Turning off the faucet, I turn and make my way out of the bathroom, flipping off the light as I pass. Marcus sits on the end of my bed and I pause, leaning against the frame of the bathroom door, the exhaustion already getting to me.
His eyes are filled with something I can’t quite make out, but what I can tell is that it’s deep. I shake my head, glancing away from his heavy gaze. “Did you leave him to the wolves?”
“Yeah,” he says, tilting his head in that creepy way I’ve become so immune to as his eyes darken with something sinister. “Something like that.”
A chill runs down my spine and I quickly realize that I don’t want to know what their version of leaving him to the wolves really means. “Okay,” I say, shaking my head, seeing him watching me with concern, having only just finished washing the blood splatter off my body and throwing my destroyed dress into the hamper. The thought of talking it through makes me want to hurl. “It’s over. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Marcus stands and slowly walks toward me, hovering over me and making it impossible to look anywhere but right into his dark, seductive eyes. “I don’t want to talk,” he tells me, his low tone vibrating right through my chest. “I want to make you feel.”
My brow arches as heat swirls deep in the pit of my stomach. His hand falls to my bare waist as I stand before him in nothing but a cropped tank and black Brazilian panties. “I don’t know,” I murmur, desperately wanting what he can offer, but knowing that my body simply can’t keep up with him, not tonight at least. “I need to rest. I’m sore and woozy. I think I need another hit of morphine and sleep.”
He shakes his head, a wicked grin pulling at his lips. “I’ve got something better for you.”
My brows furrow as Marcus’ hand falls to mine and he gently pulls me across my room. I follow blindly, trusting him with my body despite my better judgment. His fingers are skilled far beyond anything I could ever comprehend and could take my life within seconds, yet when he touches me, I know that he will never hurt me. At least not at this very moment. When it comes down to it, if it were a choice between me or one of his brothers, it would be my life ending that night.
He leads me to the edge of my bed and turns me so that the front of my thighs are gently brushing up against the soft mattress. He steps in behind me, his fingers sailing over my skin, moving down until they’re hooked into the edges of my panties.
Marcus draws them down my legs, being careful not to allow the flimsy lace to touch any of my stitches. They fall to my feet and I step out of them before gently kicking them under the bed. His hand immediately presses back to my waist as I lean against his wide chest, his wicked scent overwhelming my senses in the best way.
Wetness floods between my legs, and despite the exhaustion weighing me down, I know that I won’t be able to resist anything that he’s willing to give me.
His other hand curves around my waist and slips under the hem of my tank, sailing up my body until his fingers are skimming over my nipple. He gently pinches it and I suck in a breath, pressing my back harder against his chest.
I slowly raise my arms and he doesn’t hesitate, pulling my tank over my head. He does it with ease, not catching on a single stitch, unlike me who just spent over five minutes trying to get the bastard on.
Marcus presses against my back, pushing my torso down. My hands shoot out and catch myself against my mattress as Marcus’ hand skims over my ass. “Have you ever tried E?” he questions, making me peer back over my shoulder to watch the way his darkened gaze sweeps over my exposed ass.
My brows furrow, having absolutely no idea where he’s going with this. “I mean, I tried it in high school but it’s not like I really knew what I was doing.”
He nods and glances toward the bedside table where a small packet of white pills sits right in the center beside a mess of powder, telling me exactly what he’s been doing in here while waiting for me to finish in the bathroom.
I feel his fingers between my legs, mixing with my arousal and dragging it up toward my ass. “Spread them wider,” he tells me, the desire and nerves pooling deep in my gut as I try to figure out what the hell is about to happen.