A thunderstorm raged outside the walls of the DIMera Mansion, but it hardly competed with the storm thrashing inside his own body. 

When he tasted the sweetest taste of freedom of her, it was like mainlining heroin straight into his vein. 

Instant addiction. 

The life he had lived before with Kristen was a dull, bleak wasteland. 

Nothing filled him. 

Everything had lost taste. 

There was only a ravenous hunger. 

The craving intensified until the need drove him mad. He was only given the slightest taste of Marlena before Roman was brought back.

Like taunting an open flame with gasoline, the fire consumed him. And now he was a man obsessed. For the past week, he’d stalked the corridors of this house, purposely avoiding her hallway, as he attempted to expend restless energy. He’d swam laps in the pool and took on too much of his work. 

The more complicated, the better. 

All trying to kill the whispering demons inside his head. 

 

A week ago, they were less than an hour away from the wedding, and his focus should be on understanding the situation with Roman. Instead, Marlena occupied every one of his five senses. All he could see were her beautiful, angelic face, the way her features tensed between agony and pleasure. 

All he could feel was her, the way her delicate body clung to him as he pushed inside her. All he could hear was her, that fucking little voice that whispered of temptation. All he could taste was her…her breath so close to his mouth, all he had to do was drag his tongue over his lips. 

 

Her scent of lavender—the sweet note he could never identify until now—was all around him, tormenting him. Thickening the air until he choked. 

 

John poured another splash of bourbon, an uttered curse falling from his mouth, as he once again in the living room, trying to prevent himself from knocking on her door. 

Now, he was consumed, his thoughts taken over by a frenzied bloodlust that demanded he sink his cock into her. 

A rage so vile and depraved incinerated his veins, he threw the crystal tumbler at the wall. The satisfying smash of shattering glass soothed the burn. The distinct pad of footsteps came from outside the slightly open door, and he knew instantly who it was by the quick, sure tread.

 

As the crack of thunder sounded, he stormed into the hallway and grabbed her arm before she could sneak away. 

“What are you doing down here so late, Doc? I thought you were with Roman…” Eyes wide and mouth pinched, she blinked. “I’m getting a drink of water for Roman,” she answered. “It’s a little humid tonight.” 

John wiped his hand over his mouth, begging the saints for calm. She was wearing a short, thin nightgown that was torturously transparent, and he damn near heard his teeth crack from the gritted pressure. With more control than he feared he could possess for long, he turned his back to her and started toward the living room. 

“Go to bed, it’s late.” 

“Are you okay?” Her question stalled him. 

He drove a hand through his hair as he faced her. “What?” 

“Why aren’t you in bed?” she asked.

A lethal sigh expelled through clenched teeth as he reached for composure. 

“Marlena…go to bed.” 

She crossed her arms over her chest, only serving to amplify her breasts through the gown. The memory of her tender little nipple playing over his tongue surfaced, and he grew rock-hard, his cock pushing painfully to escape his slacks. Her soft lips pucker into a trembling pout.

“I can’t,” she said. 

Curious interest coaxed his next step toward her. “You can’t,” he said, drawing closer, “or you won’t?” 

She bit her lip, and his cock jumped at the seductive sight. As he closed in on her, he straightened his back, towering over her with his full height, his gaze aimed down at her lithe body. She tucked her hair behind her ear and turned her head to look away, but he clasped her jaw, forcing her eyes on him. 

 

Inhaling a sharp breath, she said, “I hate myself for doing this to Roman…but I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

Her admission fired through him like a bullet, hellbent on destruction. He swept his thumb over her delicate jawline, a dark urgency thrumming through his pulse. He could take her just like this. 

He could have her…fuck her raw and hard…and satisfy the craving. He could even break her, and the way she’d look up at him, drowning in her desire, she’d probably beg him to do it. 

 

His hand slipped to her throat, collaring her slender neck with only one hand, the demand urging him to snuff her out before she ruined him. 

He hated that she was with Roman. He hated her for being so fucking beautiful. He hated her for making him want to bury his cock inside her. He hated her for looking at him now with those teary eyes, pleading for him to love her. And most of all, he hated her for stealing the fury of his vengeance. 

