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She awoke startled as her body jumped; she clenched her eyes trying to concentrate on any noise, trying to figure out what had woken her, realizing that she had fallen asleep. When she went to move, she found herself held in a tight embrace. In sleep, Marshall had moved, his leg wedged between hers, his head under hers and his left hand holding her bottom, while the other held her head against his.
Mary felt his lips against a sensitive spot behind her ear, as he breathes a sigh of contentment. In seconds, her body went from nice comfortably warm don't-want-to-move to I-need-this-man-deep-inside-me intense white hot heat. She gasped as he nuzzled deeper into the sensitive spot, her hands coming up from their previous location, around his shoulder, into his hair. Without giving her body any instructions, she tilted her hips and pressed hard against the thigh he held against her soft center.
Marshall moaned at the sensation of her hands deep inside his hair, scratching his head. He moved his lips over her neck and licked a trail of blazing heat to her ear, suckling the lobe into his mouth.
She groaned and began the age old dance against his thigh; she couldn't get enough of him. He pulled her thigh over his waist and shifted, managing to grind his hardness against her soft center.
They moaned in unison and they continued their friction fully clothed, Marshall's left hand migrated from her bottom, up under her shirt, cupping her breast through her bra. He softly rubbed his thumb over the nipple, feeling it pebble at the ministrations. His mouth was everywhere, it would go to her neck, over to her shoulder, right back to her neck, placing a trail of kisses up to the spot he had found that made her gasp. Licking behind her ear, he reveled in silence at her gasp, loving that reaction.
He managed to pull her under him, her long legs managed to wrap around his waist, he bucked over her. His hands tilting her hips as he thrust against her soft center, she whimpered in pleasure and arched under him.
Marshall couldn't believe that she was so responsive to his every touch, every caress, he felt like he was on top of the world. Pressing her against the couch, his hands travel up her sides, as soon as he reached the edge of her shirt, he pulls it up and off. Once the shirt was off its shucked to a corner of the living room, her bra following close behind.
He stared down at her exposed flushed breasts, staring in awe as his hands caressed up and down her sides. He felt himself grow harder than he had ever been in his life. He uttered a curse under his breath and his right hand came up to cup the fullness of her breast, brushing her nipple with his thumb.
She groaned and looked up into his face, gasping at the intense desire she sees there. And gasps again when he removes his hand, only to trail his index finger around and around the areola, not touching the pebble nipple.
He looked up and locked his darken blue eyes to her green, "You have freckles on your breasts."
Mary blushed furiously and tried to look away but the intent in his eyes wouldn't give her that option, she murmured as she stroked his temple, "Do you hate them?"
He wasn't sure how he could form any thoughts let alone words but he managed on a low growl, "They're one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen."
He dropped his head to show her just how much he liked them, with his tongue, he traced a hot, wet path over the spray of small, pale brown flecks. She squirmed and thrust up onto his hard manhood, her hands lost in his brown locks as she pulled him closer on a strangled moan.
Finally, he drew one hard nipple into his mouth.
"Marshall," she whimpered, unable to hold still as he suckled first one, then the other breast, softly at first but at her first, "Harder." He suckled the nipple entirely into his mouth and sucked hard, using this tongue trapping her swollen nipple against the roof of his mouth. His attention solely on her pretty pink nipples.
"You are so incredibly beautiful, Mare," he muffled against her chest as he moved over to the other breasts and repeated the same attention.
She moaned in pleasure, her hands moving over to his shoulders and pulled him impossibly closer as she continued to thrust up against his rigid flesh.
His other hands migrated down to her bottom and clasped her hip in his large hand, as he steadied her for his hard thrust.
Her hands reached between them and opened the top bottom of his jeans, lowering the zipper hurriedness.
Then, "Mama!"
They froze, her hands inside his pants, his hands were one on her hip and the other on her exposed swollen breast, holding it up to his hungry mouth, and she was arched under him.
"Shit!" Marshall cursed as he collapsed on her, bracing his weight on his forearms. After a few seconds he sat up, her long legs unwrapped around his waist, but didn't move them away from him, one leg over his lap, the other behind butt. She lay there gasping for breaths, panting as her breasts jiggled every time she took in more air.
