Authors: Desiree Holt
“Marc?” She frowned.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I want you to meet my folks but they might not exactly be your cup of tea.”
He laughed. “You mean I might not be theirs.”
“Whatever.”
“No matter. My family will love you. I can’t wait to take you to Sunday brunch. In fact, how about this Sunday?”
“If…if you’re sure.”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I love you. I want you with me forever.”
Emma sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Me, too.”
“We’ll talk about it after.”
“After what?”
“After this.”
He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, pausing only to turn on the little bedside lamp.
This is so right. I belong here with him. I want this for the rest of my life
.
He undressed her with exquisite care, his heart pounding as he exposed each area of her silken skin. Her breasts were heavy in his palms, her nipples taut as he brushed his thumbs over them. With his tongue he laved her taut buds, his teeth nipping them before he pulled them into his mouth. The taste of them was so delicious, like ripe berries, their flavor exploding as he gently nipped them. He could feast on them forever.
He knelt to remove her jeans and thong, his hands shaking with need and hunger and love, his mouth trailing moist kisses over her tummy and her thighs. He took a moment to caress her soft skin, touching the swells and valleys. Beneath his hands ML was trembling, too, and the scent of her musk drifted across his nose. The knowledge this woman would be in his bed for the rest of his life nearly made him come undone.
He lifted one foot, holding it in his hand as he pressed his mouth to her ankle, tasting her, feeling the pulse beneath his tongue. His thumbs traced the line of her calves, his mouth following until he reached her knee. He did the same thing with the other leg, taking his time. He’d waited so long to be able to make love to her without her doubts clouding the issue, he didn’t want to rush. Instead, needing to savor every moment.
Marc caressed her thighs with his open palms, moving his hands up until he reached the seam where hip and thigh joined, framing her mound. He leaned his head forward slightly to run his tongue along her slit. She was shaking badly now, clutching his shoulders with her hands to steady herself, her nails digging into his muscles as he teased her clit and swirled her essence on his tongue.
“Oh, please.” Her breathing hitched. “Please, Marc. I want you so badly.”
“I want you, too, babe, but I want to make this special. I want you to know how much I love you with everything I do.”
“I know. I just…can I touch you, too? Please?”
“In a while.” If she touched him now, he’d go off like a rocket and it would be all over but the shouting.
He rose on legs far from steady and yanked his shirt over his head without bothering to undo the buttons. His gaze held hers as he toed off his shoes then pushed his pants and boxer briefs down his legs and tossed them to the side.
Her eyes on his cock were like twin lasers of unbearable heat. His shaft flexed under her gaze and a drop of fluid seeped from the slit, sifting on the soft skin. She brushed her thumb over the surface, catching the bead. When she licked it with a slow sweep of her tongue, Marc was sure he’d lose it then and there.
“Jesus, ML. Have pity here.”
“I can’t,” she protested. “This week has been pure hell for me. I want to touch you and put my mouth on you everywhere. I’m so hungry for you I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop with one little taste.”
“For the moment you might have to,” he growled. “I can’t wait to be inside you. I
have
to be inside you. Now.”
In one swift movement, he yanked back the covers on the bed and nudged her backward until she was lying on the sheet. Lying down beside her, he moved his mouth over her again—the spot behind her ear that sent shivers through her, the line of her neck, the hollow of her throat where her pulse beat frantically. Down over her beasts, her tummy, a swirl of tongue in her navel. Then the insides of her thighs, the touch making her quiver again.
When he used his thumbs to open the lips of her pussy, she arched up to him in silent urging. His tongue teased her clit before sliding along her slit and thrusting inside. She wrapped her legs around his neck to pull him in tighter, and his low laugh rumbled through her body. He could tell how ready for him she was.
“I love you,” he murmured, rising over her, his mouth on hers as he shared her flavor. “You are everything to me.”
“I love you, too. Even more.”
“Mine.” The word rumbled in his throat. His hands shook as he grabbed a condom and rolled it on then positioned himself, ready to enter her. “All mine.”
“Yes.” Her answer was a whisper. “Yours.”
Very slowly, he pushed inside her, drawing it out so the thick length of his cock brushed every nerve in the sensitive tissues of her cunt.
“Ohhh,” she sighed.
He held himself in place for a long time, watching her face, sending her messages with his eyes and his body. And then he began to move. Slowly first, then faster, one hand sliding between them to find her engorged clit. She felt so good gripping him with her tight, wet heat. He didn’t want the ride to end, but his control, what there was left of it, was rapidly eroding.
In and out he moved, his thumb moving in rhythm with his hips, until she cried out in pleasure and need. Almost there. Almost…almost….
Now, now, now
.