He swallowed hard. “Take off your panties,” he said.

She licked her lips. “I’m not wearing any.” 

The muscles in his back locked taut, every sinew and tendon strained as he refrained from tightening his hold around her throat. Despite the clear threat of him strangling her, she reached a trembling hand up and pushed the strap of her nightgown off her shoulder. 

 

“Fuck,” he seethed the curse. Releasing her throat, he took a forceful step back. “Put your clothes on.” 

Rejection simmered in her shadowed eyes as she tugged the strap back into place. “Tell me what’s wrong,” she demanded. 

He whirled around, hands fisted. “You’ve got enough on your mind.” 

A mocking laugh sprung from her mouth. “Obviously, something is bothering you, seeing as I’m here, being punished for it.” Her ire died as quickly as it rose. “John, I know there’s more to this. I deserve to know everything.” 

 

He wanted to laugh, but the truth was too sinister.

 

She sauntered toward him, and when she was so close he could taste her lavender scent, she clasped the collar of his shirt. Wind howled beneath each rumble of thunder, the storm harboring them beneath its fury. 

 

Keeping her eyes cast up at him, mouth slightly parted, she worked open the buttons. He let her slip her hands beneath the shirt, and hesitantly but with purpose, she tenderly caressed her palms over his skin, pushing the shirt open and feeling the scar that crossed his chest. “Who did this to you?” she asked. He was acutely aware of her warm hands and his labored breathing. Her touch lowered his defenses. 

“A man who’s dead now.” 

 

Stefano.

 

He placed his hand over one of hers and removed her invasive touch. Then he slipped a finger beneath the strap of her nightgown and tugged it aside, revealing the little scare she had just above her left breast. His action demanded tit for tat. 

She nodded lightly, her gaze dropping to the floor. He hooked his finger under her chin to bring her eyes back on him. “He did that when I was his captive in Paris,” she said. “Finding ways to live amid the darkness, to change this life for the best. When I traded my body for my freedom, I thought I wouldn’t survive this world. Every time I look at you, it reminds me I’m not alone anymore.” 

Her eyes shimmered, teary and haunted, and so fucking beautiful his chest might crack in two. She captured her lip between her teeth, and the yearning to steal those lips for himself—to feel their warmth and softness against his mouth—became a maddening desire. “Jesus,” he said, taking a step away from her and spearing his fingers into his hair. 

 

She was fucking with his head so hard; he couldn’t think. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“You come down here wearing no panties with stories of your time with Stefano, and… I’m…I can’t. Go to your room before I make you regret leaving the safety of it.” 

 

Thunder was a distant roar now. The heavy pour of rain pelted the windows, filling the silence. A forceful swallow dragged along her throat, and she lifted her chin in defiance. “I’m not as fragile as you think. And you’re not as confused as you claim.” 

He did laugh at that. 

With a sinister smile, he accepted her challenge. 

Her gaze didn’t waver. 

 

Locking her gaze, he spoke. “Show me.” 

 

Fucking hell.

​

**Monarchy - Closer (cover) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FF7SDOYRGNA

​

Every cell in his body wanted to defile her, right here, right now. Then he ate the distance between them, grabbing her hips and pressing her slender body right up against his. “Dance for me, Doc.” A flash of wariness flitted across her features before she began to sway uncertainty. A dark smile pulled at his lips. 

“Show me how bad you hate wanting me.” 

Understanding alights in the depth of her hazel eyes, and she laid her hands on his chest. She swiveled her hips slowly, erotically, rubbing her body against his. He remained still as she found the rhythm of the music, her hands feeling their way along his torso as she dragged her body sinfully down his in a seductive move meant to stir his arousal. 

She turned, placing her backside to him, her ass grinding his hard cock. His hands itched to fist her hair and bent her over, but he balled them by his sides; instead, content to feel her sexy body working against his. He’d watched her dance for him many times. He’d even watched her dance seductively. But never like this—never so close and wanton, as if she was making love to the music, her body a weapon. 

