Sweet Obsession (Ruthless Games Book 1)

Marcus’s grip on my hand is firm. Unrelenting.

My feet patter down the stairs, barely keeping up with his quick steps as he tugs me after him. Ryland and Theo are right behind us, our combined footsteps pounding out a discordant rhythm on the stairs until we reach the small entryway.

Marcus shoves the door open and drags me down the walk, and when he opens the car door for me this time, there’s something a lot less gentlemanly and a lot more caveman-like about it as he practically tosses me inside.

Theo and Ryland slide into the back seat. Marcus stalks around the front before sitting behind the wheel and cranking the ignition. The car roars to life, and he peels away from the curb with a screech.

There’s so much tension thrumming in the car that I can barely breathe, and my mind races over what just happened, trying to fit the pieces together.

Natalie is back. She’s a bigger bitch than ever, and she’s still manipulating people into giving her what she wants, into taking care of her.

And that guy. Carson.

She either can’t see it or doesn’t care, but he didn’t get her those two apartment units because he just wants to “take care of his girl.” He did it to fuck with the three men in the car with me, although I have no idea why or how.

Marcus takes a turn so fast I slide across the seat, and I grab on to the center console to brace myself. He puts a large hand on my leg, squeezing my thigh as he steadies me, and the heat of his palm burns through the denim of my jeans. His grip is hot and possessive, and it sends a jolt of awareness through my entire body, as if all my nerve endings are concentrated directly underneath his palm.

It’s like a switch has been flipped inside him, turning him from gentle to hard.

“What the fuck was that about?” I ask, speaking over the rapid thrum of my pulse.

He doesn’t answer, just takes another turn at high speed and accelerates again.

It occurs to me that I have no idea where we’re going, and a ripple of fear passes through me. Given the sudden shift in all three men’s demeanor, I’m not sure I want to find out.

But fifteen minutes later, we slow down suddenly in front of Marcus’s house.

The garage door slides open, and he revs the engine one more time as he pulls inside. Automatic lights flicker on around us, illuminating the large, clean space. Two other cars are parked in the garage, both as sleek and expensive-looking as this one—but I barely have time to notice them before Marcus is out of the car, crossing around the front to yank open my door.

I unclip the seatbelt a half-second before he hauls me out. Then he kicks the door shut and pushes me up against the side of the car, pinning me with his large body.

His cock grinds against my stomach when he shoves a leg between my thighs, as hard and overwhelming as everything else about him. Then his hands plunge into my hair, angling my head as his lips crash against mine.

Marcus’s kiss is fierce and demanding, and my body responds like a star exploding, adrenaline and arousal pulsing through me.

My hand clutches at his back, fingernails raking over the soft fabric of his sweater.

He’s rocking his hips against mine, and I’m panting into his mouth with every stroke of his tongue, wild desire eclipsing every rational thought I’ve ever had.

When he breaks away from my lips to bite and suck at the curve of my jaw, trailing his hungry mouth down my neck, I tilt my head back, trying to suck a full breath into my overworked lungs.

Then I freeze.

Both Theo and Ryland have gotten out of the car too.

And both of their gazes are trained on us.

Heat burns bright in Theo’s eyes, and Ryland’s nostrils flare as his jaw clenches. My entire body shivers with awareness under their scrutiny, and I can’t seem to look away.

Marcus’s mouth is devouring the skin of my neck and shoulder. He doesn’t seem to notice or care that his two friends are watching him practically fuck me up against his car. His hand slips beneath my shirt, shoving the fabric up as his greedy fingers skate over my skin, grabbing my breast through my bra and squeezing it roughly, pinching my nipple.

A shock of pain and pleasure shoots through me, and a flood of wetness soaks my panties.

A strangled noise pours from my throat, and that sound breaks the stasis holding me. Wedging my hand between us, I shove against Marcus’s chest, trying to stop this runaway train before he literally does fuck me against the car.

For a second, he doesn’t budge. Doesn’t stop.