He stared down at the disheveled woman and closed his eyes as he reached down to the edge of his shirt, pulling it up and off, "Put this on, I don't know where yours…"
He didn't finish as he stood up and walked into Norah's bedroom, Mary hurriedly sat up and shrugged into the t-shirt. Cursing lewdly for forgetting not only that her daughter was in her room, but that Marshall was still engaged to Abigail. What the hell were you thinking? He's engaged!
A few minutes later, she heard him as he walked out and found Mary with her hands holding her head up as she leaned her elbows to her knees.
"What's wrong?" he asked softly as he tensely looked at her, worried that she was regretting what they had done. Oh, here it comes, she regrets it already. Way to go Mann!
"You're engaged," she whispered aggressively, then stood up and walked into her bedroom, her head down to keep the curtain of hair covering her face.
He stood unmoving in shock, he had forgotten that little tidbit, something that he would soon rectify. Praying for Mary's forgiveness, as he waited for her to come out of her room. He heard the shower running and sighed sadly, he knew she wouldn't be out soon.
Holding Norah in his arms, he sat back down and blushed at the thought that if Norah hadn't yelled for her mother, he would've made love to her. Glad that Norah had been around, he would rather break it off with Abigail before going any further with Mary.
With that thought in mind, he began to tickle the little girl, kissing her rosy cheeks and waited for her mother.
Mary stepped into the shower, standing under the shower spray with her hands braced against the tile and willed the guilt to slide down into the drain.
The guilt was eating at her because she never thought she would be a cheater, not after Raphael had cheated on her with his nurse, and even though Marshall was the one in a relationship and had cheated on his fiancée, she had helped him by being a willing participant.
But the guilt wasn't as strong as the fear. Fear that Marshall was playing the field, even though her rational mind told her that Marshall wasn't a bastard like that, her trust issues had her doubting not only him but herself as well. She was still afraid that he could potentially regret it, or worst, going ahead with the wedding to the detective.
Dammit Mary! What the hell's gotten into you? What happened to being in control? You can't lose sight of the things you wanted for Marshall, like him being happy, her conscious drilled, but then her heart whispered, We can make him happy.
After she finished her shower, she stepped out and stared hard at herself, she could see a difference in her eyes. A light had gone on with Marshall's touch and she wasn't sure if she could let it go. She wrapped herself in a towel and opened the door, took two steps out when she came to an abrupt halt.
Marshall was sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard, no longer shirtless, bouncing Norah on his knee. When he saw the door open, he looked up and saw her come out. As soon as she saw him, she froze in place and stared at him.
"Hey," he whispered softly, watching her like a hawk, she had walked out with a towel wrapped around her body and her hair fell limply down, dripping water onto the towel. After he had heard the shower, he had stayed out and played with Norah for a bit, enjoying any time he spent with the little girl.
But after a while, when Mary was still in the shower, he had walked into her room and waited her out. He had never been a cheater and he wasn't about to start now, even if he had started in both the bed earlier in the morning and later on the couch.
He had thought of going over to his place and breaking up with Abigail, but decided to clear the air where Mary was concerned. He needed to make sure she understood what their activities meant to him.
Mary opened her mouth and closed it, walking over to her dresser drawer and looked for her underwear.
"Mare?" he asked tentatively.
"What?" she snapped as she pulled out a pair of black undies along with the matching bra.
He sighed at her curt response, "I'm sorry"
She turned to him and frowned, "What exactly are you sorry about? Making out with me? Cheating on your fiancée? What? Just tell me!"
She exploded and glared at him, when he didn't respond quickly, she walked towards the bathroom.
He set Norah in the middle of the bed, pulling the pillows around her, "Don't move sweetie."
Marshall stopped the door from closing on his face, pushing it open and pulling her out roughly, "Wait a minute."
She tried to push him off, but he didn't budge, his arms wrapped around her waist, he lowered his head and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, "Stop running."
She closed her eyes and rested her forehead to his chest, "What are we doing Marshall?"
The weight that had settled when she exploded eased a bit, resting his chin on top of her wet hair he murmured, "We're loving each other, Mare."
TBC...up next, more lovin'? Break up?