Thirty-Seven

 

Dara enfolded Marcus in a tender embrace. She leaned against his broad, muscled back and allowed the warmth of her body to soothe his. The couple remained that way until the rise and fall of their breathing became synchronized.

Marcus angled his head around and leaned into Dara's embrace. There was something so right about it all. He did not want to do anything but accept the comfort she offered.

Dara pressed her lips softly against the flesh just behind Marcus' right ear. Her fingertips stroked his smoothly shaven head in tiny circles.

Marcus uttered an inarticulate sound of protest when Dara ended the caress. He was unprepared for her soft response. “Raise your arms,” she commanded.

Dara tugged the black t-shirt up and over his head. Her arms encircled Marcus from the back and she began to lightly run her hands across the muscles of his chiseled chest.

“Dara-”

He got no further before Dara quieted him with a single finger pressed against his lips. “Shhhh…” Almost aimlessly Dara's hands wandered lower and lower upon his torso. With each foray of her fingertips upon his washboard abs, Marcus felt his breath catch.

The feel of Dara's nails teasing the tiny hairs trailing down from his navel was a kind of torture. It was a torture his body welcomed. The very obvious evidence of that fact strained against the stylish white briefs he wore.

“Ahhh…” Marcus strained to breathe normally. With considerable effort, he willed his body still as Dara stroked him through the soft cotton fabric he wore.

“Lie back.” Dara placed a warm hand in the center of Marcus' chest and guided him back upon the bed. She hooked her fingers beneath the waistband of his briefs and peeled them from his taut body.

Locking eyes, Dara carefully straddled Marcus. She made a show of sweeping aside his shirt that she wore. A sensual smile graced Dara's face as she took in Marcus' wide-eyed wonder at the fact that the tiny scrap of silk undergarments she normally wore was nowhere to be found.

Dara impaled herself upon his thickness with agonizing slowness. Marcus released his desperate grip upon the bed sheets and reached up to painfully grasp her hips. Dara immediately ceased all movement.

“Slow down,” she soothed the aroused man. Dara gripped Marcus' wrists and guided him in the rhythm she desired. “We are going to take this nice and slow.”

 

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