Mark (Next Generation Carter Brother #9)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Freya

Mark lifts me at the waist before the door fully clicks shut. Red hot arousal slams into me as my back hits the cabin door.

His mouth clashes against mine with urgency, stealing my breath.

Feeling bold, I unhook my legs, wanting down. I want to make him feel as crazy as I do. I want him to feel the same need as I do. I slide my hand into his shorts, fisting his cock in my hand. Thick and long, I remember how good he felt inside me.

But first…

He groans as I begin to pump his hard length in my hand. He thrust his hips as his fingers unclasp the button on my shorts.

“Not yet,” I softly scold.

“I want you naked.”

Reluctantly, I pull back, letting go of his erection. He watches me as I slide off my shorts and knickers. My top is next, and so is the bra. He still doesn’t look away as he fists his cock, gliding his hand up and down.

“Fuck, you are beautiful.”

“Now you,” I rasp.

His flip flops are already by the door, so his shorts come down first. When he’s pulling his T-shirt off though, I kneel down in front of him, wanting his cock in my mouth.

“Fuck!” he growls, fisting my hair when my lips close around the head of his cock. “That’s it, suck me.”

My head bobs up and down. It’s slow, seductive, and when he hits the back of my throat, I do the little trick I read about and swallow, causing the hand in my hair to tighten.

I hum, glancing up at him. He’s watching me. Watching his cock slide in and out of my mouth. He runs his hand down to my cheek, his thumb pushing down on my lower lip.

“Unless you want me to come in your mouth, you should stop,” he growls. I hum around his dick again, knowing how much he enjoys it. His pupils darken. “Stop!”

I don’t. Instead, I slide my hand up between us, cupping his balls. He groans, pulling me back by my hair.

It’s rough, but not to the point it’s painful. His cock slips from my mouth, and I lift my hand to wipe away the saliva.

“Your turn,” he growls, lifting me up. He throws me down on the bed, and I go to shuffle back, but he grabs my thighs, roughly dragging me until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the mattress.

“What…” I stutter.

There’s a gleam in his eye, a dark promise. He spreads my thighs. “It’s my turn to taste.”

I arch an eyebrow. “I’d rather you were inside of me.”

He grins. “You’ll have me. But I want to taste you first.”

I’ve never been a fan of a man going down on me. Most guys don’t know how to pleasure a woman. They treat our clits like a button on a game controller. And don’t even get me started on them not licking the right spot. It’s disappointing and annoying.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” I tell him. “It would be such a let-down if you don’t know what—”

He drags me further down the bed until my arse is hanging over the edge. He kneels, cupping my arse, and my breath catches in my throat as his lips close around my clit. Not my vagina lips, not my piss hole, or the flesh above my bladder.

My clit.

And my god, he feasts.

I drop my head back, moaning. He’s stretching my thighs open, and the vulnerable position only heightens my arousal. I’m literally wide open for him.

“Oh God,” I cry when he sucks and flicks his tongue across the tight little bud.

I reach down, my fingers gripping his hair as he fucks me with his tongue. His fingers slide through my folds, and I arch as he inserts a finger, then two, pumping them in and out until I feel my wetness dripping between my crack.

When he pulls back, I protest. “What are you doing?”

He grins, wiping his mouth against my inner thigh. I should be grossed out, but the move is kind of hot. “I want you to come around my cock. I’ll make you come with my mouth later.”

“I’d rather come over your mouth first,” I protest.

He chuckles, getting back to his feet. “So you don’t want my cock?”

I tilt my head to the side as he pumps his cock with his fist. “I didn’t say that. But you were doing such a good job.”

He grins wider and positions his cock at my entrance. “I’ll fuck an orgasm out of you,” he promises.

“But why stop a good thing?” I complain. “You—” I cry out when he shoves himself inside me without warning. There’s a slight sting as I stretch around him. “Fuck me.”

