With more wine in her system, Sophie feels more and more at ease with Mace. We have moved the conversation to the living room and she acts like they are best friends. I like to see them interact. I think Marcel likes it as well. It reminds me, I have never seen him have fun. Every time he is with his friend Eddy, it's because of me and some drama always happens. I am sorry to cause this in his life. I don't want there to be more drama between us.
"...since we've been together, I haven't been able to remember anything he taught me. How long did it take for you?" Sophie tells Marcel about something I didn't pay attention to.
"I learned in four months. Eddy taught me."
"Four months?! Wow! Is it because you learn quickly or because he is a good teacher?"
"A bit of both actually." He thinks a second and responds. "If you want, I could teach you."
"Would you?" Her face brights up and he proudly nods. She raises a finger and runs to her room to come back with her guitar. "Grace was actually complaining about how dusty it was earlier. I am happy to finally use it."
"It definitely is." He smirks and takes it on his knee, pressing his upper body against it. He blows on it to get most of the dust away.
He finger picks a few strings and quickly realises the guitar isn't tuned. I am blown away to see him tune it by ear. I sneak a look at Sophie who is completely smitten by the Marcel she sees tonight. Maybe it's the wine, but I am so thankful to their relationship evolving that much.
"I won't teach you anything tonight." Marcel says with his usual tone, but she doesn't take it the wrong way.
"I figured... Do you know any songs? Maybe, if you want, you could play us something before I leave you two and go get some sleep. The wine is hammering me."
"No shit?!" I let out with a laugh as it wasn't a secret. She wouldn't have been so open to Marcel if she wouldn't have been.
"What would you like to hear?" He politely asks as he fingerpicks absentmindedly the well-tuned guitar in his hands
"Surprise us." I ask of him with a large smirk.
He seems to think about it for a few seconds before I see a smirk growing on his lips. He takes the pick from Sophie and gives the guitar all of his attention. It takes a moment before I seem to recognise the tune. But then again, I doubt myself. It isn't until he starts to sing that I finally recognise it.
Iris.
"And I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now
And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
And sooner or later it's over
I just don't wanna miss you tonight
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's meant to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's meant to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's meant to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's meant to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am"
Neither Sophie nor I have said a thing as he surprisingly and beautifully sang the song Iris by Goo Goo Dolls. It wasn't awkward like it might have been with anyone else. It was the most gorgeous and the purest thing I have ever seen Marcel do. He made it seem so simple. There was so much emotion poured out with every single lyrics. He made me hope he was singing this song for me, but I don't have the pretension to do so. I content myself by being utterly smitten and at the edge of tears when he stops singing and looks back up at us.
Sophie looks at me as if it was the biggest blindside she had ever witnessed. I am irresistibly charmed over the wonderful and so talented man I have in front of me. I can't begin to imagine the thoughts going through Sophie's head right now. I am too preoccupied with the loud beating of my own heart.
God, I love him.
I feel it deep within my soul, deep within my being. He surprises me constantly. I want to give him the world and everything he deserves. I would. He ignites a fire so strong inside of me, I have never known I could feel like that. Will it always be that way when I am with him? Will that fade over time? Should I tell him?
"OK, this is getting weird. Can you both stop looking at me like that?" Marcel becomes himself again and it makes me smile as Sophie reacts by rolling her eyes.
"You are making this weird. How am I supposed to hate you now that I have heard you sing like an angel?"
"I am far from being an angel." He responds and it gets me the fattest smirk on my lips, which he notices and mirrors.
"OK now, turn down the naughtiness you two!" Sophie catches us and rolls her eyes again as she gets up from her couch. "I need to go to sleep because A) you two clearly need to be alone and B) I am way too uncomfortable with the level of arousal I feel for my boss right now. Don't worry, it's just the effect musicians have on me. And the wine! It's all because of the wine!"
I genuinely start laughing and notice the surprised grin on Mace's face. I have never seen him so... emotionally conflicted, but it's cute and hilarious to witness.
"Thank you, I guess..." He responds and finally starts to laugh.
"You're welcome, I guess..." She responds on the same tone he did and I feel so happy the evening has turned out the way it did. I couldn't have wished for anything better. On that note, she waves at us and steps backwards to her room. "I was pleasantly surprised by tonight. We should do it again sometime."
Marcel only nods once as a response. I take on me to wish a good night and sweet dreams to my friend before she leaves us for good.
My heart is still palpitating inside of my chest. I can't believe he made it sound even better than the original. I have always loved that song, but Mace definitely gave it a whole other meaning. I don't know what is happening to me. I feel like I am in a sort of trance. I have never felt anything quite like that for someone in my life.
