Permanent Marker (The Kinky Truth) Read online

  The energy of her sob filled the air before the sound of it. “Damn it! You don’t understand!” Despite the dismissal, she gripped his forearms like driftwood in a flood. “I have to forget, okay? I can’t fly. I’ll fall. Can’t you see that? I’ll fall far, and it’ll hurt. And I won’t be able to heal the damage this time. I won’t be…able to…”

  The tears took over her voice, and her pain took over his heart. He enveloped her hands in his own and slid them up around his neck, swearing if he ever met the people responsible for this disgusting mental programming, he hoped it was in a crowd. In close quarters, he doubted the bridge between his rage and his fists would stay intact.

  “You won’t fall, sweetheart.” He tucked her head into his chest. “I swear it. I won’t let you.”

  She softened, just a little, against him. She fit there so perfectly, smelling of rain and vanilla and sex, surrounding his senses, unchaining his soul.

  “Rose,” he whispered. “Rosalind. Sweet pet…” The last of it died in the beginning of their kiss, a consummation of tongues and lips and need. A mewl swirled up her throat, unfastening his self-restraint by a dozen more latches. He ended the kiss by twisting a hand into her hair and pulling hard. She hissed as her head arched back, a sound mixed of pain and pleasure, and that drove him to sink his teeth into the flawless column of her neck.

  “Y-you have to s-stop calling me th-that,” she stammered.

  He went for the sleek line of her jugular. “Hmm. All right. If you really don’t like it…”

  “I love it.” She tunneled her fingers into his hair. “Which is why you need to stop.”

  He growled against her skin. “That, my pet, is called topping from the bottom. And if you’re not careful, it’ll get you punished.”

  Her hands stilled against his scalp. She tugged her head back, tilting her gaze, catching his eyes with a look he’d not seen from her before. Her face quirked with mischief. Holy hell, was the little minx playing with him? Testing him? Every entrancing veil in her gaze said yes. But he saw she assessed herself as well, wondering if she could trust what he’d been trying to ram into her head since last night, if she could really believe her desire was beautiful, acceptable.

  Mark’s reaction made itself known from his waist down. If she didn’t know his stance on defiance before, she sure as hell felt it now. He hadn’t buttoned up completely, and now his cock threatened to take down his zipper on its own.

  To make matters worse, she sucked in her bottom lip by a few coy degrees. “Punishment? For topping from what bottom? I’m not on the bottom.”

  He tossed his head back, laughing loud. “And that wasn’t very careful!”

  She smiled a little, getting ready to pop off a victorious giggle, until he bent over and flung her all the way over his shoulder.

  “Aggghhh!”

  He gripped her thigh with a savoring snarl. “Beautiful scream. Go ahead and give me another, honey. My ears don’t care, but my cock’s listening loud and clear.”

  “Damn it! Senator! Wait—Owww!”

  Her finishing howl came with the smack he dropped to the curve of her ass. “Call me Senator again, and it’ll hurt twice as much. You were warned, Rose. And as long as we’re at it—” He added another spank, though this one was less intense. “That’s a reminder about the not so little attempt to top.”

  “I didn’t know that’s what it was!” Her protest was filled with genuine outrage. But her body conveyed another message. There wasn’t an ounce of resistance in her muscles, even as he took her to the bedroom with purposeful strides.

  “Right.” He drew out the word in disbelief, just as Dante had an hour ago. He forced his face to convey the same thing as he flipped her over, tossing her to the center of the bed. It was damn hard to hold his scowl. She was so adorable. He gazed at her, damp and sputtering, her skirt nearly hiked to her waist again, giving him tantalizing peeks at her bare mound. She gaped at him with eyes that burned with dark bronze radiance.

  “What the— I was just—”

  “Wondering why you weren’t on the bottom.” He curled fists to his hips, standing at the foot of the bed. “Which fit perfectly with my own dilemma, wondering why you keep denying the magic of who you can be. So here you are, Rose.”