 

She wrapped her leg around his thigh and extended backward, bending her body in a revealing way that tightened the thin gown across her breasts, her nipples apparent through the sparse material. As she straightened, her hair whipped his chest, and she rocked her hips into his, before turning and moving around him. Her moves were wild and reckless, unleashing lust and anger with every sexy dip of her hips and wave of her body. She danced like an angelic stripper, using his body like a pole, and when she traveled to his front again, her hand grazing his hard, throbbing cock, he released a hiss through his teeth. 

 

Every move was torturous, and some sick need in him desired her torture—for her to rip that gown off and show him how much pain her tight little body could inflict. 

Against his will, John reached out and snatched her hair, forcing her head back, as his other hand captured the bend of her knee. He brought her leg up, sliding his hand along her thigh until his palm cupped her ass. 

She was breathless, her gaze trapped in his, as his fingers slipped along the curve of her ass to touch her pussy through the gown. A fierce groan escaped him at the feel of how wet she was, practically soaking his fingers through the material. He ground his dick against the soft give of her pussy, both of them in sync with the heady music, temptation thick and demanding surrender. 

He’d never danced with a woman like this. Allowing her to lead the way, her hips undulating against him and coaxing him to submit. As she swiveled and swayed, he was helpless to stop this from happening. 

 

His mouth latched on to the soft juncture between her shoulder and neck, tasting the mix of her salty and sweet skin. His teeth bare and nip, so tempted to draw blood and sate the carnal predator inside him roaring to devour her. 

“Yes, John…please….” 

 

Fuck, part of him wanted to withhold pleasure, to torment her the way she’d tormented him since Roman was back. But another, more dominant part wanted to spread her thighs and lick her until she screamed his name. 

 

With strength he barely possessed, he pried their bodies apart and released her. He strode over to the mantel and almost broke the stereo as he stopped it. 

“This isn’t ever going to be a fairy tale,” he told her, not able to look at her without his chest splitting. “You’ve got this twisted, Marlena.” Silence pierced the room, dense and charged. Damn. 

 

He wiped a hand down his face, mentally cursing himself. Just the sultry caress of her voice forced him to surrender. “Marlena, I’m not the man you want. If you let me have you, I will tear you apart. I will devour you, break you, and I’ll do so like a glutton with no willpower.” Finally, he turned to face her. “That should terrify you.” 

 

Her lips parted to say more, and he couldn’t allow her to dig any deeper beneath his skin or his head. “Go back to him..” 

 

********

 

His command rocked through her body with a quake that nearly decimated her. Her soul was shaken. John was what she imagined her future to look like—but now, after everything that had changed, she couldn’t imagine a future without him. She’d been through too much. Knew too much. 

She won’t ever be the same. 

“You’re infuriating,” she said, deciding she was not leaving here without knowing what tomorrow will be between them. They’d been living in a state of limbo ever since Roman’s return, and that was a far worse torture than the threat of his violence. 

“This isn’t what I wanted, no…but I’m willing to…adapt.” 

His laugh was callous. “Adapt? That sounds unpleasant, Doc. This was enough for one night. If I have to order you to leave here once more, you’re leaving with a red ass.” His warning heated her face. She was terrified of staying but also scared of letting this moment slip away. 

“Look at me, John.” 

“Keep pushing me—” 

“You’re going to be my husband in the future, and you won’t even look at me. Talk to me. Touch me... When you do happen to glance my way, it’s with disdain lacing your eyes and a cruel, fisted hand. As if the sight of me irritates you.” 

 

He said nothing. 

The dark shadow falling over his face hid his features. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “How can we get married like this? How can we—” she swallowed hard, finding her nerve. “I know you want me. And I know you loathe this situation, but you want me more.” 

 

The blue flames of his eyes ignited awakening a demon.

“You want passion?” he asked, incredulous. “Romance? Love? That won’t happen. Not when Roman is back in the picture, and you’re around him 24/7.” 

“I’m not spending that much time with hi-”

He steps into the sliver of moonlight, revealing hardened features. “You belong to me. Marlena. You are mine. That engagement ring on your finger binds you to me, and so help me, God, Marlena, if you even look at him the way you look at me, I will end his misery.” 

