It was two days later when Lauren noticed a change.
She’d woken up to find herself alone in her bed, as always, and walked out to find Marc in the kitchen, cooking eggs and bacon at the stove. He looked over his shoulder as she came toward him and gave her a half-smile. “Breakfast?” he asked.
Lauren nodded and sat down in front of a still-steaming cup of coffee. There was a paper folded on the table and she picked it up, going through the day’s news. Emma was already sprawled out under the table. There was some sand in her fur, which meant that Marc had probably already let her run along the beach for a few minutes that morning while he watched from the deck. He did that most mornings, keeping his eye on the house through the glass door. Usually, the sound of his whistle was enough to wake her up.
“You slept in,” he said, placing two eggs, over-easy, and three slices of bacon down in front of her. “It’s almost eight.” She’d gotten used to rising at six or seven and that didn’t seem to change, despite the fact that she no longer had to for work. “Good dreams?”
Lauren wanted to tell him no. She wanted to tell him that she’d had nightmares all night. That he dreams were filled with Jack. With his eyes, his smile, his hands…
Lauren wanted to tell Marc that she’d woken up at four AM, exhausted beyond compare, but that his face next to hers had been the thing that calmed her down. That the fact that she had slipped out of his embrace sometime during the night had somehow given her nightmares. That all she’d wanted to do was wake him up and make love to him until the sun rose and then fell again, over the horizon.
Instead, she just nodded and gave him a smile that she hoped didn’t look forced, putting heat into her eyes and voice. “Very good dreams,” she purred and Marc’s eyebrows rose, surprised.
“Is that so?” he asked, grinning, as he placed a second plate—his own—onto the table, but ignored it, instead reaching for her.
As every time before, Lauren went willingly, allowing Marc to lift her from underneath her thighs and carry her to the nearest wall. Her back slammed into it and Lauren gasped, letting out a deep, guttural moan as Marc attached his lips to her throat. He grinded into her, allowing her to feel his hardness through the barrier of his jeans. They wore little else. Marc tended to go through the day without a shirt on and Lauren preferred to walk around in the morning with nothing but his shirt on her body.
He growled against her ear as he pressed his hand to her heat, feeling just how soaked she was for him. He nibbled on her earlobe and she moaned, her hands tugging at his hair as her legs tightened around him, her hips undulating against his. “Please,” Lauren gasped. “More!”
Marc chuckled deeper as he pressed kisses to her jaw, moving down her body, inch by inch, until he reached the spot where she’d buttoned his shirt onto her body. It was only a few—three or four—but Marc’s eyes narrowed at the sight, his eyes flitting back to hers.
“You trying to hide from me?” he asked, in mock anger.
“N-no,” Lauren gasped as she continued to move against his hardness. “Never!”
“Damn right,” Marc growled, removing his hand from between her legs so quick that Lauren whimpered before she could stop herself, her hips rising to follow the direction of his fingers. She watched as he brought his hand up to his own lips, biting her lip as she saw her own juices running down his wrist. Marc made sure that she was watching him as he brought his fingers into his mouth, one at a time, licking the moisture off, his tongue poking out with each digit. Lauren watched, hungrily, her eyes practically glossing over with lust as she felt her own mouth go dry. She swallowed, thickly, leaning forward, as if to take his fingers into her own mouth, but Marc pulled them away and she emitted a whine.
Before she could complain too much, Marc reached behind her, grasping her hair in his fist as he slanted his lips firmly over hers, rubbing his entire body over the length of hers, pressing her more firmly into the wall. Lauren gasped against his mouth and nibbled at his lips, playfully. She breathed heavily as she felt him release from the confines of his jeans (she still had no idea how he was able to do that while holding her up against the wall at the same time, but she wasn’t complaining) and press insistently into her core. He didn’t enter her, though. Not yet.
Not until she begged.
“Please!” Lauren sobbed. “Please, Marc!”
