Chapter 4: Forbidden Claims

Lila’s chair scraped backward so hard it nearly tipped. The robe slipped off one shoulder, cool silk dragging over her heated skin as she lunged for the door.

Her pulse hammered in her ears, louder than the rain still hammering the glass. Tyler’s father. She had let Tyler’s father stretch her open, flood her twice with no rubber, screaming his name like it was the only word she knew. The thought scorched her throat raw.

Marcus rose in one fluid motion. His hand slammed flat against the door right beside her head, the wood vibrating under his palm. He didn’t crowd her, but the raw heat pouring off his bare chest made sweat prickle down her spine anyway.

“Stop,”

he said, voice gravel-rough and steady. “I didn’t know at the bar. You were drenched and furious and walked straight up to me begging to be fucked right. I only pieced it together when you whispered his name against my chest last night, half-asleep and still leaking my cum. And I still wanted you right here.”

Her fingers stayed locked around the handle, knuckles white. “You should have told me the second you figured it out.”

“I wanted you to stay because you chose it, not because I shoved the truth down your throat.”

His thumb dragged slowly across her jaw, tilting her face until their eyes locked.

“Tyler and I haven’t spoken in years. He torched every bridge I built. That’s his mess, not yours.”

She tried to twist away, but his other hand settled on her hip, fingers splaying wide, burning through the thin silk. The robe slid lower, cool air licking her nipples until they tightened into aching peaks. His gaze dropped, dark and hungry, tracing the way her breasts rose and fell.

“Tell me to leave again,” he murmured, lips brushing hers with every word, “and I will, but your cunt is already weeping for me.”

Heat flooded her folds, thick and slippery, trickling down her inner thigh.

Marcus leaned in, slow enough for her to stop him. She didn’t. His mouth crashed into hers—tongue plunging deep, tasting like whiskey and raw need. She rose on her toes, fingers clawing into his shoulders, his damp hair still cool from the shower and smelling of cedar and smoke.

He backed her against the same wide window. Icy glass shocked her spine. Below, the city blurred in silver streaks of rain that pounded like a second heartbeat. He hooked one finger in the robe’s belt and yanked. Silk pooled at her feet with a whisper.

Marcus dropped to his knees.

No teasing. His mouth latched onto her instantly, tongue dragging a hot, wet stripe from her dripping entrance all the way up to her swollen clit. He groaned deep in his throat at her taste, the sound vibrating straight through her core.

Two thick fingers slammed inside her soaked pussy, curling hard against that spongy spot that made her hips buck. Her slick gushed around his knuckles, obscene squelching noises filling the suite as he pumped faster, sucking her clit between his lips like he was starving.

Lila slapped both palms against the glass, the other hand fisting his hair so tight her knuckles ached. Her thighs shook violently around his ears.

“Marcus…..”

He sucked harder, tongue flicking lightning-fast, fingers stretching her wider. The pressure coiled so tight her vision sparkled white. Right when the edge rushed up, he ripped his mouth away, lips glossy and swollen with her juices.

She whimpered, hips chasing him desperately, empty and throbbing.

He stood, spun her around so her tits smashed flat against the freezing pane, nipples scraping the glass with every breath. The city stretched endlessly beneath her. His cock,thick, veined, the head slick and angry red—nudged her dripping entrance.

“Want me to stop, baby girl?” His breath scorched her ear, one hand braced beside her head on the glass, the other gripping her hip hard enough to leave fingerprints.

“Say it and I pull out right now, leave you aching and empty.”

“No,” she gasped, pushing back against him, desperate, greedy. “Don’t you fucking stop. Please.”

He slammed in with one brutal thrust, stretching her wide, burying every thick inch until his hips met her ass. She cried out, the burn and the fullness so intense her toes curled off the floor. He held still for one heartbeat, letting her feel every pulsing vein, every twitch inside her, then started moving—slow, dragging pulls out until just the fat head teased her entrance, then slamming back in so hard her whole body jolted and her slick splattered down her thighs.

Wet skin slapped wet skin in a filthy rhythm. Her cream coated his cock, dripping in sticky strands every time he withdrew. She watched their reflection in the rain-streaked glass: her mouth wide open, mascara streaked, breasts bouncing against the pane; his jaw locked, silver threads in his dark hair gleaming as he pounded into her like he was trying to brand her soul.

His hand snaked around, fingers slick with her juices, finding her swollen clit and rubbing fast, slippery circles. “Scream my name, Lila. Let the whole fucking city hear who’s owning this greedy little cunt.”

She shattered. “Marcus!” The scream tore out of her raw, echoing off the glass as her walls clamped down around him in violent pulses, milking him, gushing fresh slick down his balls. Pleasure ripped through her so hard her knees gave out.

Marcus growled low, hips snapping faster, the wet sounds turning growing on and on. He buried himself to the hilt and came with a guttural groan, hot jets flooding her deep—thick, endless spurts that overflowed and ran down her thighs in warm rivulets. He kept grinding slowly, pushing every drop inside her while she trembled and clenched around him.

They stayed locked together, sweat-slick skin sticking, rain still hammering the window like applause. He kissed the back of her neck, soft and reverent now, his breath hot against her damp skin.

After a minute he eased out, turned her gently, and scooped her up. He carried her to the bed, laid her down, and crawled in beside her, pulling her against his chest.

Lila’s fingers traced lazy circles on his chest when her phone exploded with buzz after buzz on the nightstand. She reached over, heart already racing from the aftershocks still pulsing between her thighs.

The screen lit up with Tyler’s name.

She tapped the latest message.

I’m in the lobby. Security won’t let me up. Who the hell are you with at my father’s hotel? Get down here NOW!