Monster: Made & Broken (A Mafia Bad Boy Romance) by Nora Ash Page B

separated his lips and teased at the seam of mine with his tongue for access, my body already giving in to the delicious warmth of him. Perhaps it was the wine that made it so easy to wrap my arms around his neck and let him lay me down on the couch without a second thought to how swiftly the mood between us had changed. Where seconds ago my chest was tight with empathy for the big man currently pinning me to the sofa, it now flowed with warmth and just a trickle of excitement as his skilled lips danced over mine.
    When he pushed my t-shirt up and bared my breasts, he finally broke our kiss to dip his head lower. I gasped and arched when Marcus closed his mouth around my right nipple, enveloping it in his heat. He swiped his tongue over the little bud until it pebbled under his ministrations and then sucked it deeply.
    I whimpered, my fingers finding their way to his silky black hair of their own accord. I clenched my hands in his soft strands for every deep pull of his lips against my nipple until the stimulation became too much. But just as I was about to voice a complaint, Marcus popped his mouth off my now achingly erect nipple and gave me a deep kiss before he switched to the other.
    I writhed underneath him, excitement mixing with rapidly mounting desire—a desire that crescendoed when he pushed a hand down my sweatpants and my panties, his fingers finding my clit without pausing to search.
    “ Oh,” I gasped, jerking hard underneath him at first contact, and again when he rubbed it none too gently. But it felt good, right—he wasn’t terrified of breaking me like he had been the first night we’d spent together, but he was obviously still in control. My body melted, swept away by the maddening bursts of pleasure he elicited from my heated flesh. I grasped at his shirt, desperate to feel more of his skin, and he pulled off my breast so I could get at his buttons, though he never paused his ministrations between my thighs.
    The fire in his eyes as he looked down at me made my pussy clench and wet heat flood from my aching core. I wanted him—I wanted all that barely leashed ferocity, all the burning lust and every inch of his powerful body. God , I wanted his body! I’d succeeded in getting his shirt open and was greeted by the sight of stack after stack of strong, lean muscle in his abdomen and a chest and arms so strong I wanted to lose myself in his embrace forever.
    “ You’re beautiful,” I whispered—and then gasped hoarsely when he, without warning, pulled my pants off my legs before he returned to my sex, this time pushing two fingers into me, his thumb taking over on my aching bundle of nerves. My pussy opened greedily for him, craving him ever deeper, and I arched my hips, lost to the feel of penetration. I wouldn’t have been ready for it so swiftly with any other man, but Marcus made my body sing.
    “ No,” he said, his voice so rough with lust it was like gravel. The sound of it went straight to my core and I felt myself pulse around his invading fingers. “ You are beautiful, Evelyn. Every inch of you. I want our baby to look just like you.”
    I blinked at the distinctly unexpected strand of dirty talk, but was quickly distracted when he forced a third finger into me, making my walls spasm from the hard stretch. I moaned, half in protest, but just then he curved his fingertips into the spongy place on my frontal wall and everything went white with pleasure.
    “ I want to take you until your body gives in, until your womb is bathed in my seed. And then I want to see you grow round with my child. See your pregnant body writhe with pleasure when I make love to you over and over,” he growled, never letting up on the firm pressure against my pulsing G-spot.
    I cried out, too wrapped up in the intensity of his touch to object to what he was saying. And, as he fucked me with his fingers and told me how he couldn’t wait to push into me and give me the baby he wanted so bad, I lost the will to