I look back at him and lean a bit over his legs to take the guitar from his hands and put it on the floor next to us. I use this proximity to hover my body over him to press my lips on his in a profoundly passionate kiss. He pulls me to his chest where we both melt onto the couch. He returns my every ounce of passion as his tongue slides on my lips and conquers my mouth.
I feel it. I know it's love. I love him and I love how he makes me feel. I have both my hands resting on his cheeks, keeping his face very close to mine, pouring my every truths through our kiss.
I realise how hard I have been grinding my body against his when I feel how hard he is. That's when he gets more aggressive and takes the lead from me. He slides a hand through the back of my hair and pulls it back hard. My head follows his grip and I can't help a pleasant groan from leaving my lips as they break away from his.
He doesn't wait an instant to kiss his way from my jaw to the pit of my neck where his lips find my shoulder. I moan softly, ravishing to be entirely under his control.
"You have too many clothes on..." He complains silently against my skin as his hands under my bum press my groin harder against him.
"What are you gonna do about it?" I smirk with my eyes closed, focusing heavily on every movement of his lips on my skin, until it stops and I open my eyes to see him looking at me with a devilishly tempting smirk.
"Redefine the situation." He says quickly and pulls me closer to him as he gets up from the couch, holding me tightly, to bring me to my bedroom.
I loop my arms around his neck and take his lips captive between mine. We are barely able to breathe, but I can't seem to find it in me the strength to leave his silky smooth dark pink lips. He closes my bedroom door by pressing my back on the wood, making it close harder than we would have. But we don't care. He is the one grinding me now, with hard thrusts of his pelvis against mine. We create a low and quick beat on the wooden door. I am getting so irresistibly drugged by his presence. He has this roughness that reeks of desperation that I completely adore. It drives me wild. It's like he is losing himself in me, which is completely different than the first time we had sex. It was so controlled and purely physical, because it was what he was used to. But it's nothing as near as the intimacy we share right now. And we are still clothed.
The lyrics of the song come back in my head at that moment. "When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am." I love him, with all of his broken pieces. I love him for his imperfections. I love him for all of his scars. I love him for letting me know who he is. It wasn't easy to get him to open up, but I will always choose the hard path if it means to have moments like these.
"You drive me so fucking wild."
I shiver from deep inside of my core to his words. An uncontrollable wave of heat radiates from my sex to my heart. I want him. All of him.
"I'm yours, Mace. Do as you want with me." I moan as his kiss had slid to my neck and I could finally breathe again.
"You sure?" He whispers against my ears as he kisses me behind it delightfully lustfully.
"We play by your rules in the bedroom, remember?" I ask a rhetorical question and he doesn't waste a second to carry me from the door to the bed where he hovers me to kiss my lips again.
"Are you hurt anywhere?" He asks me, his lips leaving my skin to look at me, his head right above mine.
I frown and shake my head. "No, why?" But he doesn't answer. He leans down to kiss my cheek at the very corner of my lips.
"How do you feel about being tied up?" He gives me one last longing kiss on the lips as I am not quite able to return him since I am a bit shocked by his question.
"I don't know..." I respond and look into his eyes shining from lust, but sparkling as well... from excitement? No... Love. "I trust you."
He smiles a second before his fingers pinch my chin and he gives me a cute and light peck. He crawls back and out of the bed. It's easier for him to undress me. He unwraps me like a present, leaving trails of kisses on my skin. It overwhelms my heart that my body is shown so much adoration. I have always felt complexed and now this beautiful beautiful man is loving everything about me. I never thought I would be deserving of being loved like that. Marcel is no ordinary man and there's no one in this world I would trust more.
Suddenly, as he is straddling my now naked body, tying my wrists to the headboard of the bed with his belt, I look at him with every ounce of love I have for him within me. I feel like I am dreaming. That this is too good to be true. But I am not dreaming. This is real. And another lyric comes to mind.
"This is the closest to heaven that'll ever be."
He looks down at me and takes my face with both of his hands to give me the most loving kiss he has ever given me. I pull on the belt to let go of my hands so that I can return his kiss properly, but I'm stuck and I can't help but to let out a groan of frustration. He pulls back and giggles with a very fat smirk on his lips. It changes the mood from romantic to sexually playful in a second.
"This is fun already." He finds my eyes and keeps our gaze locked as he climbs out of the bed.
I tug on the belt again and my body fights in reaction to the strength I use on the leather band.
"You better stop tugging, Love, or I will blindfold you too."
Just like that, I stop. It's not that I don't want to be blindfolded, but I already can't touch him as I please. I would be going mad to not see him as well.