 

Pain lances her chest, his words a brutal blow, leaving no hope. A bitter laugh fell from his mouth, the sound barely audible over the patter of rain.

“You won’t harm Roman.”

“Don’t be so naïve.” 

“I felt how badly you wanted me,” she said, letting go of any fear. “You’re scared. John. Do you think you scare me? Well, you’re just as terrified of me.” 

His blue eyes bore into her, wild and lit. 

 

“You want me to touch you?” 

Her breath seized in her chest. She forced a shaky, “Yes.” There was a heavy moment where he simply looked at her, the air around them as charged as the atmosphere of the storm. 

Then, like a flicker of lightning, he moved. He crossed the room and had her neck in the clutch of his strong hand. He forced her down on her knees, the cold marble floor biting into her kneecaps. “You want to feel what it’s like to be touched and desired?” 

Marlena swallowed against the constriction in her throat, her words trapped. She was eye level with the silver of his belt. 

“I’ll show you”.” He unfastened the buckle and tore the leather strap free from the belt loops. He then lowered his zipper, the sound a threat amid the still room, making her quiver. His pants sagged to expose the massively hard bulge restrained behind his briefs, and a soaking wet heat pools between her thighs. He pushed the briefs down to free his cock. 

Rock-hard it sprung erect. 

 

His hand threaded her hair and gripped, jerking her head back, so she was forced to look up at him, his cock resting beneath her chin. His chest heaves, his heavy breaths filling the thin span of air between them. 

“Take me in your mouth,” he commanded. The moment changed so quickly; she was unsure of what she wanted, terrified to lose herself to him, but even more frightened not to know what she risked by not finding out. With a shaky hand, she reached up and wrapped her fingers around the base of his thick cock. He bit off a hiss with clenched teeth, making her pause, uncertain. 

“You want my touch, Doc, fucking suck it,” he ordered darkly. 

 

Her breasts ached and felt weighty at his filthy words, her nipples tight. She leveraged herself on her knees, her thighs squeezed together to offset the painful throb deep in her core. She licked her lips, and a strangled groan escaped him as she pressed her lips tenderly to the gleaming tip and sucked him into the hollow of her mouth. She licked her tongue up his hard shaft, his smooth skin gliding over her wet tongue easily. He guided her head as he thrust deep into her mouth. 

 

He was so deep, she feared she might gag, but he backed out before plunging again as he fucked her mouth. She leaned into the rhythm, swirling her tongue over the soft head, pulling with a hard suck when he got deep. 

 

It’s like dancing—the most erotic, visceral dance between lovers. “I own every part of your body,” he said as he backed her toward the wall. “I’m the only one touching you. Say it.” She swallowed. “You’re the only one.” 

Her shoulder blades hit the hard surface, knocking the breath from her lungs. He clapped a hand around the back of her neck, his forehead pressed to hers. Their breaths merged in the electrified current flowing between them. His lust-filled gaze darkened as his hand snaked beneath her nightgown. He held her rooted in place, unable or unwilling to move even an inch. The coarse pads of his fingers traced a blazing trail up her thigh as he sought the needy part of her, and, as he touched her, he uttered a harsh curse. She was too turned on to be mortified as he rubbed the wetness around her clit. 

“This is mine,” he said, his voice guttural, possessive. Blistering sparked fire along her skin, his fingers decimating her sanity. She bucked against his hand, her body demanding physically what she was too flustered to ask for verbally. As his finger slid between her slick lips, she trembled, her nerves wrecked and ruined. 

 

He fed off her powerlessness, inhaling her yearning with a deep intake of air. “Fuck.” The grating tenor of his voice was a brutal caress as he found her sensitive folds. “You’re wet only for me. So fucking wet.” 

She watched as he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, eyes sealing shut as if he was pained, his fingertips working harder to open her up to him. Then, without warning, he dropped to his knees. He brought her leg over his shoulder, and his mouth pressed to her pubis, shocking the air in her lungs. He licked a heated path over her slit, pausing to suck her clit into his mouth. 

