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eBook Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance/Romance
eBook Description: I take thee, in sickness and in health, 'till death do us part.... It was only last year that Marcus and Marly Forrester spoke their wedding vows. Now a year into their marriage, there's trouble in paradise. More trouble than Marcus would like. Apparently his wife is in heat. Like a lion, a tiger, a beast. She's pained, she's suffering, and Marcus can do little about it except--mate. With her. As often as she wants it, as hard as she wants it. Doctor's orders, in fact. But Marcus is no porn-star, no super hero. Hell, he's just a man, determined to keep his woman happy. And he'll do anything for Marly. Including hiring on the assistance of a third party....

eBook Publisher: Atlantic Bridge/Liquid Silver Books, Published: 2008
Fictionwise Release Date: April 2008

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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [96 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [107 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [68 KB] , Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [344 KB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [75 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [115 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [135 KB] , hiebook (KML) [205 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [128 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [62 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [78 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [123 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [106 KB]
Words: 22816
Reading time: 65-91 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: ISBN 9781595784209

Chapter One

Marcus Forrester flipped over the magazine for the hundredth time in Dr. Ben Vilder's small, sunny waiting room. To think of someone poking and prodding at his wife in the examination room a few doors away had his gut twisting inside him, and his teeth clenching so tight they'd be soon turning to powder. The monthly test results should be in by now.

So then why was this taking so long?

He'd been waiting for over an hour, and quickly approached the point where he would pull his hair out, one by one.

"Damn."

He slapped the magazine down on the seat beside him and winced when his ribs protested.

He felt like someone had kicked the shit out of him, then scraped a garden rake down his back.

Every drying scab itched under his shirt, and his cock felt as if he'd laid it down on the road and had a truck run over it.

As for the twitching in his nuts, that didn't feel too good either.

Eyeing the receptionist behind the glass, he cleared his throat loudly.

She glanced up, gave him an apologetic smile, and went back to filing her nails. Marcus sighed, then glared at the fake plant across the room as if this were all its fault.

"Mr. Forrester?"

A young nurse appeared down the hallway.

"Dr. Vilder would like to see you in his office."

On his feet already, Marcus almost trampled the slow-walking nurse as he followed her to the doctor's office.

It had seemed appropriate, since the incident on their honeymoon, that Marcus' family doctor evaluate Marcus' wife, and yet strangest thing of all was that the man who'd given Marcus his shots seemed hell-bent in treating him so formally.

"Mr. Forrester."

There he went again, as though he hadn't seen Marcus's buttocks a million times.

He looked very somber as he greeted him, but then the man always wore the same bored look on his face. "Please sit down."

Marcus dropped on the seat across the doc's cherry wood desk and clasped his hands across his lap. If the white-haired, balding doctor only knew that, despite the outward calm he projected, he was shaking in his bones.

To think of anything--anything--happening to Marly...

"How is she?" Marcus asked when Dr. Vilder only stared at him with the calm, calculated expression he wore all the time.

The expression of someone who must feel no emotion at all.

Of someone whose wife hadn't just been peeked and poked at.

"Your wife is fine, Marcus," he said after what felt like an eternity. "I wanted to talk to you before she joined us."

Shit. He'd called him Marcus. That couldn't be good. "And that's because?"

"Because she presents a very unusual case."

Aha!

"And what case would that be, doctor?"

Marcus shifted on the seat, cringing when his sensitized cock scraped against his underwear. Damned if that didn't hurt.

"Tell me more about her," the doctor said, linking his large, wrinkled hands over the desk. "Her habits. Her moods."

Wasn't the doctor supposed to be telling him something--like what the hell was happening to her?

Marcus shot the doctor a look, a dead serious look. A look that told the man he didn't want to mess with a man wearing this particular look.

With grave seriousness and a face he would wear in a funeral, Marcus said, "She's the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Ah, yes." The doctor didn't even smile. "How long have you been married now?"

"A year. But we've been together since we were kids, remember?"

All Marcus got was a slight nod on the doctor's part, but Marcus doubted that he remembered anything that wasn't in his medical files--much less that he'd been to their wedding. "Your wife's worried, Mr. Forrester. She tells me she's been a little aggressive these past few days. She even said last night she harmed you."