His lips are wrapped around the junction of my neck and my shoulder, and he’s sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. The feel of it draws another low noise from me, and that, finally, seems to penetrate the singular focus that drives him.

He wrenches his head away from my neck, pulling back slightly. His blue and brown eyes are glazed, his lips slightly parted.

He glances over at his two friends, who stand just a few feet away, and I see him realize they’ve been watching us. I see him take in the expressions on their faces.

For a moment… he hesitates.

A new kind of tension saturates the air, and time itself seems to pause as he meets his friends’ eyes.

Then Ryland presses his lips together and turns away.

Theo’s gaze lingers for a second longer, moving over my body like liquid fire. But then he turns away too.

I barely have time to process the flicker of disappointment that flutters through my belly before Marcus turns his attention back to me. His hands skate over my ass and down my thighs, parting my legs to wrap them around his waist as he heaves me into his arms.

He carries me into the house, his path erratic since he’s barely watching where he’s going. His lips keep touching every part of me they can reach, and his heavy breaths are hot against my skin. We reach the second floor, and he makes it down the hall to his bedroom in a few long strides.

As soon as the bedroom door shuts behind us, he presses me up against it. His hands release my hips as he tears at my jacket, shoving it down over my shoulders. He can’t get it off, though. There’s no room. I’m sandwiched between the door and his large body, and my jacket is pinned to me.

He keeps tugging at it, yanking at the worn fabric in his desperation to get it off me, but unwilling to break his hold on me for even a second to make that possible.

The prosthesis on my other arm is controlled by movement in my shoulders, and the silicone hand is flailing erratically, but Marcus doesn’t even seem to notice. He growls into my mouth as he tries to shove my jacket down once again.

“Wait!” I gasp, pushing at him with my good arm. “Let me. I’ll do it.”

He’s breathing so hard that I can feel the rise and fall of his chest against my own. His eyes are glassy, his pupils blown out with desire, but he nods. Stepping away from me, he slowly unpins me from the door, setting me back on my feet.

My legs are shaky, and I realize as my feet touch the floor that I lost a shoe somewhere between the garage and the bedroom.

Marcus takes a step back, leaving hardly more than a foot of space between us. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he jerks his chin at me. “Take it off.”

Barely breathing, I shrug the jacket off my whole arm and then pull the sleeve off my prosthesis. A momentary flash of self-consciousness moves through me as the fake silicone arm is exposed. This thing is literally a replacement limb, but somehow it makes me feel more broken, more damaged, to have people see me wearing this than without it.

With long sleeves, it’s hardly noticeable. But bared like this? I feel like it’s all anyone can see.

The harness that attaches across my shoulders sits over my tank top, and I shift a little under Marcus’s stare. But he’s not looking at me with disgust, or even pity. The same fierce heat still burns in his eyes, and as I watch, he reaches down to cup himself through his pants, squeezing and rubbing the hard outline of his cock.

Like he can’t help himself.

Like he can’t fucking wait.

Like he needs some kind of relief right now or he’ll die.

“More,” he rasps. “Take off more.”

The sound of his voice and the sight of him stroking himself like that makes my thighs clench. My clit aches as I reach up to unclasp the shoulder harness of my prosthesis. I tug it off and pull the fake arm away from my amputated limb, dropping it gently to the floor. As I roll down the sleeve I wear over the stump to keep the prosthesis from chafing, Marcus’s gaze tracks the movement, devouring every new centimeter of my skin as it’s revealed.

The blood-red flowers and dark shadows of my tattoo come into view, and Marcus groans as I toss away the sleeve.

“Beautiful. You’re so fucking beautiful. More.”

Maybe I shouldn’t give Theo and Ryland so much shit for jumping when this man says “jump.” Because I’m no damn better. My mind is still spinning, a riot of unanswered questions, but I don’t hesitate when Marcus gives the command. My hand reaches down to the hem of my tank, and I pull it over my head, letting it drop away.

“More.” His voice is gravel.

My heart beats out a fast rhythm in my chest as I reach around behind me and unclasp my bra.

