Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Without thinking, I lifted my hand, tracing the muscles on his arm and chest. He was solid, defined. Warm. I studied his face again, seeing the weariness in the lines etched under his eyes.
Did he, I wondered, ever have a chance to simply be Marcus?
“If you don’t stop staring at me, you’re going to find yourself at my mercy again,” he growled, not opening his eyes. “I thought you had to pee.”
“I just wanted you off me, you big oaf,” I replied. “You’re heavy.”
I gasped as he moved with sensuous agility, trapping me under him once again. He hovered over me, his dark eyes glinting. “Big oaf?” he repeated, his voice low but his gaze amused. “I think you like how big and oafish I am.” He nudged my hip, his erection hard. “Especially the big part.”
I held back my groan. He slipped between my legs, showing me just how big he was.
“Are you sore, sweetheart?”
“No,” I lied. I wanted him again.
He kissed the end of my nose, running his along it affectionately. “Liar,” he whispered. “I can read you too well.”
“How?” I gasped, wrapping a leg around his hip, causing him to groan.
“Your nose wrinkles a little. It’s a sure tell on you.” Then he lowered his mouth to mine. “But right now, I don’t care. I’m going to take my time with you, and you’ll be so ready for me, it won’t hurt.” He bit down on my neck, soothing the nip with his tongue. “I’ll make sure it’s nothing but good.”
“Oh God, Marcus,” I whispered, tilting up my hips, grinding myself against him. “I’m ready now.”
He laughed low, his voice a wicked promise. “Just wait, sweetheart. I plan on making you more ready.” He slid down my torso, covering my breast with his mouth, sucking on the hard nipple. “So, so ready.”
I whimpered at the sensations he was causing. I looked forward to seeing what he had planned.
Hours later, I sat at the table, a cup of coffee in front of me, an empty plate pushed to the side. Marcus had made the fluffiest omelet I had ever eaten, and I had polished it off fast. He grinned, sitting across from me, bare-chested and relaxed. He had fallen asleep again after bringing me to two shattering orgasms, first with his fingers, then again while I rode his cock, with him guiding me, his own orgasm intense and sexy to watch.
“You were hungry,” he said with a smirk.
I tossed my hair. “I worked up an appetite.”
“I know.” The smirk remained.
“You slept.” He looked better, not as stressed and tired.
He took a sip of coffee, observing me over the rim. “I did—because you slept as well. Knowing you were safe and in my arms allowed me to relax.”
His sweet admission disarmed me. His next words, however, wiped the smile off my face.
“No more leaving the apartment.”
“You can’t keep me here.”
He lifted an eyebrow in challenge. I refused to allow the fact that it made him look even sexier sway me.
“You can’t.”
“One finger, sweetheart.”
“What?” I asked, confused. Was he talking about sex?
He held up his hand. “One finger and I control everything in this building. I override every lock, every combination, every function. Even the lights and the elevator. If you think you can sneak out again, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“I didn’t sneak out. I thought you’d left me the stuff to go shopping!”
“In what alternate universe did you think I would let you out of the building alone? When there is some lowlife out there looking for you?”
“He thinks I’m dead. Why would he be looking for a dead woman?”
“I won’t risk it. Risk you. Until he is caught, you are staying here.” He stood. “Case closed.”
I followed him to the kitchen, angry. “What if he is never caught, Marcus? You can’t keep me locked up here the rest of my life.”
He spun on his heel, wrapping his hands around my arms. He backed me into the counter, looming over me. “I will catch him. I’ll make sure the world is rid of him and you are safe.”
Despite his anger and his intensity, I noticed how prudently he handled me. His hands weren’t tight, and he was careful not to push me into the hard granite.
I met his gaze, not backing down. “In the task force, I heard some of them talk about a secret organization of vigilantes. Men so deep undercover they were just a rumor. The rumor was they sought and eliminated scum so terrible that governments turned a blind eye to their endeavors. They called them Hidden Justice. Some scoffed and said they were just a myth. Others insisted they were real.” I swallowed. “That you were real.”
For a beat, there was silence, then a grim smile turned up his lips. “I’ve always liked that name. Hidden Justice.”