"It's nothing," Marcus said.

"Well, may I see this nothing?"

Marcus hesitated, then sighed. Rising, he pulled his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans and up to his shoulders. Wordlessly, the balding doctor and his insipid white coat drew up behind him. The drying scabs seemed to itch even more under the doctor's scrutiny. "Hmm ... very interesting."

Yeah.

"And she did this with..."

"Her nails." That little she-devil.

"Anything else I should know about? She mentioned some biting near the groin area."

Marcus didn't even want to remember, or else get a very uncomfortable hard-on and let the doctor think he was gay.

Like he was aroused by his scrutiny or something.

But man!

Marly had gone crazy last night, and though Marcus hadn't gotten any sleep, he was a deeply happy, satisfied man, scars and all.

"The bite, Mr. Forrester?"

Sighing, Marcus turned and let the shirt fall over his back before he unfastened his jeans, dropped them to the floor, and spread his legs, signaling down at the teeth marks on his inner thigh.

Dr. Vilder bent to take a look, and he got so close Marcus feared a nurse would burst in and think he was getting fellatio.

He shifted on his feet, staring at the landscape painting behind the doctor's desk, suddenly riveted. He'd never stared so long at a plain ole stretch of grass. And then there was something flying in the sky, which he wasn't sure if it was a bird or an airplane. Oh, and look, more grass.

"It's just as I suspected," Dr. Vilder said as he straightened and walked around his desk to his seat.

"Just tell me she's all right," Marcus muttered as he pulled up and fastened before dropping back down on the chair.

"She's fine."

"We thought maybe..." Marcus gazed steadily at the doctor, not hiding the hopeful note in his voice. "That she's pregnant."

"She's not pregnant, Mr. Forrester. She's in oestrus."

"Oe--what?"

"Your wife is in heat."

"Come again?"

"She's in heat."

In heat.

"Her tests show an interesting hormone and an alteration to her DNA pattern. Quite frankly, I'm amazed at the results."

While the doctor did, in fact, look amazed, Marcus could only stare at him. He shook his head to clear it. "I'm afraid you've lost me."

"She's having a heat period that resembles that of a felid." At Marcus's continuing blank look, Dr. Vilder added, "A feline."

Brows joining into a scowl, Marcus gazed around the ample, wood-paneled office, wondering if all those diplomas hanging on the wall were even real. Were they talking about cats here? "And what exactly does this mean?" he asked, his attention once again on the doctor.

"Truthfully, I'm not sure."

The doctor leaned back in his chair, hands crossed over his lap as he eyed him steadily. "For sure, such a hormone present in her blood means she wants to copulate. The mating habits of felines are varied, but the species she most resembles, the panthera leo, is known to have a high copulation activity. When in heat, females copulate every fifteen minutes, sometimes even going without sleep for several days."

Marcus had no words to reply with. He could swear his tongue had glued itself to the roof of his mouth.

At his silence, the doctor seemed to feel a need to make himself clearer. "She needs to mate ... frequently." That last word was so emphasized, Marcus winced. There was nothing in this world he enjoyed more than making love with his wife. But after last night's session, in which they'd literally fucked every fifteen minutes, Marcus doubted there was a single drop of sperm left in his whole body.

"And how exactly am I supposed to keep up with that, doctor?"

Old doc shrugged. "You can't."

What kind of lame, shit-faced answer was that?

Marcus thrust his hands in the air. "So she's to continue suffering for five days? She can't even sleep; she's in pain!" He shook his head vehemently. "There must be something we could do, an injection, some pills?"

"The only solution for her current dilemma is for her to mate."

Marcus gave himself the pleasure of glaring at the man. "Doctor, seriously," he said, "I'm only one man."

"Precisely. Within the species of the panthera leo, no lion alone can satisfy a female in heat. They take turns, sometimes three or four of them."

"Are you suggesting I ... well that's preposterous!"

"I'm not suggesting anything, Mr. Forrester. I'm stating the facts."

"But this is insane!"