It hasn’t even fallen from my shoulders when Marcus moves. He’s on me again, pressing me back against the door as he yanks the bra off and throws it away. Then he drops his head to my chest and feasts like a starving man, grabbing both of my breasts in his large, calloused hands, kneading and massaging them, pressing them together so his tongue can lap first at one nipple, then the other.

When he draws one into his mouth and sucks, my back arches off the door, pressing my chest harder against his warm mouth, urging him to devour me. “Fuck! Oh, fuck. Marcus!”

The sound of his name on my lips seems to ignite something inside him. He releases my breast with a wet pop and lifts his head to claim a punishing kiss. I reach for him, wanting to get his shirt off too, wanting to feel his hot, smooth skin pressed against mine.

But before I do anything, he breaks our kiss and spins me around, tugging my hips back with a jerk. I bend at the waist and catch the door with one hand, the elbow of my other arm rising up to brace against the wood too.

“Fuck. I have to taste you again. See if you taste as sweet as I remember.”

Marcus’s muttered words come at the same time his hands find my waistband, pulling the zipper down before shoving my pants and panties down my legs. He doesn’t even bother taking them all the way off, leaving them pooled around my ankles as he slides his hands back up my legs.

They settle on my hips, and he pulls them backward again, making me arch my back even more.

A predatory hum resonates in his throat.

Then he buries his face between my legs.

I yelp, almost losing my balance again as my knees threaten to give out. I’ve never felt anything quite like this before. The angle is so unexpected that I can’t tell where the next stroke of his tongue will come from, and when he palms my ass cheeks and spreads them apart to give him better access to my pussy, I groan.

I feel helpless like this. My legs are trapped by the fabric of my jeans, and I can’t move because I need both arms to hold me up against the door. I can’t even see Marcus. But I can feel him. I can feel every forceful stroke of his tongue, and when my body starts to quiver, shuddering from head to toe, I can hear him mutter, “Come for me, angel.”

So I do.

My eyes squeeze shut as sensation explodes inside me like a bomb, shock-wave after shock-wave of pleasure detonating inside me. My knees really do buckle this time, and Marcus surges to his feet and catches me as I stumble forward, wrapping one arm around my waist to hold me upright while the other moves to my clit, rubbing fast circles to ride me through the last waves of my orgasm.

I’m pinned between him and the door again, my back molded to his front. I can feel the hard pressure of his cock against my ass, and I grind back against it, shifting my hips forward and backward to simultaneously ride his hand and his cock.

“Step out.” He nudges one of my legs with his, and I lift my foot, finally freeing it of my jeans and panties. “Other one.”

I repeat the gesture, and he kicks the clothes away before turning me around to face him. It’s not dark in the room like it was last time he carried me in here, so I can see every line of his face this time.

I can see the way his lips are swollen and red from worshipping me. I can see the way his dark brown hair is messier than usual, tousled pieces of it falling over his forehead. I can see the way his nostrils flare with each sharp inhale.

He’s beautiful.

Feral and wild.

I want to see more of him.

Fire flashing in his eyes, he moves to kiss me again, but I pull back.

“Wait,” I murmur. “Let me.”

His brows pull together a little, but he pauses, obeying my command for once. When I grab the bottom of his shirt and tug it up with one hand, he raises his arms to help me but lets me be the one to pull it over his head.

The broad, sculpted muscles of his torso come into view, and I let myself stare with impunity, dropping his shirt and running my fingertips down the cut ridges of his stomach. The muscles tense under my touch, and he makes a guttural noise.

I find the button of his pants and pop it open with a quick flick of my fingers, then drag his zipper down. He doesn’t help me with this either, instead resting both hands on the door on either side of my head. I can feel his gaze on my face, soaking up my expression, but I can’t look away from the place where my fingers work his pants and boxers down over his hips, letting his thick cock spring free.

My pussy clenches at the sight.

God, he’s so fucking big. No wonder it hurts. No wonder it feels like he’s conquering my body.

