Prompt: Wearing flip-flops in the rain (Thank you Elle Leigh!)
AU, Non-canon, Un-beta'd
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. The Twilight Saga and all characters, recognizable settings, etc. involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer.
Rating: Oh, this one is a big, fat M
A/N: Thank you for all the reads, reviews, and alerts! Check out duskri123's and Elle Leigh's prompt stories, they are pretty cool chicks and write some good stuff too.
So oh my goodness, y'all, this little prompt that could has me freaked out a bit. I've never written anything lemony or citrusy before and lemme tell ya', it's hard! OMG, I just said hard…haha!
Anyway, I challenged myself to write a citrus zinger and then I wimped out and immediately berated myself back into it. For real, I think I wrote like four little stories for this prompt. So here you have it, my lemonade….God this is scary….I'm just gonna run and hide under my covers now…Eep!
Marcus leaned back against the rich brocade of the sofa, seemingly lost in novel resting his hands. He flipped the pages in a timely manner and didn't appear distracted…but he was and he hadn't read a single word in over an hour.
Instead, he watched her. He watched as she paced along the windows, appreciating the slight bounce of her breasts against the cotton of her tight, white tank top, the jiggle of her full, ripe ass, and the daintiness and feminine curve of her toes against the ridiculous green flip-flops she often wore in the comfort of their quarters. He watched and waited as her restlessness and agitation grew, knowing that the impending thunderstorm was wreaking havoc on her. In the beginning, he thought it was odd— the effect that rain, thunder, and lightning had on her—but now he eagerly…anticipated…how the violent skies seemed to release the unseen bonds she kept on her more carnal, more primitive nature.
As he listened to the first rolls of thunder rumble across the rapidly darkening sky, his eyes flashed to her…watching…waiting…not missing a single movement she made, knowing that the hunt would soon begin.
She was a beautiful study of contradictions, his Bella. She was fierce and demure. She was his strong, independent equal and his little girl in need of guidance, reassurance…and at times a little discipline.
Lightning cracked the sky and Marcus watched for the telltale signs, impatient for his hunt to begin.
The stormy clouds finally opened and Bella's dark, hungry eyes flashed to his as the rain began to pour.
It was time.
Marcus watched her carefully as she warred within herself, her wants and desires in conflict with the mores, values, and social norms that she was raised to believe. Bella's notions of independence and fierce femininity were in direct conflict with this…this desire…this need she had…to be dominated, possessed by him and only him. Bella didn't want this with any other man, only her Marcus.
He rose slowly, sinuously from the sofa, and approached her gently, as though she was a frightened animal…and in many ways, she was.
Marcus towered over her, staring deeply into her eyes, as he pressed her flush against the wall. "Bella," he whispered, his lips and tongue brushing against the rim of her ear. "Oh my Isabella, whatever am I to do with you?"
"I-I," she stuttered as his teeth lightly scraped along the length of her graceful neck. Her back arched and he could feel the subtle roll of her hips, urging him on, her body encouraging him to take her. Marcus pressed his hips against her, relishing the contact, rolling his erection into the softness of her body. She responded, as he knew she would, whimpering and stretching against him, like a cat in heat.
"Marcus," she moaned, low and husky, spurring him on as he dug his fingers into her hips, easily manhandling her body. Her pulled her to him and drug her down the hall to the French doors, his fingers almost painfully gripping her fleshy hips. Marcus spun her around and pressed her against the glass, burying his face in her wild, dark curls, his hips flexing against the round globes of her pert ass.
He could feel her pant and shudder against him, giving way to her darker desires, knowing that her eyes were fixated on the lightning flashing across the sky and the torrential downpour muddying the gardens outside of their quarters.
"You like it when I chase you, don't you, Bella?" Marcus purred as he gripped her hair tightly in his hand and yanked it roughly, exposing her neck to him…his free hand dipping underneath her shorts and into her cotton panties. He cupped her wet sex possessively, because it—she—was his, and pulled her closer to him, grinding his throbbing cock against her. "You like when I hunt you."
"Yes!" Bella cried out, shivering and panting as his fingers teased her clit and his teeth scraped along her neck. Marcus growled, abruptly removing his hand from her swollen sex to open the door she pressed against.
"Marcus, please!" She moaned as he walked them both out into the storm, the rain quickly darkening her hair and making her slide just a bit in her flimsy flip-fops.
"Well then," Marcus whispered in her ear. "Run for me, my love, my darling mate."