"That's a whole other field, Mr. Forrester, unfortunately not my specialty." Dr. Vilder was the only one who smiled at his joke, and when he was through smiling, he said, "I admit, Mr. Forester, that when you mentioned her phenomenal sex drive on your honeymoon, I never expected to encounter something like this."

"Marly..." Marcus shrugged. "Marly insisted something was wrong with her. I saw no reason to take monthly tests, but you know how ... stubborn women get."

"Well now, it is quite obvious there is something odd, but I have to admit I've never had any experience with one of these cases myself. I'll have to meet with my colleagues and gather more information for you. Now I have to ask, does the time when this happened during your honeymoon strike you as similar?"

"This time is actually much worse. She gets very ... She whimpers if we don't immediately ... well, you know."

The doctor looked like he was suppressing a smile. "Was there any biting last time, scratching?"

"Nope. No biting. Lots of scratching, lots of clawing, lots and lots of sex."

Marcus grinned. Because it had been the most fantastic honeymoon ever. Eating. Sleeping. Fucking. All day. Every day.

Marcus had never thought Marly's honeymoon sex drive was anything to be concerned about, except she kept telling him how it hurt so much when she wanted to and for some reason couldn't--whether it be Marcus was sleeping, they were at the airport, a restaurant, hell, any number of reasons.

"I see," the doctor said. "Well, I'd like to assume the heat periods will increase in frequency until she bears a child. In fact, I believe it's the case with most of the felidae."

"I assure you," Marcus said in a tone showing his disappointment, "we've been trying."

"Tell me, does she ever change?"

"Change?" Marcus repeated. He wouldn't change a hair in Marly's whole body. He loved her! Every bitty inch and tiny freckle on her nose.

"I mean physical changes," the doctor explained. "Shifting, turning into a cat, getting fangs or even a tail?"

Marcus was completely fossilized in his seat. Unmoving. Not even breathing. "You're kidding."

"Oh, I'm very serious, Mr. Forrester. It seems unlikely she could withstand the whole five day heat period without her body adapting to it for the time being."

"Well, will I live?"

Marcus jumped to his feet at the sound of her voice. "Marly."

Gorgeous, sweet Marly.

With her neat blonde hair cropped to her shoulders--a cut which Marcus hadn't cared for at first, but now found unbearably cute--and her slim, agile body in those tight blue jeans which just happened to be Marcus' favorites.

His kind, smart, sexy wife--with all those raging cat-hormones inside her.

Poor baby!

He rushed to her side. "Here, baby, let me help you."

"I'm not an invalid, honey, I can walk." But she held onto him anyway, leaning to his side as he guided her toward the chair next to his with painstaking slowness.

"It'll be all right, baby," he cooed. "The doctor here was just explaining..."

She kissed his lips before sitting down. "If it's got the word 'nympho' in there, or even 'maniac', I'd rather not know."

"Oh, no, Mrs. Forrester, nothing like that."

Marcus took his own chair. "Sweetheart, it seems that you're ... well, honey, that explains why you've lately been so ... what I mean to say is..."

"You're in heat, Mrs. Forrester," the doctor artfully interjected. "You have an unusual craving for sex that rivals that of a feline."

Marcus smiled at her with false brightness and reached out to pat her hand. "There, you see? It'll be all right."

Marly's vivid green eyes went enormous, and at her horrified expression, the doctor felt compelled to add, "I suspect you will be back to normal in a few days. Four or five at most, Mrs. Forrester, no need to look so worried."

"Five days?" She sounded crestfallen. "But you have no idea how much this ... hurts ... how much I..." Her deep green eyes landed on Marcus, and the turmoil there just tore at him. "This is horrible."

"I need more tests to determine the cause. I wonder if it might be due to genetics? Tell me about your parents, Mrs. Forrester, anything unusual?"

When Marly didn't so much as breathe, Marcus thoughtfully said, "Well, her mom's real weird."

"Marcus!"

He looked back at her wide-eyed. "Well, it's true!"

"I'm not even getting into details about your mother."

"Thank you."

