I Take Thee (9 page)

“Don’t be.” He curled a hand around her shoulder, the other lifting to clasp her chin and force her gaze to his. “Look at me.”

It took her a moment to do so, and even now, after all these years as boyfriend-girlfriend, and one as man-and-wife, her stomach filled with flutters at the sight of those deep black eyes boring into hers. “I admit, Marly, that I was a little scared about this at first. But, now I’m not. This is a really amazing gift you’ve got, and it just makes me so damned proud of you, baby. I’m…look,
here
.” He took her hand and pressed it to the large bulge between his legs. “I’ve had this all day for you. Can’t you see how much I want you?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you know how much I love you?”

Yes, oh, yes she knew. He’d shown her a thousand times, in a thousand different ways, how much he loved her. Not just in the way he looked at her, or in the way he said her name, but the way he’d take his shirt off for her, the way he’d pour the last drop of milk in the fridge for her, and the way he’d slowly and surely, through all these years, made every one her dreams come true. He’d shown her his love by being there, through every tear and smile and whatnot, by being so passionate…so utterly devoted. Yes, there were heroes in real life. And he was completely, irrefutably, a hundred percent hers.

But all those ways he’d shown her how much he cared…that was
before
the crazy hormones,
before
this unexpected, shattering piece of news. “Yes, I do know, M, but will you love me still…after all this?”

“What the hell do you think my love’s made up of, Marly?”

She was almost going to apologize; he sounded so outraged, and in turn made her feel silly. But before she could utter a word, he cradled her face in his warm, gentle hands and fiercely whispered, “I’ve loved you my whole life, and I swear every day I love you a little more than the last. I’m not stopping—ever. And you know what?” A smile tilted the corners of his lips, spreading wide and reaching all the way up his eyes. “I think it’s pretty cool. Daughter of a wacky scientist—we already knew that—and daughter of a lion-shifter. That’s the stuff of Hollywood, let me tell ya.”

She elbowed his ribs, and he made a big show of wincing, then he righted up on the seat and smiled. “Better than son of a divorced socialite with the greatest pearl collection in the city,” he said with a hint of solemnity, a hand curling around the steering wheel.

She instantly regretted every single one of those fights about his mother’s habit of calling them early every Sunday, not to mention the woman’s habit of name-dropping some uppity politician’s name every few syllables. God, Marly hated that. But she loved her mom-in-law, because she’d given her Marcus…how could Marly not love her? She’d forgive the woman anything! “Your mom’s not that bad, M.”

“Yours isn’t either, so forgive me when I make fun of her.”

Yes. Maybe moms weren’t perfect…but Marly would sure like to be one. “Do you think that’s what our kids will say about us, what weird parents we are?”

“I’d bet on it.”

“Marcus!” She smacked his arm, sure that it hurt her hand more than it actually did him, what with all that muscle there.

“Honey, there’s no telling with kids these days. How should I know how they’ll think? And if they think we’re weird, then let’s just hope they’ll love us anyway.”

She nodded, splaying her hands over her stomach, so flat now. She’d never thought she’d long to see it swollen like a watermelon. But she did, and she knew he did, too.

Already they ogled newspaper ads about baby cribs, and stopped in the sidewalk whenever a stroller with a chubby little infant passed by them. “I want a baby so much.”

His gaze pierced right through her, dark and never-ending and so intense she felt it down to her stomach. “Let’s make one.”

They’d been trying for the past two months, but somehow, the determined gleam in his eye reached into her, and with it, hope blossomed inside her. That look told her, quite plainly, that this time, this time they’d succeed. In making their baby.

And next year the stork would be heading for the Forrester’s.

When they finally got home, Marcus was desperate to fuck her. He could smell her.

The clean, soapy scent of her skin, the sweet smell of her shampoo, and underneath it all, the scent of woman. Of aroused, sexually-stimulated woman. He could’ve sworn he’d never, in his life, been so horny. His cock felt weighted down, so heavy, so full, so damned hard it could’ve torn out of his pants.

But it seemed as though every little thing was conspiring against him, keeping him from making love to his wife. He’d barely crossed the threshold, hung the keys beside the door, and turned to look at her like one would look at dinner when the phone rang. He snatched it up with a displeased grunt.

