Marie Harte: Below the Surface

She had piled her hair on top of her head in a loose knot, exposing a graceful length of creamy white neck. Her face glowed with a sensual energy, and a hunger for him and him alone.

Marcus could only blink in shock. First his father and now Tessa? Talk about ‘too good to be true’. Not about to waste any more time gawking, he gave her a seductive smile and slid into the water, his clothes disappearing like magic.

He stroked towards her without thought, at home in the water as he was nowhere else. With a surety that slid through his body like song, he swam fluidly, at one with his element. He was at Tessa’s side in an instant.

“I’ve been waiting.” She pouted, her full lips drawn in a poised frown.

“Too long,” he agreed. Reaching out, he fondled her bare breast, his hand curling around her flesh like the water that so lovingly embraced her.

She gasped and threw her head back, and he covered her like an all-encompassing wave. His mouth found hers with ease, slipping into her moist warmth with welcomed acceptance. Her tongue teased his, battled for mastery and gracefully conceded to his strength.

He couldn’t keep from groaning at how perfect she felt in his arms. Like the other day in his office, her curves rubbed him in all the right places. Her skin felt silky smooth under his touch. Her breasts and strong, smooth thighs swam against him with need, magnifying his lust.

His cock was full, painfully hard and near to bursting just from touching her. He could only imagine what loving her would be like.

She had long fingers, and she stroked him as if she knew just where to touch him. Ah, but it was his dream, he reminded himself, and with that in mind, he let down all his barriers.

Gone was the subtle charmer with the cool, blue stare. In his place churned a harsher, less patient lover. At another time he would indulge his fantasies and explore the woman who so fascinated him. But now he needed release, an escape from the stresses and the never-ending sexual ache that plagued him whenever she neared.

He caged her between his arms, his hands gripping the pool’s ledge. Pinning her against the wall of the pool, he shoved her legs apart under the water, engaging telepathy and his command of water to shape her body as he desired. The water held her limbs fast, her thighs outstretched, her arms imprisoned on either side of her body. Her helplessness further excited him at finally having the assertive woman under his control.

He saw her answering desire as his flesh grazed hers. Tessa’s need washed over him, inciting his lust even further. Without pause he surged deep inside her in one long, harsh breath. She gasped and tried to move, but his will held her still as he began thrusting inside her.

“More,” she panted, and he increased the pace. Her slick walls accommodated him with ease, and the more he pummelled, the hotter she grew. She writhed and moaned his name, seeming as eager to have him touch her as he was to feel her responses.

His hands roamed over her wet flesh, grazing her nipples and flicking them with his tongue as his cock delved into her sweet cream.

“Later, sertia ,” he rasped as he thrust. “Later I’ll lap your honey with my tongue, and I’ll make you come so hard you’ll beg me to do it all over again. Anywhere, anyplace.”

She gasped and groaned his name as waves of passion crashed over her. Nodding helplessly, she gave something of herself to him when she opened her desire-glazed eyes. Awash in feminine energy that shimmered with power, Marcus could no longer hold onto his control.

Her pussy clenched and sucked him further into her core, and he plunged deeper and harder until his climax burst over him. Hot seed jetted from his cock, quickening through flesh and fluid to the pure heart of her energy.

On and on his orgasm rushed, making him lightheaded as her power washed over him. When she had drained him of his passion, he gazed down at her awestruck expression with a pleased one of his own.

Her full, parted lips reminded him of the danger-sweet cherries growing wild in Tanselm’s forests. Once past the spiny protective layer coating the fruit, the sweetness of the berry burst upon the tongue, leaving an unforgettable taste.

Running a finger over her petal-soft mouth, he watched with satisfaction as her pupils dilated, passion spiralling once again.

“You aren’t as immune to me as you’d like me to think,” he murmured, recalling the many instances at work when she’d avoided him.

“Maybe.” Her eyes locked on his, full of fiery desire and spirit that made him want to devour her whole. Incredibly, he felt aroused all over again. The water churned around him, responsive to his feelings.

“Tell me what you really want, Tessa.” He resumed thrusting inside her, slowly, as his cock hardened with each stroke deeper into her honeyed core.

She kissed his nipples as he thrust, her mouth exciting him into a frenzy of need. Her lips pulled and tugged, eating away at his control. Soft, silken limbs broke free from his will holding her tight, touching and tantalising until he felt his climax upon him.

“I want you , Marcus. The River Prince, king of my heart, lord of my soul, father of my sons—”

A bright light flashed, and Marcus sat up with a groan as he spilled into the satin sheets covering his bed. He shook as his orgasm consumed him, panting for breath as Tessa’s phantom eased his sexual needs. Staring around him with wide eyes, it took Marcus a moment to realise his time with Tessa had been nothing but a fantasy.

Catching his breath, he stared down at his messed sheets, wondering how in the hell this had happened. Sure, he’d been without a woman for a few weeks, but he’d been without one for longer and hadn’t exploded from a mere dream.

Frowning, he wondered just what had happened, and if his experience had been a dream, or something far more significant.

Tessa woke with her heart pounding and no idea why. She stared unseeingly at her white ceiling, counting the cracks around her light fixture until she could catch her breath. A glance at her alarm clock showed Saturday had arrived, the time and the sun’s rays attesting to the lateness of morning.

Instead of feeling rested, however, she felt shaky and a bit dizzy, and for the life of her she couldn’t recall what she’d been dreaming about.

After her whopper of a Friday, she’d retired to bed early, fantasising about making Marcus Storm look like the jerk he was in front of her company’s bevy of female clients.

Wearing a loincloth and nothing else, her eye-candy would apologise until he was hoarse, worshipping her with his eyes while steadfastly promising never again to sleep with his clients.

Tessa’s eyes widened as she remembered she’d accused the company’s wonder boy of doing just that, and for a moment she couldn’t think. The reality of yesterday hit her, and she slumped deeper into her bed.

After stirring her libido, Marcus Storm, seemingly unaffected by their encounter, had dashed her confidence to shreds by leaving her shaking like a leaf and bereft in front of his desk. Then he’d had the gall to accuse her of sleeping with Davis. As if she’d do anything that repulsive…

But hadn’t she accused him of something similar? her conscience asked. “But it was something I’d heard from almost everyone on his floor.” And since when do I listen to the company grapevine?

Shame flooded her and she knew the decent thing, no matter what a conceited ass Marcus Storm might be, would be to apologise for making such an accusation. He might be a jerk, but that didn’t mean she had to act like one. Tessa was a Sheridan. She had standards.

Making the decision to right the wrong she’d committed felt good, until she recalled part two of her disaster of a Friday. Her brother’s phone call had ended her less than perfect day perfectly.