With a slightly amused tug on his lips, the doctor leveled his sharp gaze on Marly. "In what sense is your mother unusual, Mrs. Forrester?"

Marly shrugged as if it made little difference. "She's developing an inter-species breeding program."

"And weird hair."

Dr. Vilder's bushy white brows shot up. "Ahhhh."

But since he still looked confused, Marcus specified, "She experiments with pussies, doctor."

"Marcus means cats, doctor," Marly countered, sending a withering look his way before turning to Dr. Vilder. "Like a lion and a tigress making a liger, and a tiger and a lioness making a tigon. That sort of thing. My mother's a zoologist, and she has a soft spot for breeding rare African species."

"I see." The doctor busily rubbed his chin, as if that alone gave him access to all the answers in the universe.

"What has that to do with my wife?" Marcus asked worriedly, images of his mother-in-law and her godawful hair, and her even more awful experiments, pricking all the hairs in his body.

"Marcus..." Marly choked on the word, her face coloring salmon. "Marcus take me home."

He softened his voice. "Let's just wait until the doctor explains..."

"Marcus, now." She convulsed a little over the chair, pressing her legs together, her knuckles white on the armrests. "Oh, God."

Marcus jolted to his feet when her eyes rolled back and she shuddered.

The last thing he needed was for her to strip in front of the doctor and hump the desk. "She gets this way every half hour or so," he told the doctor, his tone apologetic.

The doctor's alarm was evident in the slight widening of his eyes as he rose. "Marcus, I truly suggest you get some help."

"You mean like nine-one-one?"

"I meant real help, Mr. Forrester. The kind you'll need."

Marcus lifted her to her feet, a steady arm around her waist keeping her pinned to his side. "Come on, baby, let's go."

Marly's chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths, her body trembling against his own as he quickly dumped the money owed on the desk outside.

After crossing the parking lot and settling her in the front passenger seat of their SUV, Marcus slid behind the wheel, shut the door, and said, "I say we get a second opinion."

Her shaky sigh filled the interior of the car. "I just want to go home."

"I think this guy's into that weird fiction thing. Cat hormones! Where the hell would he get that anyway?"

She was avoiding his gaze, as though she was ashamed of something. Softly she bit her lip, then said, "So that's what's wrong with me."

"Marly, nothing is wrong with you." He cupped her smooth cheek and forced her to look at him. "Except that you're a little nutty, but we already knew that about you, didn't we?"

"Marcus." The desperation in her voice mirrored the one gnawing at his gut.

"Hey," he said, "Even if he's right. You're a healthy, horny female; what's wrong with that?"

"That my poor husband looks like a punching bag, that's what's wrong!"

"I already told you I loved that little biting session, honey. You've got real good teeth."

She smiled, a smile that made her eyes look a brilliant green, then she whimpered, assailed again by her unnamed malady. Or as Dr. Vilder quite succinctly put it, her need to mate. "Just drive, M," she said quietly.

"Great idea." He twisted the key, the car roaring to life.

"Wait! Kiss me first."

She curled a hand around his nape and pulled him in for a hot kiss. She whimpered when their lips touched, and he growled when she parted her mouth under his, allowing his tongue inside. Her mouth was wet, hot, her tongue swirling eagerly around his own. She was so sweet, tastier than his favorite cream pudding. Marcus could've kissed her for a full additional hour if he hadn't noticed her already touching herself, rubbing herself over her jeans.

"Easy, baby." Shaken, he drew away and focused on pulling out of the parking lot. As soon as they hit the streets, he sped onto the highway. Forget the speed limit. He needed to get home now.

He stole a quick look at her, trying not to think how juicy and delectable her swollen lips looked. "Don't worry, sweetheart. First thing I'm gonna do when we get home is fuck you."

Her eyes fluttered closed. "Umm..." She sank back farther into the seat, parting her legs so she could rock her hips and scrape her fingers over herself. "Oh, God, I need you."

He expelled a trembling breath and nearly broke the steering wheel with his grip. "Baby, I need you, too."

"I can't wait..."

