Chapter 4
Marcus remained buried inside her, the last of his release still warm and thick between them. Elena’s cheek pressed against the disordered sheets. Her breath came in shallow pulls. Outside the tall windows the storm had settled into a continuous roar of rain and wind. Lightning still flared at irregular intervals, briefly illuminating the room in stark white before plunging it back into shadow.
He withdrew slowly, the thick length of him sliding free with a wet sound. Come followed, spilling down the inside of her thigh. Marcus ran two fingers through the mess, collected it, and pushed it back inside her cunt with deliberate pressure. Elena shuddered.
“Keep it in,” he said. “I want you walking around this place full of me.”
He stood, pulled her up with him, and led her naked from the bedroom. Their bare feet left faint damp prints across the dark hardwood. The open-plan living area was still lit only by the intermittent storm light and the city glow far below. Marcus stopped her in the center of the room, turned her to face him, and kissed her hard—tongue deep, teeth scraping. One hand gripped her ass; the other slid between her legs and pushed two fingers back into the slick heat he had just filled.
Elena moaned into his mouth. Marcus walked her backward until her shoulders met the cool glass of the floor-to-ceiling window. The city stretched out behind her in a blur of rain-streaked lights. He lifted one of her legs high against his hip and guided his cock—already rigid again—to her entrance. In one smooth, powerful thrust he buried himself to the hilt.
The glass was cold against her back. His body was scorching. Marcus fucked her there with deep, steady strokes, the wet sound of their joining loud in the high-ceilinged space. Elena’s hands clutched his shoulders. Every impact drove her harder against the window. Rain streaked the other side of the glass in thick rivulets.
“Anyone looking up could see this,” he muttered against her throat. “See you taking my cock like a desperate little slut. Does that make you wetter?”
“Yes,” she gasped.
He increased the force, hips snapping forward. One hand reached between them to rub her clit in tight, relentless circles. Elena’s head fell back against the glass. The dual pressure—thick cock stretching her open and the rough friction on her swollen bud—pushed her toward the edge with brutal speed. She came hard, crying out, inner walls clamping down. Marcus fucked her straight through the orgasm, never slowing, until the last tremor faded.
He pulled out, spun her around so her breasts and cheek pressed to the glass, and entered her from behind in one long stroke. The new angle let him go deeper. He gripped her hips and pounded into her with short, powerful thrusts. Elena’s hands splayed against the cold surface. Condensation bloomed around her fingerprints. Marcus reached around, found her clit again, and rubbed without mercy while he fucked her.
“Come again,” he ordered. “I want to feel it while I’m buried in you against this window.”
The second climax hit harder than the first. Elena’s knees buckled. Marcus held her upright with an arm around her waist and continued thrusting through the strong pulses of her cunt. Only when she was shaking and oversensitive did he pull free. He turned her, dropped to his knees, and buried his face between her thighs.
His tongue was immediate and filthy—lapping through the mess of their combined release, sucking hard on her clit, thrusting into her opening. Elena’s hands fisted in his hair. Marcus ate her with single-minded hunger, the wet sounds of it filling the room. When he added two fingers and curled them against the sensitive front wall while his mouth worked her clit, she came a third time with a broken cry, thighs trembling around his head.
Marcus rose, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and guided her toward the long dining table in the open kitchen area. He bent her over the polished wood, spread her legs wide, and drove back into her cunt from behind. The table creaked under the force of his thrusts. Elena braced herself on her forearms. Marcus reached forward, gathered her hair into a rough fist, and used the leverage to pull her back onto his cock with every stroke.
“Look at this,” he snarled. “Bent over the table, full of come, taking it like you were made for nothing else. Your cunt is a fucking mess and still greedy for more.”
He slapped her ass hard enough to leave a bright print, then did it again on the other side. The sting sharpened every sensation. Elena pushed back to meet him, chasing the building pressure. Marcus reached under her and rubbed her clit with firm, circular pressure. The combination of deep penetration and direct stimulation dragged a fourth orgasm from her in a long, shuddering wave. Her arms gave out. She collapsed onto the table, cheek pressed to the cool wood, while Marcus continued fucking her through the aftershocks.
He pulled out near the edge of his own climax, stroked himself twice, and came across the small of her back and the curve of her ass in thick, hot ropes. Elena felt every pulse. Marcus spread the fresh release over her skin with one hand, then pushed two fingers back into her cunt, mixing everything together.
“We’re moving,” he said, voice rough. “Kitchen counter next. I want to watch your face while I fill you again.”
Elena pushed herself upright on unsteady legs. Come slid down the insides of her thighs. Marcus caught some of it on his fingers and pushed it into her mouth. She sucked them clean without being told. The look he gave her was dark with approval and unfinished hunger.