My clit is throbbing again, my heart stuttering in my chest as I drag my fingers slowly up and down the length of his shaft. Marcus leans closer to me, closing the small distance between us as his head droops, his forehead nearly resting on mine.

“How do you do this to me, angel? How the fuck do you wreck me so bad?”

I want to laugh, because if there’s anyone who’s been wrecked in this equation, it’s me. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. But the raw sound of his voice freezes the laugh in my throat.

Slipping my hand lower, I brush my fingers over the base of his cock, and I feel his balls tighten in response. When I wrap my hand around his broad girth, something inside him seems to snap.

With a grunt, he surges forward, lifting me in his arms at the same time. “Put me inside you. Now.”

I barely have a second to line his cock up with my entrance before he drives his hips into mine, slamming me back against the door as he fills me completely.

If I thought being fucked by Marcus once would make me used to it, I was wrong as hell. My body lights up with shock as my pussy clamps around him, the stretch of his invasion somehow both pleasurable and painful at the same time.

He uses gravity and his own strength to drive into me hard and fast, resting my upper body against the door as his hands grip my waist, lifting me up as his hips draw back before slamming me back onto his cock again.

I grab a fistful of his hair and hold on for dear life, and our gazes lock as he fucks me into the door.

Something seems to pass between us—something I couldn’t put into words even if I could speak right now—and I can’t look away from his face as tortured pleasure finally breaks across his features.

He slams his entire body forward with the last deep thrust, crushing me against the door as his cock throbs, flooding me with cum.

With a groan, he peels me away from the door and staggers across the room, laying me on the bed with his shaft still buried inside me. Murmuring soft, indecipherable words, he buries his face in my neck. He keeps thrusting, pulsing his hips against mine in small movements, continuing to fuck me even as his cock slowly begins to soften.

As if he can’t bear to stop.

As if he’ll never stop.

But finally, with one last shudder, he stills on top of me, his large body relaxing against mine.

We lie like that for a while, and he presses wet, lazy kisses to my skin every once in a while, like he’s still trying to devour me, even through the haze of sated exhaustion.

I don’t want to admit to myself how good this feels. How nice it feels to be wrapped up in this little bubble with him.

But it does.

So, of course, I have to try to break it.

“What the fuck happened back at my apartment?” I ask.

Just as I thought it would, Marcus’s body stiffens instantly. He presses up onto one arm and pulls out of me. I expect him to go cold, to glare at me and tell me it’s none of my fucking business.

But instead, he wraps one arm around me and rolls, bringing me with him to straddle him as he ends up on his back. He pulls me down against his chest and props one arm under his head so he can look at me.

“I know that guy. Carson Purcell.”

“Yeah. No shit.” I rest my palm on his chest, and my chin on the back of my hand. “How?”

He grimaces. “I’ve known him for a long time. He’s got money. A lot of it. New money. His family runs in the same circles as mine, so our paths have been crossing for years. He’s an asshole, and he’s never liked me—or Theo or Ryland.”

“That’s weird. You’re all so personable.”

Marcus’s head jerks slightly in shock at my response, and then he belts out a laugh. When he looks back down at me, the earth and air of his eyes dance with amusement. “I like you like this, angel. I like this side of you.”

The easy affection in his words makes a flash of panic rise up in my chest, so I ignore what he said entirely, keeping my focus on the topic at hand. “Why did he help Natalie get her apartment back?”

All the humor drains from Marcus’s face. “I don’t know.”

“Is he trying to start a fight with you guys?”

“Probably.” His arms wrap around me, pulling me a little closer. “But don’t worry. He can’t do anything more than be a dick right now. And we’ll deal with him.”

“Should I be worried about him? Or Natalie?”

“No.” His tone is definitive. He drags his hands up my body to cup my face, gazing into my eyes. Then he releases his hold and curls his hands into loose fists, letting me read the date stamped onto his fingers—the marker of the connection that binds us. “You shouldn’t worry about any-fucking-thing.”

He rolls us over once more, bracing himself above me as his lips find my skin, pressing warm kisses to my neck and chest.

And when he slides inside me again, for a little while, I don’t.