  She pushed on her elbows. Then gave a moue of resignation. “On the bottom.”

  “On the bed,” he clarified. “On the bottom comes next, unless you take the invitation now to get up and leave. The choice is still very much yours. But let me be clear. We’re beyond talking about this. And I’m beyond chasing you. If you stay, you give up the choice to run from me, at least for tonight. If you stay, you’re giving yourself—and your control—to me, for the entire night. If you stay, I’m going to do everything in my power to seduce you, command you, and fuck you into seeing the gift of who you are, what you want, what you need. I’m going to do it as many times as it takes, until you believe me.” He savored the disconcerted flutter of her lashes, and the way her breathing intensified. “You’ll sleep eventually because you need to for instruction tomorrow, but you’ll do it at my side, in my arms. Everything clear?”

  Her face showed a kaleidoscope of feelings as he finished the ultimatum. And yeah, ultimatum was the best way of putting it. Fuck subtlety. He was done with that, if they could even get away with the label for where they’d been so far. What they’d even tasted so far with each other was worth honesty in its most ruthless form. This woman…fed him. Satiated an awesome, long-dormant beast in him. And whether she accepted the truth of it or not, he’d awakened an answering animal in her too. He wanted more of that creature. He wanted to give her more. What she could discover beneath his touch…the fathoms of herself, of her beauty…hell. He was going to be hard-pressed to teach her all of it in the week they had left, but he was sure as hell willing to try.

  But if he had to shove his beast down again, he needed to know now.

  Otherwise, his Dom was going to break free completely—and enjoy a nice, extended stay in the magnificent landscape of Rose Fabian’s mind, body, and soul.

  Chapter Ten

  Rose tried to look away from him. God, she needed some balance. Just a second of escape from the maelstrom of her senses, for which he was responsible. But her stare kept gravitating to him alone.

  He reminded her of a caged, enraged lion. Yet his words had made things clear. She held the key to that cage. If she got up and walked out now, his confinement would remain intact. Those precious, pounding, consuming moments outside would remain a secret forever, for the two of them alone. A beautiful, inescapable memory. A night she’d undoubtedly play over and over for the rest of her life, remembering the man who’d seen into the untamed depths of her soul, shone his golden gaze on it, and made her feel, for once… Perfect.

  The word became a taunt in her head as she fell to the coverlet and threw both arms over her face. Why the hell had she given in? Why had she come here tonight? Why, damn it, had he given her a taste of perfect, knowing she couldn’t choose more for all the right, logical, sane reasons and knowing she’d throw them all away to get just one more bite.

  She balled her hands, swiped them across her stinging eyes, and rose to a sitting position. She tucked both legs tucked beneath the ass that still stung a little from his whacks.

  “I’m scared.”

  “I know.”

  Mark’s voice, full of gravel and command, brought back how he’d made her feel out by the pool. Drenched in his power. Lost in his control. Reveling in the open flood of his lust. And yes, even loving how he’d bound her. Ohhhh, yeah. Loving that part the most. In confusing, terrifying, I’m-going-to-lose-myself-completely ways.

  Now she was really scared.

  The conclusion beat harder into her blood as he climbed onto the bed with her, one leg after the other. Rose swallowed. Were his thighs always built like a racehorse, or did she just notice now because he flexed them with such authority?

  He pulled her up next to him so their kn
eeling poses matched. He kept his hands on her shoulders, kneading her skin with deep, assessing strokes. “You’re trembling.”

  “Y-yeah.”

  “Are you cold?”

  She pulled in a breath. His scent filled her head, wild and wet, like the storm gathering force outside. “No.”

  He inhaled too. Then he trailed his fingertips down her arms, stopping at her wrists. “It turns me on.”

  His voice was a serration of sound, sending quivers into the extremes of her body. When she raised her gaze over the balanced ridges of his abdomen, she stopped at the solid planes of his pecs. His nipples were rock hard with arousal.

  She shivered again.