He pushes my knee to my chest, his fingers biting into my thigh. “Fuck, you’re so tight. So wet.”

His jaw clenches as he draws back, leaving just the tip of his cock inside me. When he slams back inside of me, my entire body lights up, my clit pulsing with the promise of an orgasm.

Sex has always fascinated me. You’re either good at it or you aren’t. And since most of my bed partners didn’t particularly care if they were good or not, I made it my mission to make sure I was. The lad I lost my virginity to was a wham, bam, thank you, ma’am kind of guy. I only managed to get off whilst we were kissing and I was dry humping his cock. With Danny, no matter how much I tried to experiment with new things, he wanted to keep it vanilla. There was never any passion. Not really.

My last hook up was two weeks spent meeting up for a quickie. Although he never set my body alight or made me come, he did like to try new things, giving me a chance to learn what I liked and what I didn’t. I also learned what he liked and what he didn’t.

It was not like this.

He didn’t take control of my body the way Mark has. He never made my stomach flutter or my clit pulse from his charming words.

He never fucked me like he was punishing me.

This is new.

Different.

It is sheer fucking heaven.

“More,” I plead as he thrusts inside of me.

He moves my leg until it’s swung over his shoulder, and with a grunt, he slams inside of me harder. My pussy clamps around his cock at the move, feeling sensitive.

Leaning down, he sucks my nipple into his mouth, and I moan, arching to his touch.

“Yes,” I hiss, digging my fingertips into his shoulders.

“Fuck,” he growls when I clench around him.

I meet him thrust for thrust, still needing more. He must sense it because he pulls out, his breathing hard and laboured. “Why are you stopping?” I complain.

“Turn around and grip the headboard. Don’t let go!” he warns.

I must not move quick enough because before I’m fully turned, he has his hands on my hips, spinning me over. He runs his palm down my spine, following the curve, before pressing down on the small of my back.

“Fuck,” I rasp, feeling light-headed.

He knows exactly where to touch me, which buttons to press to get a reaction. He slides his cock through my slit, mixing his pre-cum with my juices.

I need him inside of me.

I crave it.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, you are going to be sore tomorrow,” he growls.

I glance over my shoulder, arching a brow. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He slams inside of me, forcing me back by my hips. “Fucker!”

He’s brutal as he slams inside of me. If it didn’t feel so good, I’d complain, but he’s hitting the right spot with the right amount of pressure.

It’s rough, deep, like he can’t control his reaction any more than I can.

“Fuck me, your arse,” he groans, gripping onto it with one hand. “I wonder if your arse is as tight as your pussy.”

I feel his thumb press against the tiny hole, and I tense. “I don’t think so.”

“You like it,” he accuses, pressing the tip of his thumb inside my arse. “I can feel how wet you are.”

“Oh God,” I groan, thrusting back against him. “Just fuck me.”

He does, and my breasts bounce at the force, causing a moan to slip past my lips.

I’m close.

“I’ve never fucked anyone in their arse,” he mentions, thrusting harder.

“It’s good to have dreams,” I argue on a moan.

“I think you like the idea.”

“So you are deluded as well as a dreamer,” I cry.

His thumb slips free, and I should sag with relief that he hasn’t gotten any ideas. Instead, I can’t help but want him to do it again. No one has ever done that to me before. No one has ever mentioned anal.

Yet now, my mind is wondering about it.

Would his cock in my arse feel as good as it does in my pussy?

“Fuck,” I hiss when he grabs my hips. He’s going to leave a mark.

“Come for me,” he demands.

“I…” It’s there, on the brink. When his hand moves around me, finding that tiny bud of nerves, he presses his thumb against it, just like he did my arse.

I throw my head back, my fingers gripping the headboard until my knuckles turn white. I cry out as wave after wave of pleasure rolls over me.

“Yes!” he hisses, slamming inside of me harder.

Once, twice.

Then I feel his cock twitch, his thrusts slowing as he pumps his cum inside of me.

