9
Marcus
It’s official.
I’m an animal when it comes to Emma.
We had s*x less than a half hour ago, yet as my hand glides over the smooth skin of her back, covering it with sunblock before we exit the car, all I can think about is how much I want to run my tongue up the indentation of her spine—and how much I love seeing the red, hickey-like marks on the junction between her neck and shoulder, where I sucked and nibbled on her tender flesh a little too hard last night.
It’s wrong, and completely Neanderthal of me, but I want everyone who looks at her at the beach today to know that she’s mine.
“Please don’t forget to spread it under the bikini straps and the waistband of the shorts,” she murmurs, glancing at me over her shoulder. Her gray eyes are bright in the sunlight pouring in thr