  His fingers tightened on her wrists. Then circled both of them. “Is this scary?”

  She looked down to where he clasped her. His long, strong fingers were dark gold shackles around her lighter skin. “A little.”

  “Enough to stop?”

  “No.” The force of her protest came as a surprise. She shot her gaze up to his, knowing she likely looked like a fool, though she couldn’t stop. He fixated her, the complete combination of everything that was right and wrong, like looking at the sun without eye gear. What a beautiful way to burn out her senses.

  “Please,” she implored. ”Don’t make me keep thinking about this. Don’t make me keep choosing.”

  “Not an option.” His eyes darkened to amber embers. “You have to choose, Rose. You need to. I want to dominate you, not force you.”

  The way his voice dropped on that sentence, dipping each syllable in thick, sensual intention, coated her whole body like melted butter. She flashed her tongue out as if needing to taste the stuff too. And was unable to fight the temptation anymore.

  “And if you were dominating me right now, what would you do?”

  A sound between a rumble and a hum vibrated from his throat. Five seconds later, he snared both her wrists in one of his hands, jerked them high over her head, and used that leverage to shove her down to the bed. As he followed her down, he shoved the insides of her thighs with the outside of his own. Inside another five seconds, she was captive and spread for him.

  And instantly wet for him.

  His gaze dropped, skating over her nose, then down to her mouth with hungry intent. Her lungs ached in response. She couldn’t get enough air. And she never wanted to again.

  “I’d probably do something like this,” he murmured. “And then something like…this.”

  He took her lips then, going slow and sensuous for all of two seconds. That was more than fine with her. She didn’t know if she could take the love-me-tender approach for longer than that. She purposely drove him on with a moan that bordered on protest, knowing what his mouth was capable of inciting in her now and needing more, so much more, of that force. As lightning sizzled the air with electric heat, she sucked his tongue hard, a negative charge needing its positive. Mark’s hand corkscrewed tighter on her wrists. With his other hand, he pulled her chin down, opening her wider for the stabbing invasion of his mouth. Their noses slammed. Their breaths mingled. They tore and tugged and bit at each other. She couldn’t get enough of him; there wasn’t enough, no matter how hard or urgent or fervently she tore at him.

  Thunder boomed through the room, as if the universe confirmed what she already knew. The switch of hesitation had been flipped. No turning back now. No wanting to. No needing anything except how this man ignited her.

  They finally pulled back from each other with protesting groans. She stared in fascination as Mark released her and reared up. Veins stood out against the muscles of his torso. His mouth was parted; his teeth were bared. He was a living embodiment of untamed lust…and her deepest fantasies.

  Three words came out of him with hard command.

  “Strip. Everything. Now.”

  He shoved back to give her room. Rose still trembled, but obeyed as fast as she could. The blouse was the easy part, since he’d already taken advantage of its design tonight. When she rose up on her knees to slide off the skirt…that was when her hesitation sneaked in. She wasn’t naive. She kept some of the jiggle in check with a jogging addiction, but her backside wasn’t ever going to grace a Victoria’s Secret runway. Okay, so he’d seen the goods before—but what happened in the fitness room seemed an accident, a dream. This was more real. More significant. More of what it was. A choice. A huge one.

  “Rose.” His husky murmur came as soon as she slipped the skirt to the floor. “You’re so fucking stunning.”

  She attempted a little smile. She was totally unsure how to respond, what to do. Even if she did, she wasn’t sure she could move anyway. His stare burned every inch it scanned, making her even more aware of her nakedness, paralyzing her with its heat.

  “Stay right there, pet. Spread your knees just a little more, then get your balance.”

  That took care of wondering what to do. Only now, thanks to his unfaltering tone, she actually felt the cream of her pussy flowing and drenching her folds as she complied. She couldn’t help but roll her hips, gasping with her growing arousal.

  “Very nice, honey. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Lace your fingers together behind your head. Straighten your spine. Show me those beautiful breasts. Don’t ever be ashamed of your body when you’re with me.”