His cock felt like a club inside his pants. It hurt from last night and it hurt from wanting her. His beautiful wife was hazy-eyed and panting, and only a few feet away. Her lips gleamed with dampness and she smelled like she did when she was soaking wet. And all Marcus could do was drive. Dammit. "Baby," he said raggedly. "I can't wait."

"But Marcus, I can't stand this." A painful grimace contorted her face, and Marcus felt his own features go tense.

"Honey, I feel for you. Believe me. I know how you're hurting." He had an urge to crawl back to the doctor and see what was wrong with him--he hurt so bad, too.

Marly cupped her pussy over the fabric of her jeans, grinding the heel of her palm against her mound as she rocked her hips up. Marcus wanted to tell her to pull down her jeans and do it, fuck herself over the seat and let him watch, let him come in his pants watching.

Instead, he silently cursed the slow-moving car in front, one hand into the air. "Damn this traffic anyway!" Damn everyone keeping him from reaching home and fucking his poor and afflicted, very sexy Marly.

Her hand paused at the juncture of her thighs as she went completely still. "So I'm in heat like some sort of ... bitch?"

He chuckled, still not even believing it. "Yeah."

Her face held no mirth as she regarded him. "It's not funny."

"It makes me nervous, all right?" He plowed his fingers through his hair and cursed under his breath, shaking his head ruefully.

Thoughtful now, his wife turned to stare out the window. He could see the worried lines in her brow by the angle of her profile, the trembling lower lip she tried to hold still with her top teeth. "I'll take care not to scratch you, M, I promise. It just gets so..." She trailed off, hunching forward and curling her arms around her waist with a pained groan. "Oh, God. I want you, baby."

Marcus felt weak, his voice shaking as much as his knees. "I can hardly wait."

With imploring green eyes, she said, "Baby, stop somewhere. Anywhere, please."

"Just a few more minutes, sweetheart, hang in there." He slammed the pedal further down, certain the highway had grown longer just now. It had never taken him so long to get home before.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her rub herself, her hand going faster and faster and faster. "Oh, fuck, Marcus."

Finding every breath emptier and heavier than the last, his eyes strayed from the road to look at her, on the seat, flushed and eager and horny. "Honey, do you want me to crash?" he demanded.

Marly bucked in the seat with a moan. "No. What I want is for you to stop this fucking car, get your hands on me and your dick inside me now!"

Marcus's jaw tightened. "I swear nobody wants to fuck now more than me."

And no sore cock would keep him from it.

It felt like Mars had to be closer to Earth than their home from Dr. Vilder's office.

By the time Marly spotted their quaint, red-brick, one-story, two-bedroom love nest, she felt weak with need. Her body was quaking, her sex pulsing hard, a famished hunger gnawing inside her belly. Not even as a teenager in her first burst of hormones had she felt so lusty, so desperate, so fiercely horny and ready to fuck. She barely noticed when Marcus turned off the engine and came around the front of the car.

In her next breath, he scooped her up in his powerful arms. "Come here, baby."

"Oh, Marcus, please." Her hands flew to his shoulders, and then of their own will slid to work the buttons on his shirt. He carried her inside, kicking the door shut behind them.

Pushing his shirt aside, her eager hands slipped through the parted material and over his glorious chest, sprinkled with silky dark hairs. She rubbed those sinewy muscles, her sex muscles contracting with want as he carried her down the darkened hall.

He paused at the threshold to their bedroom and gazed down at her with hot, smoldering eyes. His jaw was tight with desire, eyelids heavy as he spoke down into her face. "Now, let me make love to you."

Marly felt herself melt with gratitude. "Yes."

"I want you slow."

She gripped his shoulders in panic. "No! I want fast. I want now."

"Shh."

He pressed his lips lightly, briefly to hers as he crossed the length of their bedroom, lowering her to sit on the edge of their bed. Prying her hands from his shoulders, he placed them by her sides, squeezing her wrists in reassurance. Between sooty, dark lashes, his black eyes shone, filled with tenderness, lust. Love. "You're my wife. And I will have you, again and again, slow and fast."

As if to prove this, his hands slipped under her soft cotton shirt. They felt like gliding silk over her belly, and like a burning clamp when, after they unfastened the front clasp of her bra, he clutched her bare breasts and squeezed.

