A Harem of One [The Moreland Brothers 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) (8 page)

“What is it of?”

“I’m not going to tell you. Your mission is to tell me tomorrow afternoon after you ride him like a rodeo bronc tonight.”

“Woman, you better be talking about me back here.” Charyn stood in front of the doorway and frowned, even though the words carried no heat. He was a large man and blocked all light from the drooping sun. Jamie took that as her cue to leave, and Charyn backed away, allowing her out. She heard Charyn say something, Makenzie giggle, and a zipper lower. Didn’t matter whose, as Jamie just kept walking.

Jamie took up her original post and held up the wall, waiting. She didn’t have long as Marques and Charyn assembled the guests to form an aisle for the bride and party to walk through. Charli had already changed her dress and only needed to hear the music for her entrance. Charlene chose both her mothers to walk her down the aisle. Deven looked as if he were near tears the whole time, and Charli openly welled up. Charli was a diva, but she had never shone as she did today. Her skin glowed from hourly orgasms and sun. The dress was beautiful and unmarred. Thank heaven for small favors. The gown was cut simply in front, skimming Charli’s lithe frame to the ground. The back was dangerously low and sported a small train. The veil was a tiny one, just long enough to frame her eyes. And the flowers were spectacular. Tiny rosebuds barely open clustered to a tiny fall over her clasped hands. When Charlene reached her soon-to-be husband, he pulled her close and kissed her breath away. Jamie watched him mouth “Thank you” as the ceremony began. At the end of the ceremony Jamie was alone, and she didn’t like it. But she accepted it as her due. A person like her didn’t deserve to be happy, but she had to let her musings go as the event was over and there was work to be done. Marq cornered her without much effort after the last tipsy guest was assisted off board.

“Let me come home with you tonight.” The question took her aback, even as she consciously expected the request. He wasn’t satisfied earlier, and she owed him one.

What’s Love Got To Do With It?

Jamie only nodded to give consent to her desires and gave him her body without hesitation. How trite of her, for the bridesmaid to walk away from a wedding to hot sex with the groomsman. But she found that she could care less and let him help her to the car.

The drive went by in silence for the most part. Marq was a controlled, yet impatient driver and had them at her house in no time. He escorted her out first and carried their luggage in the foyer, then inside. The moment the door closed, Marq dropped the bags, a glint in his eyes. Jamie still felt apprehensive about having sex with Marq. She knew she wanted him, so bad she could taste it. Why shouldn’t she let him have his way with her? He would certainly be better than the man she wasted years with. Even though Jamie had decided to give in to her body for this one night, she felt hunted. The natural response would be to run, and she tried to. Every step he took, she backed up one to match.

“Stop running, Jamison.”

“I–I’m not.” Yet even as she spoke the words knew them for the lie they were. She ran, but she couldn’t stop herself. She tried to. He was more than she had ever handled. But her pussy throbbed and ached for the man strolling over to her. He started undressing, in one motion taking off his shoes, another step his jacket. When he reached his undershirt, he tugged that off as well.

“So you’re just going to—”

“Yep, I suggest you do the same. If you want to keep the dress, that is.” The expression on his face spoke to the fact that it didn’t matter to him either way. Jamie couldn’t strip for a man she had never slept with. She tried to give him her best stern face, but she was too confused and aroused to succeed. She was poleaxed and stunned stupid.

He had gotten close enough for Jamie to really see his tattoo. She was amazed. His whole chest and washboard abs were inked up and she suspected the back of him matched the front. She felt her pussy spasm. Jamie needed to feel him skin to skin and, desperate to feel their mutually inked flesh touch, she unzipped the dress from the side and let the sleeveless princess neckline hit the floor. Her lip was gnawed swollen from her teeth. Marq grinned and tore the wrapper off a condom, the gold packet hitting the floor even as he rolled the sheath on. He was hard but so heavy the length of cock never rose higher than his thighs.

What did I get myself into? No wonder my friends are always screaming.
After that moment even her thoughts felt stuttered. She couldn’t help it, but found herself backing away until her back hit the wall.

