*Just wanted to say thanks to all the people out there that actually liked these characters. Sorry for taking so long with another chapter but thanks for the kind words. Sorry for the mistakes. I'm only human, at least I think I am. :) *
It had been two weeks since Marcus and I began a relationship. It had been two glorious, sometimes maddening weeks. He took his role as daddy extremely serious and while I did the same, there are certain days that I wished we could be just another couple.
Our days usually began with him sliding from my bed, climbing into the shower, and then a few kisses before he made it out the door. He would be gone all day and just when I thought I would have to go to bed without him, he'd let himself in. Most nights we made love, and if we didn't, we always tried to. Sometimes he was just too tired.
We always meet at my apartment. At first, I thought it was simply because Marcus didn't want to share me with the world around him. I felt, FEEL, cherished and yet in the last few days, I've began to wonder. What if he was just using me, what if I'm not as irresistible as he seemed to make out?
Nagging doubts fluttered around the back of my head as I sat in front of the TV late one night. Marcus had yet to put in an appearance, dinner lying forgotten on the table, long gone cold. The apartment felt cold, yet the thermostat read a toasty 70 degrees. I soon got tired of being useless and abandoned the TV to pace the apartment.
Millions of scenarios flitted through my mind. He was never this late. It was almost 1 in the morning. I knew I should have gone to bed a while ago, but I kept thinking any minute he would walk through the door. He'd take one look at me and know I was severely pissed. He'd smile that smile, assuming correctly that all he needed to do was kiss me a few times and everything would be copasetic. But as 2am rolled around and still he didn't appear I began to worry. What if he'd been in an accident on the way home? The hospitals wouldn't call a girlfriend and if Marcus was...oh, god...unconscious, he wouldn't be able to have them let me know.
My hand quickly snatched up the phone and just as I'd been doing for the last two hours, I dialed Marcus's cell phone number.
Ringing once, twice, three times his voice mail kicked in.
"This is Detective Marcus Jackson and I'm unable to take your call. If this is an emergency, hang up and dial 9-1-1. Otherwise leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks." The phone paused and then the beep sounded.
"Uh, Daddy, Marcus, please, PLEASE call me when you get this message or any of the other 100 messages I've left you. I'm beginning to get scared and if you don't call me or show up in the next 10 minutes, I'm going to start calling the hospitals. Uh, so please just give me a call."
I clicked the phone off and dropped it onto the couch. This was driving me crazy. What could be wrong with him that he couldn't take my calls?
Just then a thought bounced into my head. What if he'd been shot? Images of death and destruction filled my head as I quickly scrambled for the handset again. This time I punched the numbers to the local hospital.
When the call was answered I quickly asked if a Detective Jackson had been admitted. A few minutes passed as the receptionist went to work.
"No, ma'am, we haven't received a person with that name," she informed me, and at once I was able to breathe again.
Giving the woman my thanks, I ended the call. I sat undecided for some time. What if he'd simply been so tired he'd gone back to his house? But I pushed that thought away immediately. He WOULD have called in that case. There had to another reason.
I quickly grabbed the yellow pages from beneath the telephone stand and began to gather the numbers for all the hospitals in a 20 mile radius. I started from the top of the list and 15 minutes later I at least was able to say he wasn't in the hospital.
Not really knowing what else to do, I called Marcus' precinct.
"9th precinct, this is Sergeant Koslov speaking. Can I help you?" A voice growled from the other end of the line.
"Yes, I need to speak to Detective Marcus Jackson. He's with Internet Crimes..."
I think
, I thought suddenly.
"He's already left for the night, miss. Those guys tend to keep banker's hours," Koslov grumbled.
"Oh, okay. Do you happen to know if he just left or...," I asked leaving the sentence unfinished.
"Now that I can't be one hundred percent sure of. I got here about 11 and I think he had already left by then," came his gruff reply.
"Oh, okay," I said hesitantly.
"Is there anyone else who can help you?"
"No...no, I just had a quick question for him. I'll try to catch up with him some other time."
I clicked the phone off and let it drop listlessly from my fingers. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was nearing 3 am and still no Marcus.
Suddenly a thought popped into my head and I jerked forward on the couch.
He'd blown me off. My breath whooshed from my lungs as the idea formed. He wasn't lying dead in a ditch somewhere. He had simply had enough of me and decided to move on with his life.
Sure, he's given no hints that he was getting bored with me, but everyone knows men are fickle creatures. He'd simply didn't have the balls to tell me he's had enough.
Even as the anger came, so did the pain which was greater than any I'd ever felt. Tears streamed down my face as I remembered his whispered words from the morning. "I hate getting out of this warm bed and leaving you in it all alone. But knowing you'll be in it when I get home, makes the day go by so much faster."
He'd climbed back on the bed and we'd kissed until I was begging him to love me. He'd stopped, barely, and said I'd have to wait until he got home.
