Fulfillment

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Back on the dance floor, few words pass between us. Our bodies do the communicating. The combination of Marcus’ commanding presence and the music and my own building anticipation work on my senses until my thoughts and vision blur and become a spiral of desire and demand for release. I let the music move my body as it wants. I had neither the desire nor the will to resist. 

It. Is. Amazing.

As the music fades one last time, Marcus does not release me. Instead, he tightens his embrace and draws me upward. Our lips hover, his breath mingling with mine. I want his to kiss me. I want more than that, actually. But I’d settle for a kiss right now.

His tongue snakes out and flicked the bow of my lip. “Will you submit to me tonight, Gabrielle?”

The realization of why we are together comes rushing back and my head spins even faster. Thoughts buzz around my brain and realization dawns through the fog, hazy, distant.

The key.

Marcus will teach me something this night. This night, only. I tamp down the pang of disappointment before it has a chance to do much more than spark. Tonight was about freedom. Was he to be a one-night stand to free me of my inhibitions? Or, like the ghost of Christmas Past, was he to show me what I had and where I went wrong and free me from the regret I harbored? 

Whatever he was teaching, I wanted to learn.

“Yes.”

“Let’s go upstairs.”

We are moving through the crowd before my thoughts find a coherent path, my hand wrapped securely in his. The key he wears bumps the inside of my wrist and the silver dangling from my neck kisses the curve of my breasts. 

Marcus opens a door to reveal a staircase and motions me inside. As I take the first step, the door closes, trapping us in the dimly lit corridor. I hear his heavy footfalls behind me, comforting but alarming. 

My heart pounds furiously, each beat vibrating in the tender flesh between my legs. Heat radiates through my belly, my breasts pucker as the warmth rolls through me, my sex awash in liquid fire.

Marcus’ hands slide up the back of my thighs, lifting my dress to cup my nearly bare buttocks in his palms. I stop, my left leg one step up from my right. A soft moan escapes as he gently squeezed each cheek.

“Such a beautiful ass.” He brushes his lips across the flesh and I shudder. “Sweet.” His finger breaches the cleft and teases the outer ridge of my femininity. I gasp and clutch the railing for support. Already lightheaded from the desire, I shut my eyes to the lights dancing before my vision. 

Marcus gives my left cheek a playful slap and I let out an uncool eep in surprise. 

He growls against the hollow of my back. “Upstairs. Now.”