“Mr. Forrester?”

He groaned at the voice, quickly becoming all-too familiar. “What now?”

“Can you talk?”

“Barely.” His cock pushed against his fly. It felt like a bomb waiting to explode, and his jaw hurt, his teeth overly sensitive.

“The reason for our call, Mr. Forrester, um, er, Marcus, is that we have reason to believe your wife’s state is contagious,” Dr. Vilder went on to say.

“Hmm?” Marly was undressing in the bedroom, and Marcus could see parts of newly revealed flesh through the open door. His cock grew an inch more.

“We’ve got a slight problem. There’s reason to believe your wife’s state might be easily transmitted through the bite. It could be the saliva entering the blood stream, though we’d need to make some tests to be sure. Tell us. How do you feel, Mr.

Forrester?”

“Ready to fuck my wife, that’s how I feel.”

An awkward silence ensued. Then a tentative, “How about you two come into the office this afternoon?”

He watched her as she pulled the door fully open and stood naked, a shoulder braced on the doorframe, and a primal instinct told him to lunge at her. “Maybe next year, doc.”

Marcus hung up and started for her, wanting to pounce, tackle, fuck. All in that order.

“Looks like I’m just as screwed up as you are, honey,” he told her.

Marly shook her head, then brushed back a strand of blonde hair that had fallen on her forehead. “Marcus, I don’t know what you mean.”

“That was Dr. Vilder.” He signaled to the phone. “He thinks your state of sheer and utter horniness may be transmitted through blood and saliva. And now I got it bad.”

Her eyes widened. “Does this mean poor Jake might get it, too?”

Fuck Jake, didn’t she hear a word he said? He was aching, literally aching, to sink himself inside her. “If he does, it might actually help his job, you know,” Marcus said grudgingly. “Ladies will be blown away, I’m sure.”

Marly covered her mouth, but he could still clearly hear her emotional, “Oh my God, poor guy!”

He smiled at that, closing the space between them and catching her shoulders in his hands so he could draw her to him. “Let’s forget about Jake and make some cubs, hmm?”

He was so damned ready to that even the air around him seemed to spark with undercurrents of electricity.

Her whole face softened at his words, her eyes misting. “Oh, yes. I’d like that very much.”

“Come here.” His voice had turned husky, his whole body vibrating with tension.

Her thigh slipped in between his, and he belatedly realized he was still wearing his jeans, his rigid shaft pressing against her hipbone. “Damn,” he muttered.

She smiled up at him while her hands flicked open the button, one of them quickly dipping into his jeans and under his underwear, until it settled on his length.

He weakened.

His head fell back, and he groaned when she carved in a little deeper, her fingers brushing his balls. Marcus felt his prick pulse in her hand, felt the thickening weight of his nuts, the tensing power in his legs. He felt his teeth ache with a sudden urge to bite her, and the corner of one eye twitch unsteadily as her fingers curled around him and began to stroke upward.

A hollow breath tore out of him. “Fuck, that feels good.”

He felt his features distort with the harshness of his need, and he knew how closely she watched him under the fan of her lashes. “I am so jerking you off, Marcus,” she said silkily.

“Oh, yeah?” he hissed through his teeth, clamping a hand between her legs and squeezing her pussy.

She inhaled a sharp breath, sobbing out a barely understandable, “Yeah.”

“I am so making you come in my hand.” He played with her pussy first, not entering her, only swiping his thumb across her moistened entrance, then up to her clit, rolling it under his finger.

“Whoever comes first loses,” she shakily said, her hand working his cock with purpose now.

His own fingers quickened, his thumb merciless on her clit, scraping, brushing, pressing. “What’s exactly at stake here?”

Her words shook, her eyes drifting closed as she spoke. “Honor. Pride. Ego.”

He smiled with gentlemanly charm and stepped back, making way for her to get her pretty ass past the open door and onto the bed. “Let’s take this to the bedroom, shall we?”

“Yes. Let’s.”

“Ladies first.”

“Oooh, then I guess that leaves me out,” she said, rooting herself to the spot beside him.

“Good joke, hon.” He slapped her rump. “Get your butt on the bed. I said we’d make babies, and we’re making babies.”