Desperate for support, she flattened her palms along the wall as the needy ache rocked through her core, deeper into her lower back. One of his hands fisted her gown and bunched it up above her pelvis, baring her completely to him. His other hand clasped her thigh, fingers digging mercilessly into her skin and leaving bruises in their wake as they traveled toward the neediest part of her. 

 

John buried his head between her thighs, and she gasped at the salacious feel of the coarse stubble rubbing friction over her tender skin. His mouth surrounded her wholly, that devilish tongue punishing her clit with purposeful strokes. She reached for his head to brace herself and scraped her fingers into his hair as every erogenous zone on her body lit up. And when his finger sank inside her, tenuously feeling and exploring, her muscles clenched around him, begging him to fill her completely. 

 

She was already so close…teetering on a razor-sharp edge of shattering. 

Then suddenly, he stilled. 

A coughing sound echoed the small monitor the hospital staff installed yesterday, and then a voice, “Doc? Doc, are you there?”

All movement stopped, leaving her so desperate for relief, a knotted pain bloomed in her belly. Her eyes remained shut, her body too deprived and aroused to summon the strength to look.

 

“Goddammit.” 

The deep rumble of his voice snatched her from the brink. Her heart lurched and, confused, she willed her gaze to find him. She winced as he quickly removed himself. A low growl resounded from his chest as he rose to his feet. Staring down at her with smoldering eyes and a face chiseled in accusation, he said, “Go to him.” 

Confusion and pure anguish pulled heavy at her shoulders. 

“John, it’s not what—” 

He slammed his hand flat against the wall beside her face. Marlena flinched, but didn’t dare lowering her eyes or cower. 

 

“He believes you still have feelings for him.” The erratic pulse in his neck fluttered against the vein along his neck. His jaw set hard before he uttered another harsh curse. 

“And you’re lying to him.” 

 

The sound of pouring water filled the silence of the living room. The echo died on the other side of the monitor when the night nurse turned the device off.

 

In a blaze of red, anger replaced her humiliation. “I’m not a liar. I never said I was in love with him. He assumed I was alone.”

A cruel glint reflected in his eyes before he pushed away from the wall, and, turning his back to her, she heard the zip of his pants. 

“You should have corrected him.” The bitterness in his voice wounded. 

“Would you have taken the consequences of what this news might have done to him?” Insult hedged mortification, and she lost the will to care how weak she was perceived. “I can’t take that risk.” 

His shoulders tensed, hands fisted at his sides. “Are we supposed to put our lives on hold? Because tonight, believe me, nothing would’ve given me greater pleasure than brutally tear through you.” 

 

His words were ruthless, but there was a somber tone to his voice now. It eased beneath her anger to soften her resolve. She stepped close to his back and touched his arm.

 

“John, I’m sorry...I shouldn’t have come down here tonight. It was wrong…we promised to wait, we should keep that promise and-” 

“I’m not going to fuck you before we know about Roman’s condition. Is that what you want me to say?” 

It was such a ludicrous statement, she scoffed. “John, please don’t-” 

He moved out of her touch and whirled to face her, hand thrusting out to clasp the back of her neck. 

“Trust me, Doc. You’re too good and compassionate to understand what you’re saying. This hold on my life would end at one point, I don’t know when, but my patience will run out, and then, I will tear through you, and I won’t stop at the sight of your tears. I’ll lap it up and demand more.”

 

Those beautiful blue eyes, vacant and lost, covered her vision. Her body racked with tremors as she tried to hold his gaze. Finally, with teeth gritted and eyes lit with hellfire, he released her. She stumbled backward from the force of it. An emptiness enveloped her as she watched him walk towards the living room doors. 

Wrapping her arms around her body, she glanced between John and the staircase just outside the door. One direction meant safety. The other could destroy her. Out of sheer stubbornness or stupidity, she chose to follow her heart. 

As she entered deeper into the living room, she found him reclining in a leather chair, shattered glass near his feet. 

Forehead braced by his fingers. 

He looked…defeated. 