Marq’s eyes glinted brightly, and he walked the two steps needed to crowd her in.

“So you want to start in here? That’s just fine with me.”

His face dipped low, and Jamie’s lifted to meet him. When their lips met, a matching set of groans clashed. Marq apparently had no intentions of keeping his hands to himself and spread her legs to peel her sodden panties off. Her mound was smooth and only had a tuft of hair above her slit. She was soaked, juices clinging to her parted thighs. Her panties were just as juicy, still wrung wet from her last climax. Her tongue was probing his, soft and sweet. Marq’s tongue tease showed her he wanted her hungry and desperate.

“Wrap your arms around my neck.” No sooner than he spoke, she clasped him at the base of neck, interlocking her fingers. Marq used his heavy shaft to probe at her opening. He didn’t enter her, and each pass of his head over her blossoming sex left them both longing. He stopped playing with her damp folds and finally wedged the thick mushroomed head at the mouth of her. Jamie let gravity take her hips lower, gaining inch after inch of him.

“Yeah, Jamie, take it. All of it.” Marq’s voice was hoarse and low, his forehead propped against hers.

Her only response was a bone-deep shudder as he filled her inch by inch, leaving her wanting and groaning for more. The sensations were delicious, too much to take, even as she longed to feel the rest of him. She hadn’t had many men in her life, and the couple she had in the past were nowhere near this potent or hung like Marq. God knows he was so much man. But the heavy press of cock took her thoughts elsewhere in short order, and she merely allowed his possession to eat at her until she couldn’t think only feel. He seated the remaining inches inside her, letting her get accustomed to him and the need. She spent long moments groaning and angry, needy and begging.

“Want more, Jamie?” His voice was lust dark and inflamed her with heat.

“Yesss.” The singular word whispered over her, and she let it, neither clarifying nor expounding on her statement. There was no need to.

“Good. I want you hungry.” His statement was clear and left no doubt he was being anything other than brutally honest. Marq shuttled his hips in tiny rotating motions, gouging digs of cock, similar to scraping a spoon in the belly of a bowl for the last vestiges of ice cream.

“Oh!” She felt his cockhead butt her cervix when she jerked and shuddered in his arms, before her back scraped along the wall.

Jamison was lost, and need burned through every vein she possessed. He was too large, more than she’d ever taken. His thick cock seemed immense and angry with blood as she watched each retreat from her spongy sex. The back and forth riposte of thrusts left her gasping, and for once in her life she didn’t make the attempt to control her stammer. The only words that she spoke with any clarity were for more of his punishing strokes. With every plea from her lips, Marques only responded with his hips. His gaze was brutal, as if she were stripped bare for his every desire. But he never once spoke other than to vocalize a groan or grunt in cadence with their vertical mating.

Jamison knew she was chatty enough for both of them. Every touch made her crazy, needy, and wanting more of it. Each thrust left her begging for mercy, even as he refused to give quarter. The best part was she wanted no mercy from his drilling strokes, digging deeper with every pass of cock and slurping wet snatch. She shuddered and laid her head against the wall as he popped her with his motions. The next sensation she registered was the wall as her back scraped the rough drywall softened only by the beige paint that coated its surface. Marq shimmed hotly against her in one full-body pass ending with his lips meeting hers roughly. His hips moved nonstop, sibilated inside her. She was lost, and her body was his for the moment. There was no work required on her part at all, and gravity took care of most of the job for her. She merely followed him, let his body push her farther up the wall. She couldn’t even look at him, and the way he made her feel was too intense for words, let alone to experience.

* * * *

Marq was engrossed in the wet clasp of walls and stunned at how vocal she was. He loved it, listening to her groan and stammer for more. She was a turning out to be a bit of a mystery. With her near-cloistered life, she dressed to camouflage every appealing trait she had. But beneath the skin she was ready to burn. He could see the real Jamie crawling to get out. Jamison made him nuts, and he found he was unable to even speak to her now. She was a woman on fire, flamed over and around him with passion. But unknowingly she refused him the one thing he needed to make this moment Kodak worthy. He needed to see her worse than he required another breath. The look in her eyes would complete the gritty fuck he served her. Marq swallowed, opening his sandpaper dry mouth to speak for the first time since he sank in her sword-swallowing sheath.