I heard his words in my head and I cried harder. Before long though, I was out of tears. Pulling myself to my feet, I shuffled around my apartment, readying for bed. He wasn't coming so I might as well go to bed, I thought. I checked the locks and turned down the lights.
I walked slowly to my bed and climbed in. His scent rose form the pillow beside me and once again, tears came. I pulled the pillow close to my face and breathed deep. I curled into the fetal position with the pillow still pressed to my face. After what seemed like hours, I finally was able to slip into sleep.
When I opened my eyes I knew I was dreaming. The body behind me was warm, the hands wrapped snuggly around my waist, and a leg inserted between mine. Hot breath stirred the hair at my temple and pressed against my ass was a hard spike. It was how I awoke every morning and yet today was different. I knew this was a dream and that Marcus wasn't really here. He was a figment of my imagination, a cruel manifestation of my body's remembrance of him.
I pressed myself back against him, glorying in the feel of his hard body against mine. I could never get over the differences in our bodies. His body was hard all over, a body built in the early years in the military. He'd told me that he'd simply gotten into the habit after he'd left the Marines of working out. It helped him relax from a hard day. I didn't mind, hell I loved the results so if he wanted to get buff, more power to him.
I glanced at the arm securing my waist and the difference continued. His skin was a dusty gold, a trait he'd inherited from his grandmother, who was Italian. My skin was a white almost transparent from my Scottish relatives centuries past. The first few nights with Marcus, he'd been so worried that he'd bruise me and while I did, I didn't care. I loved the marks he placed on my body and so did he.
I pressed my ass against him again, wanting just a few more minutes with him before the dream ended. I heard him groan in his sleep and I knew it wouldn't be long before he was awake.
His hands had already began their journey along the lines of my body. His left hand had attached itself to my breast, needling it, sending arrows of pleasure coursing through my body. His right hand slid gently down my side, over my hips and around my belly to slide between my already spread thighs. I arched into him, pushing his hand deeper into my pussy.
"Mmmm, someone must have been dreaming naughty, huh?" I heard his sleep-filled voice mutter.
You have no idea, my subconscious broadcasted. This is by far one of the most vivid dreams I'd ever had. I could even smell my own arousal in this one. He pressed a kiss to the pulse behind my ear and I moaned loudly.
"Please," I begged, unsure of what I was asking.
My hips were gliding back and forth against him. I couldn't stop myself from arching my body into his. It was amazing how even though it had only been two weeks, he already knew just where to touch me.
His voice interrupted my thoughts. "How is it that you can make me feel this way? I look at you and I instantly get hard. I think you have bespelled me, little witch. Thoughts of you interrupt my work, making me crazy. I think of you and all I want to do it run home, throw you up against the nearest wall, and fuck you hard. Yet even after we fuck, the wanting doesn't go away. It subsides for a while but never goes completely away."
"You make it sound like it's a bad thing," I said, voice husky with desire.
"Not bad, but I really do sometimes wonder at the hold you have on me. It was like that from the first. You looked at me with those big green eyes of yours and that was all she wrote. I knew then that I had to have you, bedamned what anyone else wanted."
"I remember. You looked at me as if you wanted to fuck me right there," I said, moaning at the thought. It was a fantasy that I had thought of many times and Marcus had even expressed thoughts about it.
"You would love that wouldn't you, little one? Daddy fucking you while someone watched. Your pussy gets so wet when we talk about it. Would it be a woman or a man?"
His words were taking me so close to the edge, I could barely think. "I would want it to be a man, Daddy. I wouldn't want you to get any ideas about hooking up with another woman." My insecurities slipped out then and Marcus was quick to placate me. "I wouldn't want anyone but you. Truthfully, I don't think I could get it up for anyone else but you."
Those words were music to my ears. Sure I was dreaming but I mean, if you're gonna dream, dream big, right? Yes, I knew I was setting myself up for heartache later but this is my dream. I can dream what I want to.
Marcus continued. "I wouldn't mind having some guy watch me slam my cock into your pussy, but I WOULD NEVER want him to touch you. I am not going to share you, no matter what. This is mine," his hand going to cup my pussy, "no one is getting it, ever."
His hand pressed against my mound, sending pleasure through me like lightening. He whispered in my ear, "I know you want to cum, so go ahead. Daddy wants you nice and juicy when he slides in. He doesn't want worry about hurting you today."
"You never hurt me, Daddy," I rushed to reassure him.
"Well, Daddy is afraid he might today. He wants his Kitten so bad he's not sure he can stop himself. So I want that pussy of mine nice and lubed so I can't hurt it."
Marcus slid one of his fingers inside me, creating a joyful sensation in me. I couldn't wait until it was his cock inside my cunt. I wanted him so bad, more than I've ever wanted anyone. Sometimes the level of want scares me but today I didn't care. I had one last time with him and I was taking every second from this so I could remember it when I awoke.
His index finger pressed gently against my clit and I almost came up off the bed. "You love that don't you, little girl?" he taunted. "I get you so ready. I could have you whenever I wanted and you wouldn't be able to say no, would you?"