She entered the darkness of the room. What little moonlight there was after the storm spilled across the marble floor. She neared him slowly, warily, making sure he heard her approach, her bare feet padding the floor timidly as she steered clear of the glass. She stopped before him, the hem of her sheer nightgown fluttering close to his knees. 

 

He didn’t look up right away. He dropped his hand and lifted his head, his gaze following to meet hers. There was a raw vulnerability etched around his creased eyes that crushed her. Her whole body ached for him. 

With an outstretched hand, he touched the hem of her gown. Then he gripped it and pulled her toward him. She slipped onto his lap, knees pushing into the cool leather as she straddled him. 

His hands bent her waist. 

Hers went to his chest, fingers sliding beneath his open shirt to connect to his warm skin. “You won’t leave me alone,” he said. 

 

His statement was more than an accusation. She heard the thread of fear beneath it; they’d both lost people they loved. They’d both been left alone in this world. 

She was not sure how to respond, so she gave him a piece of her instead. 

 

“I didn’t know what to do when we found out Roman was alive years ago,” She said.

“We did deserve a closer back than you and I. You were right about that, but also wrong. I was never the same after that night on your plane. John. I was a mess, I never did anything like that, so I denied myself from having friends. Stefano ruled over my life, he ruled over my children, and you, therefore me. He made that possession possible. My body wasn’t my own…” she shook her head. “I have no regrets loving you. None.” 

He tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers featherlight as they trailed her jawline. He cupped her face, thumb resting on her chin to hold her in his steady grasp. 

“What I’m saying is—” she leaned into his touch “—I don’t want history to repeat itself.” 

 

His thumb feathered across her lips, quelling the tremble she didn’t realize gripping her. “And I can’t be the man who steals that choice from you,” he said. “So, we’re at an impasse, Doc.” 

 

He lifted her hand and placed a tender kiss to her finger, right above the ring he placed there only weeks ago. 

Her heart sank. 

With a shuttering breath, she said, “We don’t have to play by some of our rules.” Challenge sparked in his eyes, until he gripped her waist with a defeated groan. 

“Marlena,” he said, “If you’re to be my wife, I’ll respect you, honor you. Don’t tempt me to brutally take what a man should be willing to wait for.” 

 

Her gaze flicked over him searchingly. She saw both sides of John—two sides of the same coin. He’d protect her as much as his nature will allow. She’d already submitted to her feelings, but could she really live like this—away from John, her whole life—to take a chance with Stefano’s allegedly cure? And the burning question she was terrified to even voice: could he wait for her? For how long?

She licked her lips; a growing need to be closer to him and discover at least part of that answer made her brave. 

“Touch me…” Daringly, she ran her hand up his chest and neck, absorbing the feel of his skin. In a mirror of his hold, she laid her thumb over his bottom lip, lightly touching it, wondering what it would feel like against her lips. She expected him to snatch her wrist, to stop her—but the fire brimming his vibrant eyes provoked her to keep going. The dare hovered between them, charging the air and urging them together like the force of a black hole, where they’ll both be pulled in. 

But who will be lost? 

“You’re so fucking beautiful it kills me.” His words decimated before he speared his fingers into her hair and crushed her mouth to his.

 

*********

 

She tasted of seduction and sin, of heaven and the sweetest temptation. She tasted of lavender, of her white dress and the dark bruises that promise pain. He was fighting to hold back and coming out of his skin all at once. His hands were in her hair, on her body, pushing up the delicate nightgown in order to claim every inch of her skin. He let her have her way with his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders so she could rake her nails down his chest. 

 

He swept his tongue into the hollow of her mouth, eliciting a breathy moan from her that annihilated his control. He thought he was losing the battle when he was devouring her sweet pussy; her mouth devastated him—pure, utter obliteration of any sense or reason. 

He skimmed his hand up her thighs and around to her ass, gripping her soft flesh and shoving her down against his raging cock. Those sexy hips he’d witnessed swivel and rock while dancing undulated and ground against him so fucking hot, he was muttering foul curses between kisses. 