“Look at me.” She complied, giving him what he waited for. Her gaze was wet, burning him through. God she would be beautiful on camera. The word was too weak to describe the look in her eyes, it couldn’t capture the way her eyes spoke volumes. Her eyes were starving, needy and he let the heat in her face burn through him. He watched her bite her lips as if trying to hold herself back from him. When his mouth touched hers it was an automatic response to quell the abuse to the ripe, red, plush skin. But he was less gentle than he wanted to be and treated the lower lip the same way she had. Roughly. But the gasp that she squeaked into his lips told him how much she liked the harsh need carried with his kiss. The sex became too good, and their kiss became a mutual groan eaten by their hungry mouths.

He listened to her beg him to end it. “Stop–p…please.” He would comply, just to fuck with her a little. Then with the next breath she would ask him for the opposite. “P–p–please, don’t–t st–top.”

“What do you want, Jamison?” Marq let the smirk boiling beneath the surface emerge with a curl of his lips and a nip of her pouting mouth. “You sound a bit confused.”

She didn’t respond at first, and he slowed the pace of his strokes. Her mouth opened to speak, but no words left the bruised pout. She followed his prior demand and still fixed her molten chocolate gaze with his. She was amazing in every way, wet walls gripping his cock as they fucked. Her lack of rhythm was exposed with her responding motions offbeat and jerky. The fix was simple, and Marq employed his hands at her hips with firm pressure to coax her into following his lead. A scant fistful of deepening thrusts later, she was in flawless sync, hips matching his. But the way he worked her was too good, and he knew he was going to spend like a wet-behind-the-ears prepubescent. She had to come soon to salve his ego.

He had to stop himself, but it was nearly impossible. Even as he stilled for control, Jamie’s wet pussy suckled and rippled around him, though he had pinned her hips to the wall. Marq bit his tongue in a pathetic attempt to keep himself from coming. It may have worked if she didn’t take the pause to draw a deep breath and lick her already moist lips. The quicksilver flash of tongue was enough to make him lose it, and he came in her before he bucked his cock again. The five harshly scraped thrusts were enough to bring his twitching lover with him. She screamed and seized around him, and the sensory overload forced his orgasm to linger. He leaned against her slick flesh to keep from sinking into the floor. His forehead butted hers, and Marq panted in an attempt to breathe normally. He had to have her again, but first he needed to learn how to use his legs.

When every nerve in his body stopped tingling, Marq pulled his still-turgid length from the lockjaw grasp of her pussy. His departure made them both gasp as a flood of hot sex-slick fluid ran down her legs before her juices puddled to ruin the fabric of her dress, crushed beneath his feet. When Jamison’s feet hit the floor, her eyes shuttered to a nearly perfect blank, and Marq knew she was attempting to come back to reality. But she didn’t know he wasn’t going to leave her there for long. She was going to give up her too-tight panties tonight.

He saw her walk away from him, as if he were dismissed. She wasn’t going to get away with that, especially as he’d just been balls-deep inside her cloying heat. Marq followed her so closely he thought he could feel the skin pebble and the brush of raised hairs along his skin. Abruptly she stopped.

“Do you know the meaning of personal space?” Her words were clipped, and the cadence staccatoed her usual velvet speech.

“Well, since we just made a puddle on your dress, I would think I’ve already been in your space.”

“Ahh–hh excuse me.” Her grunted reply was mismatched by the shiver of inked scales along her spine. The shimmy of permanently stained flesh made his cock rise to the occasion again. But before he fucked her again, he had to figure a few things out first. He waited until she walked in the shower before he started his campaign to ruffle her now too-collected demeanor.

“How long have you been a yogi?” The simple query left her stunned. He saw the disbelief in her eyes when she stumbled over the tub ledge. Marq caught her before she fell and hurt herself.