I look at him with all my attention as he undresses in front of me. I not only notice how gorgeous and irresistible he looks with his ripped body from all the boxing he does, but the scars he once told me about the very last time we were in this situation. I see his large and dark birthmark on his abdomen and I love what it has made him become. He has been through hell and back and I am sorry to think that I wouldn't change that for the world. It has forged him to be the most generous man I have ever met. He is generous with his heart, with his soul and with his talent.
And it's then that I promise myself to never let him walk away from me. In better or worse, I want to be his confidant. I want to be the person in which he will always rely on, the person who he trusts and can always count on to have by his side. I will never walk away from him.
He is standing in front of me, naked, at the end of my bed, standing confident with all of his beauty and all of his scars. He inspires me to do the same. I take a deep breath and relax all my tensed muscles. I even part my legs to expose myself to him. The corner of his mouth lifts a bit as he looks thoroughly at my body. He doesn't say anything and crawls on the bed to my height where he rests both of my legs on his shoulders. He climbs higher to tenderly peck my lips. We share a look for a second and he crawls back to trail kisses from my neck to my chest.
"Your skin smells so good." He murmurs as his lips kiss the valley of my breasts too terribly slowly.
He slides his tongue to my left nipple and my hips twitch in pleasure, asking for more. He wraps his lips around my sensible nibble and looks up to see me bite my lip as this is too tempting. I want more. He continues his circus to the other nipple and I moan as he tastes me again.
"And you taste even better."
I feel just how wet he makes me. I can't stop moving my hips to get some satisfaction but he still continues his journey slowly down to my belly button. The more desperate I seem to get the more kisses he gives to get to his goal.
Finally, I feel his breath against my moist core and I shiver from my toes to the back of my head. My hips absentmindedly agitate in front of his face, demanding attention. But he just looks at me and smiles.
"Please, Mace." I beg him.
"Oh Grace... What have I done to you?" He smirks to me, undeniably pleased with my behaviour.
"Kiss me." I ask of him to give my core the attention it is begging of him.
He smirks harder and it all makes him more desirable to me. It makes it harder for me to control my sexual urges.
"Like this?" He takes my right thigh and press his lips on it, trailing kisses to my knee. I shake my head. This isn't what I want. "Oh... You meant like this?" And he does that same fucking thing but to my left thigh. I groan in frustration and he looks back up at me with amusement. "You need to communicate with me, Grace. You need to tell me what you want..."
That little bitch. He uses the same fucking sentence I said to him relationship wise the first night we spent together. I need to step on my ego to ask him to please me the way I seem to be craving him.
"I want you... I want you to make love to me."
The moment I finish my sentence, the playful mood seems to drop. He doesn't look at me the same way. I fear I have ruined it all, that he doesn't make love, but fucks. I almost regret my words, but he softly takes my hips in his hands and dive his lips to my moist sex. He kisses me. I immediately feel the difference between how he has ever taken me. He doesn't perform, he loves. He isn't trying to please me the way he might have pleased other women. He kisses me like he has minutes ago in the living room. He caresses my abdomen upwards and reaches for one of my breast with his hand. He tries to touch me as much as possible.
Finally, he reaches for my cheeks and gives me a last longing kiss on my core to crawl back up to give my heart the same taste of passion. He assaults my lips with the greatest taste of love. He had snuck his body between my parted and inviting legs to give me what I have always longed for.
Since I can't touch him and hate not doing so, he touches me for the both of us. His body is fully pressed against me, my face cupped between his large palms. One soon leaves my face to grab a hold of him to unite us. He has barely entered me that I moan.
"Yes!"
I close my eyes to feel with every nerve every inch of his erection penetrating my palace of pleasure.
"Grace, look at me." He asks and I feel the darkness of my lust reflecting in my eyes. He shares it, but he has so much more in his eyes. "You're so beautiful."
My heart is about rip out of my chest. I don't only see his love in his eyes, I feel it through his kiss and I can't stand not being able to return it the way he deserves.
"Mace? Untie me." I ask and he worries instantly if I'm hurt and if I want him to pull out. He obliges immediately and throws the belt away.
"Are you OK?" He looks at my wrists flustered bright red by all the tugging I have done.
I don't waste a second to loop my arms around his neck and straighten myself to sit on him lotus-like to return him all the love he has given me. I rush my kiss on his lips and rock my hips to return all the passion he has given me. His arms embrace my body closer to him and slide to my bum to steady the rhythm of our bodies.
I need to stop kissing him to catch my breath a few times, but my lips can't stand being away from his. He has the sweetest essence to his lips and I can't seem to get enough. I pull him closer to me with an arm wrapped around his shoulders tightly and the other around his neck with my fingers deeply buried in his beautiful locks.