 

He felt her slick heat bearing down through his slacks, and he was a man possessed, not thinking clearly as he let her reach between them and unzip them. But fuck, just the hint of her pussy lips touching his briefs felt so damn good; he couldn’t stop her. When her slender finger slipped between the fly, John groaned darkly against her mouth and circled his hand around her wrist. 

 

“If you take me out…” he said, their heavy breaths mingling, “and my cock touches your wet pussy, I won’t be able to stop.” He felt her clench on top of him, and it was pure, fucking torture. He was almost praying she defied him so he could punish her with a hard fuck—but then the sobering thought of their promise and her bruised conscious spiked his veins. 

 

He still craved her screams as much as he wanted to bring her pleasure. She must have sensed his internal fight. Withdrawing her fingers, she ground against his hard shaft through the briefs, deriving enough pleasure to make her hazel eyes go half-mast. 

 

God, she was so intoxicating, 

 

He was fucking drunk on her. He followed up by palming the flare of her hips, helping her bear down harder. He slipped his thumb between them and gathered up her wetness, and swirled it around her clit. 

“That’s it, Doc,” He said, her derided nickname becoming an endearment as he lost his mind to her. 

“Show me how you fuck my cock.” The filthy words made her shiver, her skin pebbling with gooseflesh, her nipples stiff through her gown. He took one into his mouth, sucking hard and flicking his tongue over the nub through the wet material. 

 

If he removed this gown, it was over—he wouldn’t stop. He was trying to be a decent man here, but he was no fucking saint. “Are you touching yourself at night when you’re alone with him, thinking about me?” He asked her before he nipped her breast, the coarse pad of his thumb working her clit. 

She nodded her head, her blonde tresses tangled and assaulted him, her scent invading his senses and driving him wild with need. He leaned back against the leather chair, arching his hips and thrusting his cock against her soaked lips. He swore he’d never dry humped in his life, and he’d never experienced anything fucking hotter than watching this woman get off on his cock. 

 

“I’m going to make you come, baby. So fucking hard you’ll see stars.” Her gaze found his through her haze of lust, and he brought her mouth to his, sucking her delectable lip between his teeth and dying at the feel of her desperate, clipped breaths. He wanted to pick her up and pin her ass to the back of this chair, eat her pussy until she came in his mouth—but he felt her thighs contracting against his legs, her stomach muscles clenching, as she rode him harder, rubbing her pussy desperately against his rock-hard cock, and by her moans, he knew she was close. 

 

She was almost there, and fucking hell, she was going to take him with her. John deepened the kiss, their breaths becoming one, as he speeded his thumb over her clit and she moaned into the cavern of his mouth. 

The feel of her swollen, wet pussy grinding his cock was a mix of pleasure and pain that twisted his head and, if she wouldn’t come soon, he was going to lose every shred of hard-fraught control. 

 

She pulled away just enough to press her forehead to his, her throaty cries caressing his skin and setting his nerves ablaze. “Oh god, John… Don’t stop—” 

“Fuck.” He fisted her hair around his hand and thrust so hard against her his cock throbbed. He felt the moment she broke, her thighs tensing, nails digging into his shoulders, her back arched in serene beauty as she threw her head back and cried out. 

He was so gone, lured into her pleasure, he barely had the stamina to hold back another second before he felt his cock harden and pulse against her, drenching his briefs right along with her sweet wetness. 

 

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he muttered, absorbing her little exhales into him. Sweat coated their skin, her nightgown damp, and she shivered. 

 

When her eyes opened, he met her there. They were silent for a long moment, no words needed to fill the space. He smoothed his hand over her damp hair, pushing the strands away from her forehead so he could see her face clearly. He placed a tender kiss to her lips, a promise of tomorrow. It has been a torturously long night, and he could see the moment exhaustion claimed her body. 

“I’m taking you to bed.” John scooped her into his arms and rose from the chair. Her arms linked around his neck. “Only if you stay there with me.” 

He didn’t have the willpower to deny her anything right now. This woman has shaken him to the core. He was not sure if he was more terrified of leaving her or staying. In the end, he held her all night, memorizing every curve of her body, his thoughts burdened with only one thing.