“You’re going to need to take those off,” she said with a nod toward his jeans.

“I will as soon as you get on that bed.”

In a second, Marly had plopped down on the bed, watching eagerly as he jerked off his shirt and shoved his jeans down to his ankles. He kicked them off, then braced his legs apart and met her hot, smoldering green gaze across the bed.

“I feel so starved for you,” she whispered.

Marcus felt his cock throb under her gaze. “Eat me,” he said, desire turning his voice to a low rasp.

She scooted over to the edge of the bed, sitting with her legs parted wide so he could nudge his hips between her thighs and dip his cock into her open mouth.

“Hmm.” That downy, sultry sound teased his cock as much as the quick swirls of her greedy little tongue.

“Ahh, Marly.” His hands fisted on her hair as she took as much of his cock into her mouth as she could. Marcus began to pump. “You sucked Jake’s just like this, didn’t you?”

A low purring sound was his answer, and as she moved her head along his cock, he felt the tips of her incisors, scraping against the sides of his cock. He tugged her head back so she’d let go of him; it was all he could do to keep from coming.

“Now it’s my turn,” he said, his voice a little rough.

She was still seated when he dropped to his knees before her and spread her legs wide, his eyes feasting on the swollen pink petals of her sex. “I love your pussy, Marly.”

He fingered it, up and down, side to side, and watched her quiver, heard her lusty little noises.

“Squeeze your breasts, hon. I want you to touch yourself while I touch you.”

“I’m going to come,” she weakly protested.

“That’s the whole point, sugar.”

“But the bet…oh, God!” she cried, arching like a bow when he dipped his two longest fingers into her.

“You’re so tight. I love watching what I do to you.”

Marly’s eyes had darkened to the color of emeralds, her lids nearly closed as she watched his fingers stab into her repeatedly. Her hands slowly, hesitantly, reached up to cup her breasts. Marcus’s cock jerked in the air with gratitude.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed as he plunged his fingers inside her and moved his free hand up to her clit, so his thumb could stroke over it. “I wish I had ten hands to touch you with. I could touch you everywhere at once.”

Marly arched, falling back on the bed as her hands kneaded her breasts, tugged on her nipples. “I…”

“Don’t come yet, Marly. Not until I taste you…not unless you want to lose.” And then his fingers pulled out so he could lower his head and flick his tongue across her entrance. Her cries reached all the way down to his gut, the warm, sweet taste of her flowing into his mouth as he latched his lips around her pussy and plunged his tongue inside.

He could eat her forever and want for nothing more.

Her hips rocked against his face, pumping fast, her breathing coming in as fast as his was. His tongue shifted, slid upward to stroke her nub in circles, and when her first orgasm came, he dipped his mouth so he could eat her up with a growl.

He was shaking when he rose, scooped his hands around her armpits so he could haul her up to the center of the bed, and followed her down.

“Still want to make babies?”

She brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, her eyes dazed and filled with wonder. “I lost.”

“I intended for you to lose.”

Her expression was pure female indignation. “I’ll get back at you, Marcus!”

He cradled her face in his hands, his words tender. “I asked if you wanted to make a baby with me.”

Her expression turned wistful, her eyes shimmering dreamily. “Yes, very much so.”

“Come here, you.” He slid his hands down her sides, then grabbed her thighs and guided her legs around him. Her ankles crossed behind him, his hips nestled snugly between hers. He braced himself on his arms, stared down at her as he positioned himself.

“Marly Forrester.”

She touched a finger to his lips, smiling a sultry smile. “Marcus Forrester.”

He thrust up deep, watching her eyes widen, a shuddering breath tear out of her.

“Shit, you’re tight.” As tight as clay. Hot as fire.

He rocked his hips, circling his cock inside her, then angling it so the length of him would stroke her clit every time he pulled out and entered her again.

“Oooh, yes, like that,” she urged, running her hands up the muscles of his chest, pausing over the newly grown, soft fur that had grown there. He hadn’t even noticed it until her eyes paused there, slightly widening at the discovery.

Marcus saw red, his jaw aching from a need to clamp onto her. “I feel like biting you.”

She shuddered wantonly. “So bite me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

She bucked up, gritting, “
Bite me
.”