Vivian Arend - High Risk

He bumped the head of his cock against her opening, and she tilted her hips to help guide him back in. Her sigh of happiness matched the shiver of satisfaction that shook her to her toes. “Fuck me. Please, don’t stop.”

He kissed her and plunged in, swallowing her groan of pleasure. Three or four more times, deep and hard, burying himself to the root and pausing before withdrawing slowly, teasing her already quivering nerves.

She slipped her fingers higher and flicked the tiny gold bar the way she knew was most effective, and that was it.

“Marcus . . .”

He covered her mouth with his and stopped her screams from echoing off the roof as her climax broke her apart. Her sheath constricted around his heavy shaft, tearing his response from him. Wetness and heat bathed her as he ground their hips together, moving the clit bar and prolonging the ecstasy flooding her system.

They clung to each other until the shaking stopped, their breathing uneven and ragged as they gasped to find control. The continuing clatter of the party below them rose to the balcony. Tinkling of glasses, the low murmur of masculine tones, the occasional higher-pitched female laugh.

Sophisticated and mature sounds. Miles away from the hell, yeah whispering past her lips.

Marcus caught her chin in his hands. “You are one in a million.”

He kissed her again, less like a starving animal and more as if he were a good friend who’d missed her. Wetness trickled down the inside of her legs as he withdrew his cock.

Marcus stared. When she would have wiped herself clean, he pinned her arms back. “Wait. That is so fucking sexy.”

His gaze locked between her thighs, he squatted and ran his fingers through his seed and her wetness, stroking her labia lightly.

She shivered. “I’m not going to be able to walk if you touch me again.”

The intensity on his face should have scared her. She’d spent the past few days trying to figure out exactly what she wanted to work on over the next months. Making sure she was clear on her desires, her needs. Who was in charge of her life. All of it, not just her sex drive.

When he cupped her sex so delicately, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped her clean—

All her organized thoughts vanished in the continuing desire he stroked from her willing body. This man could turn her best plans to nothing with a single glance.

He cleaned her, straightened her stockings, planting kisses on the insides of her thighs as he smoothed them into position. Easing his palm down her skirt to help it lie neatly over her ass. All the while, wearing an expression of huge satisfaction.

“Since I plan on hanging on to you for the rest of the evening and even dancing, you might want to try to look a little less contented before we head back to the ballroom or there will be no doubt whatsoever we were up to something.”

“They can all be jealous I’ve got the most beautiful girl in the room.”

Marcus stood and pressed her to the wall, and she let him hold her there. She smoothed his hair with her fingers. “That was lovely. Thank you.”

He nodded. “Would you accompany me home after the gala tonight?”

Asking, not ordering. Politely worded even. She beamed at him. “I’d like that very much.”

Grinning like the conspirators they were, they slipped back down the stairs, pausing outside the party.

Becki tugged him to a stop, smoothing her hands over her hair. “How do I look?”

“Like you were ravished by a madman against a wall,” he whispered.

A snort of laughter escaped before she could stop it.

Marcus pirouetted her, his gaze lingering on her legs before snapping back up to her breasts and finally her face. “You look gorgeous. I can’t wait to show you off.”

She twirled a finger and he obediently rotated for her inspection. All the long, lean length of him, moving at her command, and when he faced her again, she couldn’t speak.

He lifted a brow. “That bad?”

“That good. I’m drowning in my drool over here.”

He held out his hand and escorted her back into the frivolity. Small talk and music. Happy smiles, and the occasional questioning look. Marcus hadn’t bothered to wear his prosthesis, and the gazes of people who didn’t know him stuttered to a stop on his pinned-up jacket sleeve.

Becki pulled him toward the side of the stage, ignoring the curious. They were there; the event was going well. Inconsequential things could be ignored. And tonight she would go home with him. Even having one thing settled was a relief.

Happy endorphins still hummed through his bloodstream, making it far easier to give in to Becki’s determined tug across the ballroom. Marcus would have been happy leaving now, but if he had to put in a little more face time, hiding with his team was as good a place as any.

The women held court over the Lifeline team, Devon shadowing Alisha.

“Did you speak yet?” Becki asked Alisha.

The blonde shook her long curls. “David said to wait until the top of the hour, so about fifteen minutes still.”

“Marcus, you wash up pretty well,” Erin teased. “So good to see you. Isn’t it good to see him, Anders?”

“Shut up,” Anders grumbled.

Marcus eyed them all. Erin’s grin was far bigger than usual—normally it was Anders wearing the Cheshire grin while his pilot carried herself with far more control. “What did I miss?”

“Name the last time you showed up at one of these events,” Anders complained. “Erin bet you’d be here, but I went with the odds. You cost me fifty bucks.”

“Well, sorry for being unpredictable, but it’s the best way to keep you on your toes.” Anders stared rather pointedly at Becki on his arm, and Marcus laughed. “Also, can’t help it if you aren’t more observant of what’s happening around you.”

A flash went off to their right. Marcus blinked rapidly as he twisted to face the culprits. Ted and his cohort with the camera smiled politely, but their focus was on Becki and not the team, and all sorts of warning signals went off inside.

“There you are.” Devon stepped forward, strategically plopping himself directly in front of Alisha and Erin. “We were talking about you. We thought a photo shoot by the windows would work if you’d like to wait until after Alisha’s spoken.”

“Sounds great,” Ted agreed. “First, I wanted to get a few general questions answered.”

Marcus squeezed Becki’s fingers where they lay on his arm. He backed up, doing the same as Devon and blocking Ted from a clear shot at the ladies. “We’ll leave you to them, then.”

He turned and tucked an arm around Becki. Trying to make their departure look less like fleeing and more like a casual need to get somewhere else.

Ted didn’t let them take more than a few steps before raising his voice loud enough to be overheard by the partygoers standing nearby. “Before you go, Becki, did you have anything you wanted to share regarding your accident?”

Goddamn reporters. Marcus was going to rip his head off. Becki pulled to a stop, patting Marcus’s arm soothingly. “Don’t worry, it’s not an issue.”

She smiled at the curious onlookers as she turned, facing Ted with a slight shake of her head. “Actually, no. I think you can find everything on file you need. If you don’t mind . . .”

“I meant regarding the new developments,” Ted interrupted. “Will you be going back to Yellowstone for the funeral now that they found your partner’s body?”

It wasn’t a gasp that escaped Becki, more like a total and complete cessation of breathing altogether. Marcus caught his arm around her as she wavered. Questions and confusion rose on the air as the news spread rapidly, as those who hadn’t been aware of Becki’s presence caught hold of the word and turned to see what was going on.