mrs Blackwell, will do exactly what I tell you. Now open your legs.'

Obligingly I move my knees apart and feel Marc's hardness just where I want him. But he moves back.

'Marc,' I beg. 'Please don't tease me.'

'If I wanted to tease you I'd do a lot worse than this,' Marc growls. 'Now Mrs Blackwell. Clear something up for me. Do I have something you want?'

'Yes,' I stammer.

'And are you going to do what I tell you?'

'Yes.'

'Good. Keep perfectly still. I don't want you to move a muscle. I won't be accused of tiring you out.'

'I'll try,' I say, feeling the bed sway beneath me.

'You won't try,' Marc growls. 'You'll do.'