I feel it coming and Marcel can hear it through the desperation my moans get. He quickens the rhythm which brings an inevitable orgasm to my core. He pulls me harder to him, our sweat mixing together as I rip my lips from his to cry out my orgasm to his ear, my cheek tightly pressed against his. My vision gets blurry a second and I seem to stop everything I was to doing, collapsing in my lover's arms, leaving him to continue the job by himself until I find back my strength seconds later because I feel it coming again. Is that possible?! To come twice in a row?!
"I'm going to come again, baby."
"Come for me, Grace." He murmurs to my ear as I keep us in a hugging embrace, our cheeks pressed together still, our skin being overly but erotically sweaty.
To his words, with his husky and lustfully raspy tone, I feel another wave of heat spread inside of me that echoes through all of my muscles brought by the pleasure that the man I love so much brings me.
I get weak instantly and lean without strength on him, in the same position we have been for the last few minutes as I seem to erupt of pleasure like a volcano and he hasn't yet. I don't even worry about if I'm doing something wrong since he hasn't come yet, because I am beautifully loved by this man I seem to be drugged by, because he makes me feel so great right now I could ask him to marry me at this instant.
How can sex make me feel like that?
It isn't just sex. We are making Love. The real one. With a capital L.
I am in such a haze of pure bliss and desire I dive my lips to the pit of his neck. I kiss him lovingly and trail my way to his ear where I find myself whispering his name and biting his earlobe. He grunts in response.
"Mace..." I murmur again.
"Grace..." He responds very erotically.
"Mace." I let out a bit louder, as I am surprised by another high building inside of my core.
"Grace!" I hear his change of tone and I know how he loses himself in me.
He lays me back in a hurry on the pillows and his shaft has a different angle that makes him hit the right spot every time. He rams into me like a desperate soul getting messy and quicker and I seem to feel the high getting overwhelmed by that much pleasure that I explode from within a third time and it lasts. It seems to encourage Marcel because he fucks me at a devilish pace that keeps the high coming inside of me for incessant seconds until he growls with me. It's primal and very very irresistible.
I have never felt anything remotely like this before. It's inhuman. We are both blessed by the gods.
I keep my breath to let the orgasm last, but catch my breath when I am about to pass out. I feel his erection pulsate inside of me as he is giving me every drop of semen I have procured him. Now, I can't seem to see anything else than black dots around me when my eyes are open. I am feeling too hot to be bearable. Marcel too. He slides, almost lifeless, next to my convulsing body. I feel every of my nerve shaking. I also feel his huge load sliding down my bum cheeks.
I look at him and see his chest rise high up quickly as does mine. I turn on my side and get close to him without touching him too much. We're too hot. I press my head to his chest and kiss his skin in a single peck. I feel his heart calm down slowly and his arm wrapping around my shoulders to pull me to him. I think back on what he had said earlier at work. He can't stay tonight, he has an appointment tomorrow. I secretly wish he is too knackered to leave me tonight... But I also want to do the right thing.
"Do you really need to go home? Can't you stay with me for the night?" I murmur softly, lifting my head to look into his eyes.
He sighs deeply and rubs his eyes with his free hand.
"Yeah, I do... I have an early brunch in the morning..." He only responds and I don't know what to think of it. I am clearly disappointed, but there's nothing I can do. "...but I must admit how hard you are making it for me to leave."
I immediately smile and look back up at him. I turn to lay on my tummy and I look at him with the most childish and innocent excited look I have.
"Please, stay." I almost beg him.
He takes back his arm from around my body and slides his legs outside of the bed. I don't know where he finds the energy to get up, but I am very sad to see him leave me like that after what we've just shared.
"I can't." He only responds.
I look at him get dressed again with a deep pain in my chest. I feel as if he is leaving me like he did last time. I don't want him to leave me with that feeling. I get on my knees and crawl at the edge of my bed to meet him.
"I don't want you to go, Mace. Please..." I take his hand now that he is fully clothed and ready to go. He doesn't know how bad I don't want him to leave. Tears are tickling my eyes.
"Grace..." He warns me as he kisses my hand goodbye. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be. OK?"
He slightly smiles at me as he squeezes my hand three times before heading for my bedroom door, but I stop him and squeeze his hand back four times.
He freezes and looks back at me, completely gobsmacked. Two tears fall from my eyes as I pull his hand to my lips. I look at his confused yet hopeful stare looking at me thoroughly. I smile slightly, just as he did seconds ago, and tell him what I have been thinking about everytime he has squeezed my hand.
"I love you too."