Chapter 3 : Evelyn''s Breasts

The gasp that tore from Evelyn''s throat was raw, unfiltered. Marcus''s fingers were inside her, stretching her, filling her in a way that was both shocking and unbearably good. The vibrator had been a gentle hum compared to this-his was invasion, possession, a claiming that left no room for pretense.

"See?" Marcus murmured, his breath hot against her ear. His fingers curled, pressing against a spot deep inside her that made stars explode behind her eyelids. "I can help."

Evelyn''s body arched off the bed, her hands fisting in the sheets. She wanted to push him away, to scream, to do anything but lie there and let him touch her like this. But her body had other ideas. It was opening for him, welcoming him, clenching around his fingers with a greed that shamed her.

"Alexander didn''t loosen you up at all," Marcus observed, his voice rough with something that sounded like satisfaction. "His cock must be pathetic."

The crude words should have repelled her. Instead, they sent a fresh jolt of heat straight to her core. Her hips rocked against his hand, seeking more friction, more pressure.

"Marcus..." His name came out as a plea, though she wasn''t sure what she was pleading for. Stop? Don''t stop?

"Shh." He withdrew his fingers slowly, then pushed them back in, setting a rhythm that was deliberate, relentless. The wet sound of her body accepting him filled the silent room. "Your pussy keeps sucking me in. So hungry."

Tears pricked at the corners of Evelyn''s eyes-ears of shame, of frustration, of a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. She hated him. Hated his perfect face, the way she couldn''t help but look at him. Hated his arrogance, the way he acted like he owned her. But most of all, she hated herself.

Because even now, with his fingers buried inside her, she couldn''t muster the strength to fight him off. Her limbs felt heavy, boneless, as if all the resistance had been drained from her.

He must have sensed her struggle. He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her face. Her lips were parted, her breathing ragged, tears clinging to her lashes like morning dew on flower petals.

Beautiful. And he wanted to ruin her.

With a groan that seemed torn from deep in his chest, Marcus kissed her.

It wasn''t gentle. It wasn''t asking permission. His mouth crashed down on hers, his tongue forcing its way past her lips, claiming her mouth as thoroughly as his fingers were claiming her body. The taste of him攎int and something darker, more primal攆looded her senses.

Evelyn went rigid for a moment, shocked by the intimacy of it. Then, to her horror, she felt herself responding. Her lips softened under his. Her tongue, tentative at first, began to move against his. A soft, needy sound escaped her throat, vibrating through their joined mouths.

Marcus made a low noise of approval. He shifted, his weight settling more fully over her, pinning her to the mattress. His free hand came up to cup her breast, his palm warm and rough against her sensitive skin.

This was Evelyn''s breast. Her body. And he was touching it like he had every right.

He squeezed, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, and Evelyn moaned into his mouth. Her nipple hardened instantly, pebbling against his palm. When his thumb brushed over the tip, she shuddered, her back arching.

"Ah..." The sound was sweet, helpless.

Marcus broke the kiss, his breathing harsh. He looked down at where his hand covered her breast, his eyes dark with hunger. "So responsive," he murmured, almost to himself.

He began to knead her breast in earnest, his touch firm, possessive. His thumb circled her nipple, then flicked over it, making her gasp. Each touch sent electric currents straight to her core, where his fingers were still moving inside her.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Evelyn couldn''t answer. She could only nod, her eyes squeezed shut, her body trembling with the effort of holding back.

"Tell me," he commanded, pinching her nipple lightly.

"Y-yes," she whispered, the admission torn from her.

"Good." He bent his head, his lips finding hers again. This time the kiss was different-till demanding, but with a hint of something else. Something that felt like... triumph.

Evelyn''s hands, which had been clutching the sheets, came up to tangle in his hair. She wasn''t pushing him away. She was holding him closer. Her hips moved in time with the thrust of his fingers, meeting each stroke with a desperation that terrified her.

She was losing herself. Drowning in him.

When he finally broke the kiss, they were both breathing heavily. A thin strand of saliva connected their lips for a moment before breaking.

"I should tell Mom," Evelyn managed, turning her face away. Her shoulders were shaking, though whether from pleasure or shame, she couldn''t tell.

Marcus went still. Then he laughed, a low, humorless sound. "Tell her what?"

He shifted his hips, pressing himself against her. Even through the fabric of his sweatpants, she could feel him-ard, thick, insistent. He rocked against her, the bulge of his erection rubbing against her wet entrance.

"That you were in the driveway with Alexander, letting him finger you?" Marcus''s voice was a harsh whisper against her ear. "That if I hadn''t shown up, his cock would be inside you right now?"

He thrust against her again, the pressure delicious and maddening. "Go ahead. Tell her."

Evelyn''s breath hitched. "I''m an adult! It''s my choice!"

"Your choice?" He laughed again, the sound bitter. "What about the time you walked in on me in the shower? Was that your choice too?"

Heat flooded Evelyn''s cheeks. "Mom told me to get you for dinner! How was I supposed to know you''d be showering in the middle of the day?"

"My body." Marcus''s voice dropped, becoming intimate, dangerous. "How did it look?"

He pressed against her again, and this time she could feel every ridge, every vein through the thin fabric. It was huge. Terrifying. And she wanted it.

Her mind flashed back to that afternoon. Steam curling off tiled walls. Water sluicing over taut muscles. The defined lines of his abdomen. The trail of dark hair leading down to...

And what rested there, even in repose, had been impressive. Now, fully aroused and pressed against her, it felt monstrous.

"...It was okay," she mumbled, then immediately wanted to bite her tongue.

Marcus''s smile was slow, predatory. "So you did look."

"I didn''t?

"You''re a terrible liar, Evelyn." He nuzzled her ear, his breath warm. "You looked. And you liked what you saw."

She had. God help her, she had.

His fingers were still moving inside her, his thumb now circling her clit with practiced precision. Evelyn was close-o close she could feel the tension coiling tight in her belly, ready to snap.

"Tell me you want it," Marcus whispered, his lips brushing her earlobe. "Tell me you want my cock."

Evelyn shook her head, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. She couldn''t. She wouldn''t.

But her body was telling a different story. It was clenching around his fingers, begging for more. Her hips were rocking, seeking the friction of his erection through the fabric. And when he pressed the head of his cock against her entrance, just for a moment, she actually whimpered.

It was too much. Not enough.

Marcus seemed to understand. He withdrew his fingers slowly, making her gasp at the sudden emptiness. Then he rolled off her, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

For a long moment, he just sat there, his back to her, his shoulders tense. When he finally spoke, his voice was strained. "Get dressed."

Evelyn lay there, stunned. Her body was still humming, still aching. "What?"

"Get. Dressed." He stood up, not looking at her. "Before I do something we''ll both regret."

He walked to the door, his movements stiff. When he reached for the handle, his hand was shaking.

Just before he left, he glanced back at her. Her naked body was still sprawled across the bed, glistening with sweat and her own arousal. His eyes darkened, and for a second, she thought he might change his mind.

But he didn''t. He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, closing it softly behind him.

Evelyn lay there for what felt like hours, staring at the ceiling. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release. Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion, shame, and a terrifying, undeniable excitement.

She had almost let him. She had wanted him to.

And the worst part?

She knew this wasn''t over.