The words boomed in his head. And then they shattered, together, her body clamping down on him, his shaft pulsing inside the grip of her walls. They flew. That was the only description for what was happening. They soared and tumbled, cartwheeling in an explosion of fireworks as spasm after spasm rocked them both.
Then they were still, breath ragged, hearts thundering as their bodies attempted to recover. Marc kissed her cheeks, her forehead, her neck, before rolling to the side and taking her with him, their bodies still connected.
Music Lady pushed damp strands of hair from his forehead and looked up at him, her face still flushed, her eyelids heavy. She wet her lips, the sexy little sweep of her tongue that drove him wild.
“I have something to tell you. Well, a couple of somethings.”
Her name? Finally? There’s nothing holding her back now.
“What is it, ML?”
“Last Sunday was my birthday. I was…going to tell you my name. As kind of a celebration. Especially when the concert went so well.”
Misery clenched his gut as memories of Sunday night stabbed him like sharp swords.
“Ah, babe.” He rubbed his hand over his face.
“There really wasn’t time before the concert and afterward….”
“Afterward it got ruined for you. Shit, shit, shit.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I am so very sorry. I’d do anything to—”
“Shh.” She pressed her fingers to his lips. “It’s okay. Really. That’s all over and done with. In the past.” The look on her face told him she meant what she said. “We can still celebrate. Just a little late. This birthday and all the birthdays to come. Mine and yours. Anyway.” She swallowed. “I just wanted you to know because I had planned to tell you some other things that night, too.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah? Like what?”
“Well, one I’ve already told you, but I’ll keep repeating it forever. I love you.” She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I won’t lie. This started out as a joy ride, a heady thrill, a whole new world for me. But now….”
“Now?” he prompted, his body tense.
“Now I want the joy ride to last for the rest of my life.”
His cock flexed inside her and the tension eased. “We may have things to work through, you know,” he said. “I want to be sure you know that. Like the tour and all the other things coming up.”
“I know. I’m ready for whatever comes, Marc. Just as long as we’re together.”
“That’s one thing that will never change.”
“And I want to write.”
“Yeah?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Write what? You know, I don’t even have any idea what kind of work you do.”
She made a face. “Boring. Just like the rest of my life used to be. I, um, edit textbooks.”
Marc did his best not to laugh, knowing that would be a huge mistake. He just couldn’t see his Music Lady sitting in a dreary office editing monotonous books day after day. Not when she was so full of life.
“So what is this secret dream of yours? What do you really want to do?”
She ducked her head, not looking at him as she spoke. “I want to write fiction. Romance novels. And try to get published.”
“Then I think that’s what you should do. Quit your job if you want to. I’ll be making good money now, with more ahead of us.”
“Really?” Now she looked up at him. “You mean it?”
“Of course I do. Everyone should be able to follow their dream.”
“After all this time I want to chase mine.”
“No problem, babe. I’ll even give up my exercise room so you can have a home office.” A thought struck him. “We are going to live here, right? I mean, I love this house. And we can always add on, but if…”
“Hush. Yes, of course. I’m only renting so moving isn’t a problem. Besides, it would be a shame to leave this place after you’ve put so much work into it.”
“I’ll do anything, figure anything out, to make sure it works for us. I hope you know that. I just want you to be sure. About us.”
“I am. More than sure. All the rest of the stuff? The tour? My folks? Just details. This, right here, is what counts the most.”
Marc was afraid his heart would crack; it was so full. “Does this mean you’ll stay and let me take you to breakfast?” he asked, smiling.
She laughed, a wonderful, musical sound. “I never go to breakfast with men who don’t know my name.”
Was this some kind of game? They were past that, right? “But—”
She touched his cheek. “So let me make the introduction. Hi. My name is Emma Blake.”
A magical warmth traveled through him. “Hi, Emma. I’m Marc. Or you can call me Guitar Man. How do you feel about an invitation to breakfast?”
“I’d love to go to breakfast with you. When did you want to do that?”
He touched his mouth to hers. “How about for the rest for our lives? Forever. On a permanent joy ride?”
She smiled back. “I can get on board with that. Forever sounds just right.”
~
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
~
Desiree Holt’s writing is flavored with the rich experiences of her life, including a long stretch in the music business representing every kind of artist from country singer to heavy metal rock bands. For several years she also ran her own public relations agency handling any client that interested her, many of whom might recognize themselves in the pages of her stories. She is twice a finalist for an EPIC E-Book Award, a nominee for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award, winner of the first 5 Heart Sweetheart of the Year Award at The Romance Studio as well as twice a CAPA Award for best BDSM book of the year, winner of two Holt Medallion Awards of Merit, and is published by five different houses.
Romance Junkies
said of her work: “Desiree Holt is the most amazing erotica author of our time and each story is more fulfilling then the last.”
Visit Desiree online at:
www.desireeholt.com