Free Fit to Be Tied [Marshals: 2] by Mary Calmes Page B

there. “Hold on, baby.”
    “You feel so good. I need you to move… faster.”
    His body would not get time to adjust to the intrusion, I couldn’t wait even seconds more. I thrust into him hard and hot, burying myself to the balls in one snap of my hips, his clenching muscles unable to keep me from the breach. The inexorable slide, me filling him, all at once, had taken his breath.
    “Fuck,” he growled, muscles cording as he squeezed the frame of the couch, bracing there.
    Slipping out a fraction, I shoved back inside, stuffing him full, my flesh slapping against his, the powerful motion making him call out my name.
    “Miro, just fuckin’ use me.”
    Taking hold of his hips, I began a slow, rhythmic deep pumping, driving to the hilt over and over, loving the feel of the slick heat rippling around me as well as knowing that it was Ian taking me in, wanting me.
    “Miro, I can’t—”
    “You can,” I ground out. “Don’t you dare come.”
    “But I’m so close.”
    “Yes,” I agreed, convulsing all at once, no warning, simply there , climaxing deep inside his body.
    He shivered as he held on through my aftershocks and my withdrawal, the cum dripping from his ass to between his thighs.
    “Miro,” he whispered as I sank to my knees behind him.
    “Turn around and feed it to me.”
    He moved with all the coiled power in him, pivoting as I parted my lips, and shoved his thick, heavy cock into my mouth. It was lucky I had no gag reflex to speak of, or he would have choked me without thought. As it was, I sucked and laved, swallowing around his length as he grabbed hold of my hair and held me in place.
    “Take it all,” he growled roughly as he smothered my face in his groin.
    I made the suction strong and felt him tremble against me. As much as Ian enjoyed me buried in him, watching my lips stretch around his cock never failed to get him off. He liked it too much, exerting power over me while he watched.
    “S’good,” he groaned before exploding down the back of my throat.
    I swallowed fast, not breathing, only drinking, realizing after long moments that I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears as air went from a low priority to the only priority. It was a fight to get loose. He had me and he wanted me there, sucking his dick. But I shoved him back and gulped oxygen, slumping to the floor, my arms spread across the seat cushions of the couch.
    He followed, sliding into my lap, straddling my hips, his saliva and cum-slick cock trailing a wet line down my abdomen as his ass wedged over my groin.
    “I know why you didn’t let me come,” he said raggedly, his voice hoarse as he took my face in his callused hands.
    “Why’s that?” I teased, licking my lips, semen in the corners.
    “’Cause you didn’t want me to make a mess on the fuckin’ couch,” he said with a snort.
    I nodded, grinning at him.
    He released a low growl before tilting my head back to kiss my throat, making me laugh.
    “Fuckin’ Miro,” he griped, kissing me, tasting himself in my mouth, licking me clean, sucking on my tongue until there was no air in my lungs and I was left panting.
    “You sound mad,” I said, chuckling, my hands on his granite thighs. “But I’m being rewarded, so I’m getting conflicting messages.”
    With a firm hand buried in my hair, he held my head in place, pinned to the couch cushion, and continued his sensual onslaught. He kissed me slow and deep, each kiss longer than the last until I lost track of starting and stopping, knowing only Ian and his hot, wet, ravaging mouth on mine. There were things I wanted to say, to tell him, but I couldn’t keep a thought in my head as every inch of skin he touched felt branded by the hard grip of his hands on my body.
    I couldn’t stop him, even for air, but my stomach growled loudly, breaking the spell. I groaned and leaned back, severing the suction of our lips, laughing at the same time.
    “You want me to stop kissing and feed you?” he asked softly,