I drop my hands, pressing my cheek to the bed as my strength leaves my body. His cock twitches as he presses a kiss to my spine.

He pulls out, dropping down on the bed beside me. “I hope you didn’t skip any meals today,” he warns.

I arch an eyebrow at him. “And why is that?”

He turns to his side, running his hand over my back. “Because I don’t plan on us getting much sleep. You’re going to need your energy.”

I grin, patting his chest. “You are so cute.”

His eyebrows rise. “You don’t believe me.”

An unladylike snort escapes my mouth. “I’m man; I can go all night,” I tease in a deep voice. “Why do men always make pointless promises?”

He grabs my hand, pressing it against his cock. My eyes widen when I feel it harden. “Trust me, it’s not going to be a problem.”

“Jesus Christ, did you take a Viagra?” I question.

His eyes narrow into slits. “No.”

“Are you sure someone else didn’t slip you some?” I ask, genuinely curious. But there’s no denying my lady parts are so on board with this. It’s like I’ve missed out on sex my entire life and now I need my fill.

He grabs me by the hips, lifting me until I’m on top of him. I sit up, my thighs on either side of him. He lazily lifts his hands, playing with my tits. “I’m going to fuck these too.”

“You really are a dreamer,” I state, sounding bored.

When I’m anything but.

There’s just something about a guy paying attention to your tits during intercourse.

“Up!” he demands.

I raise my arse just enough for him to line his cock at my entrance. Before I can tease him, mess with him, he’s pulling me back down, impaling me on his cock.

“Jesus,” I whisper.

“Ride me,” he orders, going back to playing with my tits.

And so I do.

Not letting him back up when he demands it.

Not even when he grips my hips, trying to take over.

I ride him, grinding myself on him. I feel powerful, like a succubus seducing their prey as I stay in control. The intensity of that power is what brings me to another orgasm.

Later that night, we shower, where he brings me to orgasm on his knees. I return the favour, loving the control I feel when I give a blow job. It’s why I like doing it so much. It’s the most sensitive part of a male’s body. It can hurt or be pleasurable. I like knowing I can bring a man to his knees with my mouth. There’s just something about a man losing their mind over your mouth on their cock. It makes me feel sexy and wanted.

Both of us crash not long after the shower, but it’s not long until he’s waking me up. The first time is to him bringing me to orgasm with his mouth on my pussy. The second time I wake to him inside of me. That time is slow, controlled, but nonetheless erotic.

When I wake up the next morning, he’s lying on his front, his leg cocked up. I quietly slide out of bed, not wanting to disturb him.

I don’t think my pussy could take another round. I am truly spent and sore in the best way. Grabbing my clothes, I head into the bathroom, making quick work of getting dressed and freshened up.

When I step out of the bathroom, I glance back at the bed. He hasn’t moved an inch.

I never expected him to seek me out last night. I thought our one night was just that. One night.

It wasn’t until he stormed over to our table that I realised the real reason why I put distance between us. He might make me angry, might push me to want to commit murder, but he also makes me laugh. He stood up for me, something only Summer and my nanna have ever done. He didn’t mind his words, or coddle me. He treated me the same as he would anyone else, and I didn’t realise just how much I needed that.

And every time he goes head to head with my sister and Danny, the wall I built around my heart to protect me from further hurt, crumbles.

He has the power to bring it all down.

I lied to him last night. Not on purpose. I just didn’t realise it was a lie until he took me again at four this morning. I truly don’t want a fling with him. I also meant it when I said I didn’t want a relationship. But after he took me slow last night, feeling how gentle and attentive he can be… it’s not that I don’t want a relationship. I’m scared he won’t want one with me. But I’m also scared that he might.

There’s no denying the attraction between us, but there’s more there. It’s not superficial or centred to the bedroom. I like him as a person.

And that could be bad.

Really bad.

With that last thought, I sneak out, putting some much-needed distance between us for a little bit.