  “When you’re with me.” The words sang through her senses as she moved into the position he detailed. The statement, and the way he’d said it with such surety…they implied things, didn’t they? Like maybe there’d be more nights like this. That this was just the first of many things he wanted—no, expected—her to remember when they were together. Even the consideration of such a thing filled her with a joy as she spread wider for him, uncovering her heart, just a little bit more, just as she bared her body.

  Mark easily closed the distance between them. He spread his fingers, raking the tips up her stomach, ribs, then higher. Rose’s breath hitched. Her pulse spiked. She shook again as he curled a slow smile. Once his hands were at her breasts, he cupped them possessively. The swells rose and fell against his fingers as he tugged her nipples to attention, playing along their hard plateaus with little scrapes of his thumbs.

  Her sigh became a gasp of desire—and amazement. She’d experimented a few times with touching her breasts but had no idea they could feel like this. She never thought that a knowing tease on her nipples would have repercussions deep in her womb, igniting her with waves of such exquisite pleasure. It was beautiful, wonderful magic.

  “Time to wake her up completely, Rose.” He said it as he pinched her tips even tighter.

  “W-wake who u-up?”

  “You already know. Her. The Rose inside you. The one who’s wanted this for so long. Who’s yearned to be at the mercy of a man, to feel him pushing you like this. Demanding more from you like this.”

  As he drew the last word out with carnal languor, he turned his fingers into dual clamps, squeezing the tips of her breasts without mercy. In an instant, taunting pleasure became shooting pain.

  “Shit!” She dropped her hands and shoved at him instead. Why her pussy pulsed even harder, she had no damn idea.

  Mark responded with a narrow glare and a cautioning tilt of his head. He doubled the pressure on her nipples. She keened, then glared.

  “Get those hands back up behind your head, pet. I won’t ask again.”

  She had no idea why she complied. But something deep in his voice spoke to the darkest chemistry of her body, driving her arms back up. She shook from the confusion of it. “What the hell is wrong with me?” she pleaded. “This is wrong! I shouldn’t want this!”

  “Really?” The man had the nerve to smile as if she’d simply admitted a craving for peanut butter and pickle sandwiches. Without saying another word, he released his hold, then slid off the bed and stood behind her. He pressed close, reaching to cup a hand over the tight curls that shielded her sex. With knowing confidence, he wove two fingers through her slippery tissues. But he didn’t stop there. He twisted h
is wrist, working his long digits inside her, chuckling in response to her gasps. “Your body tells me differently, Rose. Fuck, you feel so good. So tight and wet again.”

  He shifted closer, his breath now a harsh but warm wind along her back. It was barely a hint of the fire he delivered next. With his free hand, he gave a quick smack to one side of her ass. Rose cried out from surprise more than anything, a sound that softened to a sigh when he soothed the sting into sweet, arousing flames. After he did the same thing to the other side, she started writhing in need, grinding herself on the fingers still exploring her deep tunnel.

  “Your body’s screaming at me again, honey. You’re soaking me. Clenching me.” He sidled closer, pressing his hot, slick torso against her. “You don’t just want this. You need it. You love that moment when the pain becomes fire, when the resistance turns into acceptance. When you know you’ve taken it, absorbed it, are stronger because of it. And you are strong, my Rose. So resilient, radiant. You captivate me with the strength of your surrender.”

  His words…his tone…his touch… It was an onslaught of adoration she’d never experienced from anyone. It was exactly what he’d promised. Transformation. Rose sagged beneath him, the last clouds of her resistance turned into the rain of her tears. She unclasped her hands from her head and roped them around the back of his instead. She needed him close, yearning to meld him and the truth he spoke into her heart forever.

  “Yes,” she said on a bare breath. “Yes…Sir…please…”

  His beard scrubbed the top of her shoulder. “Please what?” he prompted. “Tell me what you need, honey. I’ll give it to you. Anything.”