Marly arched up to his hands, making a soft mewing sound.

He groaned, his hold impatient, possessive on her breasts. "You're so damned beautiful, Marly."

His thumbs rubbed back and forth on her firm, rounded nipples. His breathing had changed, deepened, nostrils flaring as he stared at her lips with eyes on fire.

Her hand felt weak as she lifted it to touch him. "Marcus."

She slipped her fingers through his hair as he ducked low and opened his mouth over her t-shirt, covering a protruding nipple. Moisture from his mouth seeped past the fabric and onto the sensitive pearl, sending shivers down her body. Her other nipple brushed against the cotton, and that alone sent her bucking up wantonly.

She clutched the back of his head, her head spinning. Her skin burned as if she were swimming in lava. "Oh, Marcus."

He lifted his head, his hands tugging at her shirt. "Take this off." His voice was gruff with desire.

The knowledge of what he would do to her as soon as the barriers were gone urged her to hurry. Her hands trembled with anticipation as she fumbled with her jeans, yanked her top over her head, and stripped off her bra and panties.

He hadn't been idle while she undressed.

At the foot of the bed, he stood naked now, his clothes in a heap behind him. He looked so handsome, as handsome as ever. Strength. Compassion. Determination. And the ability to smile at life, whatever curve ball she threw at them.

Her husband had it all.

He was the first boy she'd kissed, the only man she'd ever loved, and all Marly had prayed since she'd turned sixteen was that they'd be able to grow old together, and never, ever be apart.

His rich sable-black hair was rumpled, carelessly curling around his ears, as luxurious and tempting as that tanned god-like body. Thickened dark veins that gushed with blood ridged the length of his swollen cock, the tip already moistened with droplets of semen.

She could see her love bites on his shoulder, his inner thigh, and the marks of her nails on his chest. She had been embarrassed yesterday when she'd realized what she'd done to him, but now that she was aching for him to fill her again, she gazed at every little scab like a mark of her ownership, and it excited her all the more.

His long, athletic legs were braced wide apart, his arms motionless at his sides. A muscle flexed in the back of his jaw. "Open up for me, Marly. I want to see you. How pink and swollen you are."

A flood of sensations assailed her at his husky words. Her nipples tingled. Her belly pulled tight. Her sex clenched.

His cock jerked in the air, the muscles in his abs squared rigid. "Show me your pussy, baby."

Marly would show him the world if she could.

Slowly resting her head back on the bed, she parted her thighs, feeling her lips unfold like petals, her swollen entrance gleam wetly for him.

"Put your cock inside me, Marcus." Her voice was a croak, the sound so weak she doubted if he heard, for he didn't move, only watched her with coal-black eyes brimming with intensity and power.

She curved her spine over the bed, a needy whimper urging him forward as her eyes drifted shut. She shook from need. Her stomach burned.

And still, he didn't take her.

"Marcus, please." She couldn't stand this. Couldn't stand her sweaty, prickly skin. The way her pussy clenched around emptiness. The way her breasts hurt.

"Shh." His murmur filled her with want as he clasped one ankle in his hand and lifted her leg. He flattened the arch of her foot against his chest, beneath one shoulder. Then he lowered his face, his warm breath on her skin. "I know what you want, baby." He brushed his lips to the tender skin on the inside of her ankle, then flicked out his tongue to lick her, working a hot, moist path along the inside of her leg.

A shiver shot through her in reverse; starting in her calves, racing up her thighs, her back, to her breasts. As he laved her skin, she could feel the long, expert strokes of his tongue as though they were licking her pussy. He was advancing, his mouth wide open, kissing the tender skin behind her knee. Her cunt felt like exploding. She fisted her hands by her sides. "Marcus, dammit..."

She heard the growl before he set her leg down and moved, settling his weight on top of her. He grabbed her wrists and lifted her arms, pinning them above her head as he shoved his hips between her thighs, his pulsing heat pressing roughly against hers.

"You make me lose my fucking mind."

She trembled at the coarse words, which only ignited her more. Her gaze clashed with his glowing one. "Fuck me. Fuck me now. Please."

