Marcus set down his wine glass. "I need you to understand something before we do this."
Aria's entire focus had been on his hands, his mouth, and the way his eyes kept promising things that made her thighs clench together.
"Understand what?"
"I haven't been with anyone since Catherine died. Four years." He said, "I'm not looking for casual. I'm not interested in games or pretending this is just physical."
Aria's heart beat against her ribs. "What are you interested in?"
"You. All of you."
He stood and came around the table, pulling her to her feet. "But I need to know you understand what you're getting into. Because once I have you, I'm not going to want to let you go."
The intensity in his voice should have scared her and made her pull back. Instead, it sent heat flooding through her entire body.
"Maybe I don't want you to let me go."
His hands framed her face. "I'm not easy to be with. I'm possessive. Demanding. When something is mine, I don't share."
"Okay, good to know." She said.
He kissed her hard enough to bruise, his hands sliding down to grip her hips. When he pulled back, his breathing was ragged.
"Last chance to change your mind, Elena."
"Stop giving me chances to change my mind and take me to bed, Marcus."
Something flashed in his eyes. Without warning, he bent and lifted her over his shoulder. Aria gasped, her hands bracing against his back.
"Marcus!"
"You said to take you to bed." His hand slid up the back of her thigh, pushing her dress higher. "I'm taking you to bed."
He carried her through the penthouse to his bedroom. "Take off the dress."
The command in his voice sent a thrill through her. Aria reached for the zipper; the dress slid down her body, leaving her in black lace and heels.
Marcus's breath left him in a rush. "Jesus Christ."
"Your turn."
He pulled his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. Aria's mouth went dry. She'd felt his body against hers, but seeing him was different. Broad shoulders, defined chest.
He moved toward her slowly, predatory. "Do you trust me?"
"No, I don't know you well enough to trust you." She answered.
"Good answer." His hand wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her close. "Trust isn't given freely. It's earned. But I'm going to earn it, Elena. Starting tonight."
He kissed her deeply, walking her backward until her legs hit the bed. They fell together, his body covering hers, and Aria's back arched into him. His weight felt perfect, grounding, exactly what she needed without knowing she'd needed it.
"Tell me if this is too much." His mouth moved down her throat, teeth grazing sensitive skin. "Let me know when you want me to stop."
"I don't want you to stop." She said.
His hands moved over her body; when his fingers found the clasp of her bra, he looked up at her.
"Yes or no?"
"Yes," she said.
The bra disappeared. His mouth closed over her breast, and Aria's hands fisted in the sheets, her back bowing off the bed. He took his time, alternating between gentle and rough, learning exactly what made her gasp and what made her moan.
"I like the way you respond to my touch. His voice was rough against her skin. "Every touch and you light up for me."
His hand slid down her stomach, fingers tracing the edge of her underwear. Aria's hips lifted without conscious thought.
"Please."
"Please, what?" He looked up at her, his eyes dark. "Tell me what you want."
"Touch me."
"I am touching you."
"Marcus." His name came out desperate.
"Speak, Elena. Tell me exactly what you want."
The command in his voice made something inside her unfurl. "I want your hands on me. I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me until I can't remember my own name."
He made a low sound in his throat. "That I can do."
His fingers slipped beneath the lace, finding exactly the right spot. Aria's hands gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.
"That's it." His mouth was at her ear. "Let me hear you. Call my name so I can hear you."
She made sounds, and her body was against his hand, wanting something that was building up higher and higher inside of her. When his fingers slid inside her, she cried out.
"You are so wet, baby." His thumb circled and curled inside of her, and Aria's vision went blank; she was at the edges. "Come for me, Elena. Let me feel it."
The orgasm hit her hard. She arched her back off the bed, and she grabbed a handful of his hair. He worked her through it until she was shaking.
"Tell me if it's too much." He whispered into her ear.
"Not nearly enough." She murmured.
But he withdrew his hand, bringing his fingers to his mouth. She could feel heat flood through her body again by just watching him taste her
"You taste like heaven," he said.
He moved down her body, kissing a path to her thighs. Aria's hands caught his shoulders.
"Marcus, I can't. Not yet."
"You can." He spread her legs wider. "And you will."
His mouth closed over her, and Aria couldn't take it anymore. Her hands were tangling in his hair. He worked her relentlessly, using his tongue and teeth and lips until she couldn't take it anymore.
"Marcus, please." She cried out.
"Please, what, Elena?"
"I need you inside me."
He lifted his head, his mouth glistening. "Not yet. I'm not done with you."
"I need you now."
Something in her voice must have convinced him. He kissed his way back up her body, pausing to grab a condom from the nightstand. Aria watched him roll it on.
He positioned himself between her legs, the head of him pressing against her entrance. "Tell me if you need me to stop."
"Don't you dare stop." She said.
He pushed inside in one smooth thrust, and Aria's world fell apart. He was bigger than she'd expected. He stretched her and filled her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper.
"Fuck." The word came out sharply. "You feel incredible." He said.
He started moving, long, slow strokes that built the tension again. Aria's hands roamed his back, feeling his muscles flex under her palms. When he adjusted the angle, hitting something deep inside her, she gasped.
"Yes. God, yes."
His pace increased, each thrust driving her higher. His hand slid between them, fingers finding her clit, and Aria's body tightened.
"Come with me." His voice was strained. "I want to feel you come around me."
The orgasm built fast and devastating. When it hit, she screamed his name, her body clenching around him. Marcus kept thrusting and followed her over, her fake name on his lips.
They collapsed together, breathing hard. Marcus rolled to the side, pulling her with him. Aria's body felt boneless, satisfied in ways she'd never experienced.
"Are you okay?" His hand caresses her back.
"I think you broke me."
He laughed, "Good. Because we're not done yet."
"Not done?"
"I told you I was going to make you forget your own name." He pulled her on top of him, his hands gripping her hips. "We're just getting started."
"Then stop talking and show me what else you've got." She said, laughing.
He grinned. "As you wish."
He flipped them over and proceeded to make good on every promise he'd made.
By the time the sun started rising over Manhattan, Aria had lost count of how many times he'd made her come. Her body ached in the best possible way, marked by his mouth and hands in places no one else would see.
She lay against his chest, his arm wrapped around her, and tried to remember why this was dangerous and letting him get this close was a mistake.
But his fingers traced lazy patterns on her shoulder, and his heartbeat was steady under her ear, and all she could think was that she wanted to stay exactly where she was.
"What are you thinking?" His voice was rough with exhaustion.
"That I should probably go home."
His arm tightened. "Stay."
"Marcus…"
"Stay." He tilted her face up to his. "Please."
The plea did something to her. This man, who commanded everything, who took what he wanted with confidence, was asking her to stay.
"Okay."
He kissed her softly, sweetly, a different kind of intimacy than the hours before.
"Get some sleep." He pulled her closer. "I'm not done with you yet."
Aria closed her eyes and let herself drift, feeling safer in the arms of a man she was supposed to destroy.
And somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice whispered that this was going to end badly.
But wrapped in his warmth, marked by his touch, that voice was easy to ignore.