Breathtaken (Marcus Butler)

Chapter 9

A/N - Hey guys! Sorry it's quite short but again, it's a prep for the next chapter which will be longer and have other important stuff happen! xx

Chapter 9

"Kiss me like you wanna be loved, you wanna be loved, you wanna be loved," Marcus sang in my ear, causing me to giggle. He'd been doing this for a while; serenading me with Ed Sheeran songs. It definitely took my mind off the horrible events of this morning.

"This feels like falling in love, falling in love, we're falling in love," he continued, trailing kisses across my jawline. I smiled, smoothing the hair on the back of his head. This was nothing like I'd ever experienced before. Marcus' change of attitude towards the way he treated me was surreal, and sudden, but it felt amazing. I've always loved Marcus, but now we can show each other in a different way I guess. We've not done that yet, but I don't think even he is ready.

"Okay, my turn," I giggled, feeling I kind of owed Marcus back about now. He looked up and met my gaze, smiling before placing his soft lips on mine, definitely kissing like he wanted to be loved. I pushed him back by the shoulders, grinning mischievously before rolling him over so I was straddling him. His hand found mine at my side and lifted it into the air so his fingers could intertwine with mine. He did the same at my other side, giving me something to stop us smacking foreheads as I leaned down slowly. Our lips pressed together once more, the kiss deepening with every second. We eventually pulled apart, breathless, before I began trailing kisses from his neck down his bare chest. As I started tracing a finger around the lines of his highly-defined abs, I heard the muffled sounds of his giggling.

"Oh my actual god, I think you're the most ticklish person I know," I laughed, purposefully trying to make it even more ticklish for him after that. His body arched as he tried to contain his laughter, but I knew it was beginning to torture him. For some reason, I liked this control.

"Alright, enough! I can't take it anymore!" Marcus screamed. I sat up, straddling his lap once more. He tried to prop himself up on his elbows to see me better, but I shoved him back.

"Hey, what gives?" he asked, frowning as he anticipated my next move. I leaned down, my hair cascading past my shoulders and forming a sort of brunette curtain around his face.

"I feel powerful up here! Don't ruin my moment!" I whined, sounding like a spoilt child.

"Your moment? Really?" he exclaimed, trying not to laugh at my expense. I glared back.

"Okay fine, our moment that I am in complete control of," I corrected, smiling sarcastically back at his smug grin. Before he could say one more thing that would probably cause us to argue, I put a hand over his mouth, using my free hand to gesture for him to shut up.

"Anyway, we were in the middle of something," I whispered in his ear, feeling his body tense beneath me at my touch. Jeez, this was fun! It was nice to experience it the other way round. Suddenly, he nipped my hand in protest, causing me to yelp a little at the shock of it.

"Hayley, don't do this. You know what will happen. I am a boy, you know. We have...testosterone and...self-control issues," he explained, practically squirming as he thought about it. Huh. So that's the kind of reaction you get from teasing. Well, I hadn't even begun yet. I raised an eyebrow to him, trying not to laugh at what he'd just declared to me.

"Marcus, Marcus, Marcus...when will you realise I am fully aware of what I'm doing?" I said in a babyish voice. He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head at me but still suppressing a smile.

"Then you're cruel!" he snapped, jolting forward and crashing his lips onto mine, giving me no choice but to kiss him back. Technically, this was against the rules, but I had to admit a wound-up Marcus was, well, frickin' hot if you asked me. Even before we started dating, I always loved to wind him up. His reactions are just priceless sometimes, like Miranda's.

"Babe, I'm crueller than the Wicked Witch of the West," I smirked, tugging on his lip playfully with my teeth. It obviously had quite an effect on him, because he then placed his hand at the small of my neck, rolling me back over quite abruptly so I was under him. He bent down, purposefully rubbing his crotch against my inner thigh.

"Ding-dong, the Wicked Witch is dead," he whispered, a smug tone to his voice due the satisfaction it gave him to have the last laugh. I rolled my eyes, desperately trying not to giggle because honestly, that was a pretty amazing comeback. I ended up smiling anyway.

"Touché, Butler. Can I be a munchkin now?" I asked, giving him those puppy dog eyes to try and break his composure. That was just my rivalry instinct kicking in.

"But calling you 'munchkin' at the end of a sentence doesn't quite have the same ring to it as 'titch' does," he pointed out. Well, I guess that was a fair point. Better that than a witch.

"Okay, Marcus," I giggled. He could tell I was mocking him by the way I said it, so in one clean sweep, he caught both my hands in one of his, effectively pinning me to the top of the bed. With his free hand, he took the liberty of exploring wherever he wanted, knowing I couldn't object if I tried. Even his one arm holding both of mine was too strong for me to compete with. Not many guys are stronger than me, but for some reason Marcus always has been, even before he started working out at the gym. He must have inherited his physique.

"Marcus!" I yelped when his hand unexpectedly brushed against my breast. I saw him laugh.

"You're at my mercy now, titch. It's not just you who likes control," he smirked, pretty much mimicking exactly the way I spoke to him only moments ago. Jesus, were we both control freaks? Somehow I don't see that being healthy in a relationship, unless of course we wanted to live our lives as if we were in Mr & Mrs Smith.

"You're not funny, Marcus!" I moaned, cringing more and more as I anticipated where his hand would trail to next. Just as he began to near the top of my thighs, the doorbell suddenly rang downstairs. Instantly, we both sprang up as if we'd been electrocuted and bolted to the front door, leaving the events of 10 seconds ago back in my room. I quickly yanked the handle open, only to find nobody there. As soon as it hit me, that it wasn't Caspar but probably some stupid kid playing knock-a-door-run, a surge of emotion overtook me. I put a hand over my mouth, already beginning to whimper as the salty tears escaped from my eyes. But it wasn't long before strong arms encased me, burying my grief-stricken face in his chest. Marcus quickly kicked the door closed with his foot before sinking to the ground with me still in his arms, holding me tight to comfort me the only way he knew how.