"Oh, I intend to, wife. I plan to fuck you good and hard." She felt the bloated head of his cock push into her, then the full length of his column glide between her tissue folds, penetrating so slowly she thought she'd go crazy.

His hands tightened around her wrists as she dropped her head back and curved up to receive him. "Is that what you call hard?" she asked, her voice a tremulous murmur.

He nipped her lower lip, breathing into her mouth. "No." His hot, wet tongue slipped in past her lips, withdrawing as quickly as it had entered. "I call this good."

"Oh, yes, it's good."

He stretched her. Filled her. Pulsed inside her like a living, breathing thing.

Marly lifted her head and captured his lips with hers, rocking her hips with him inside her as she whispered, "Now give me hard."

He pulled out to the head, his big, knowing hands expertly sliding down the inside of her arms, cupping her breasts. Thumb and forefinger pinched her nipples, tugging, pulling.

He knew how to touch her.

Where.

What drove her crazy with want.

What pushed her over the edge.

Eyes closed, she purred wantonly when his hands came back to hers above her head, his fingers lacing through her own. Palm to palm, he thrust inside her again. Rough. Deep. Hands clenching on hers.

Pleasure assailed her with his impaling thrust, and with it, pain stemming from the fierceness of her need. Marcus growled, sucking the peak of one breast into his mouth. She shuddered at the friction of his teeth on her nipples. Her sex twitched hungrily around his cock. Her spine arched slowly, while her limbs felt weighted down with tension.

His thrusts lengthened. His cock slipping in and out of her. Wet. Stiff. Fast.

And she went crazy.

Hissing, bucking up to meet him with her hips, her nails sank into the back of his hands. She surged forward, lips latching to his shoulder, teeth scraping. She ached to bite him, bite him as he kept fucking her, driving her to the brink of orgasm. A hot pressure built in her core. Each deep thrust tightening her more, and more, and more.

Her body tensed, an earth-shattering orgasm gathering force in her center, contracting every muscle in her. With a frustrated noise, she nipped at him, a bright red light flashing in her vision for a blinding second. "Marcus."

I want to bite, eat, claw you, fuck you mad!

"Oh, baby," he said, his voice hoarse.

He looked as out of control as she was. His eyes were shut, his face tight as he concentrated on each long stroke of his cock. "So good," he whispered, pounding, squeezing her hands with his. "You're so fucking good."

Hissing out a breath, she caught his skin between her teeth and bit him hard on the neck. He choked out a sound--part grunt, part growl--and that primal sound undid her. She let her own cries tear out of her as she bucked under him, her pussy rippling around his cock, milking him.

She came in swift, powerful spasms, shudders that seemed to go on forever. Marcus joined her with three more rampant thrusts and one raw, primal cry that seemed to tear out from the pit of him.

When she opened her eyes a thousand heartbeats later, it was to find him lying on his side, propped on one elbow, studying her face with a satisfied smile.

"That was awesome," she breathed. Her smile was as much tired as pleased as she curled up against his chest, an arm going around his waist. "Did I hurt you?"

One big hand splayed over her back and pressed her closer to him. "Compared to yesterday? Nah."

Marly went rigid at the reminder of what she'd done, overwhelmed with loathing for herself. As of two days ago, every ten to fifteen minutes she'd been turning into a sex-fiend, and she was afraid of putting such strain on Marcus.

For all his act, she could see her husband was worried about her. And no matter how capable she knew Marcus to be, both in bed and out of it, it was proving to be humanly impossible to satisfy her. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what's happening to me." Her voice broke, and she pursed her lips before she gave into a full-blown, weep-your-heart-out drama.

"Hey, I loved it." He nuzzled her, brushing his lips over hers. "I said I'd take thee, in sickness and in health, and by God I'm fucking you all week if I die trying."

She stiffened in shock, pulling back to stare at him with eyes as blank as dinner plates. "Baby, I don't want you to die."

She relaxed when she caught sight of his smile--a mischievous, Cheshire-cat smile--and then relaxed even more when he kissed her.

"Just following doctor's orders."