“Please what?” he growled in response. “What do you want me to do to you, Lauren?” He removed his hand from her hair and stroked down her body until the top button of her shirt was held between his thumb and forefinger. With little more than a tug, all four buttons ripped off of the shirt and she gasped.
“Oh God!” Lauren exclaimed as her breasts were bared to his hungry gaze. “Please,” she whispered again.
“Please what?” Marc growled. “If you don’t tell me, I’m going to have to take care of myself.” He lowered his hand, the back of his knuckles brushing against her clit, bypassing her pleasure as he gripped himself and began to stroke his own shaft, letting out a soft moan of ecstasy.
“No, don’t!” Lauren gasped. “Please, don’t.” She reached for his wrist, pulling it away from his length as she stared him right in the eye, replacing his fingers against her center. “Please,” she said, again, “please…make love to me.”
Everything seemed to stop for a long moment. The world stopped spinning. There were no noises or movements or air for them to breathe. There was absolutely nothing between them. Nothing but this…thing that existed between them, now. That may have existed since the first moment she laid eyes on him. And vice versa. But neither of them had ever put any words to it until now.
“Make love to me,” Lauren repeated, boldly, feeling her throat clog with emotion as her eyes filled with tears. “Please, Marc. Make love to me. Make love to me. Make love to—”
He cut her off with his mouth over hers, finally entering her as he covered the entirety of her body with his own, his arms binding around her waist and pulling her away from the wall. Lauren could feel every step he took, around her, inside her. She could feel the emotion in his kisses as he kept his mouth pressed firmly to hers. She could feel the reverence in his touch as he ran his hands up and down her back, squeezing her thighs, touching her where they were joined. She whimpered at the feeling of him going deeper inside her than she swore he’d ever been before. She dug her nails into his shoulders as he laid her down on the bed—their bed—and pulled his hips back, before slamming into her again and staying put for a long moment, allowing them both to feel the way she still stretched around him. They let out twin groans as they held each other through their pleasure.
For a long moment, Lauren rejoiced in this connection that they had. She’d felt him inside her before—so many times before—but it had never been like this. There had never been anything but passion, but fire in their embrace. She’d never felt…love. And he had yet to voice it, but she knew, just from having him inside her, that he felt the same way as she did. That this thing between them was more than just sex. More than just lust that would disappear when he left. If he left.
She was certain that he wouldn’t dare leave her now.
Maybe it was that positivity that had her screaming out his name within seconds of him beginning to pound into her again, his fingers linking with hers above her head, her legs wrapping around his waist, ankles locked at the small of his back as she rode out the waves of pleasure. Marc pressed his lips to her jaw and she could swear that he was whispering words of love and promise in her ear, but she couldn’t make them out past the ringing and creak of the bed beneath their sweaty bodies.
When he finally came inside of her, bringing Lauren over the edge with him, Marc called out her name, pressing his hips firmly against hers, his hands squeezing hers tightly. He pumped once, then twice, then three times, before he collapsed atop her, covering her body like a heavy blanket that she never wanted to take off. Lauren pressed a kiss to his temple as he rested his face in the crook of her neck, finally allowing himself a moment of just feeling and nothing else. No pretenses or masks.
It was just Marc.
When he rolled off of her, several moments later, she turned with him, their fingers still tangled together between them. Marc didn’t avoid her gaze like he usually did. He didn’t attempt to turn her around or tuck her against his chest or close his eyes and pretend to sleep. He didn’t turn away or get out of bed or divert his gaze to some other part of her body. He kept his gaze fixed on Lauren’s, trying to communicate with his eyes what he couldn’t yet say with his lips.
He cupped her cheek after a couple of seconds and leaned forward, kissing her lips firmly. When he pulled back, he whispered her name and Lauren’s eyes popped open.
“I’ll never hurt you,” he promised, his voice low and honesty in his blue eyes. “Never.”
A gentle smile spread across Lauren’s lips. “I know,” she said, with a small nod. And she did know, with every fiber of her being.
*****