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mark·ing n. 1. a. A making or giving of a mark. b. A mark or marks made.
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Erotica
Expected Publication Date: May 27, 2014
The day Maya Owens walked into his tattoo shop, everything Talan knew changed. After officially starting a relationship, he has trouble managing Maya—a woman who consumes every part of his being and now owns his heart. His need to control her and everything around her drives Maya insane, but he has good reason. After all, Janice is still lurking around and she has a vendetta against his Bitty. In no time, Talan wants more, and it’s faster than Maya can handle, and things begin to get complicated.
Months of frustration and want take them for a ride neither wanted, but now yearn for. Will they make it through the turbulence? And if so, at what cost?
“What are we doing here?” Maya asked when we pulled up to my shop.
This date was about remembering our first meeting, for her to see how I truly felt.
Taking her face in my hands, I caressed her cheek with the tip of my fingers and leaned forward to ghost my lips over hers.
“Where did we meet, Maya?” I asked, then waited for her reaction. She didn’t disappoint.
A small smile overtook her face. “Here.”
“So where else would I want our first date to be?”
Maya giggled, confusing me. “This isn’t our first date, Talan.”
“No? Are you sure?” She nodded, still laughing at my confused state. “I don’t remember taking you—”
“Shush,” Maya placed her finger over my lips, “our first date happened right here a few months back. The same night we discussed your tattoos.”
“But you said . . .” I trailed off; this having a woman shit was confusing.
“I know what I said, Talan.” She sounded exasperated and all traces of humor left her features. “I asked to date, to make us official.”
“Why didn’t you just say so?” I grumbled while rubbing my temples.
“I did; you just heard what you wanted.” Bitty raised an eyebrow at me. “Now, feed me.”
“You drive me insane.” If I didn’t care for this woman, I would strangle her.
My words were met with another raised brow and a saucy smirk. “Then I’m doing something right.”
I laughed at her reply. What could I say to argue that logic? She had every right to act cocky at the moment. Bitty had me by the balls and knew it.
“Stay.” Turning off the engine of my truck, I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car. Maya stayed inside, waiting on me. “Ready?”
I unbuckled her seatbelt, grabbed her by the waist, and helped her down. Her small frame slithered down my body, rubbing against my hardened c*ck.
“For you? Since we met.”
“Behave.” My warning was met with defiance.
Maya’s hands grabbed onto the front of my pants. She pulled me forward; my erect shaft nestled between our bodies, pushing against her stomach. “Feed me.”
“Hungry?” I grunted when her right hand dipped inside my waistband.
“Commando?” She moaned, ignoring my question. Maya ran the tip of her fingers around the slit, rubbing the liquid there over my swollen head. I shivered while watching, mesmerized, as she brought the glistening digits toward her lips and sucked.
“Maya, please. Let’s go eat. You have to be starving.”
“I am,” she whimpered, as my flavor danced over her tongue. Maya winked at me then shimmied once more against me. The head of my c*ck—now purple and swollen—peeked out from the waistband, searching for her touch.
“Quit f*cking around, Bitty.” Growling under my breath, I tucked my d*ck back into my pants, much to her disappointment. It’d been torture not taking her, but it was getting worse than before. We were both so close to that moment and we knew it. “I ordered in.”
“Warned you; I’m hungry.” She ignored my statement and instead pulled me down to her level. Her eyes shone with emotion, deep and as pure as she was. “Don’t care about food.” Maya bit my lip, hard. “Feed me.”
“F*ck.” She killed my will, my need to show her I wanted more from her than just the sweet pussy between her thighs.
“First, food, and then for dessert, I’ll give you my cock,” I whispered—more a plea than a bargain—against her lips. She bit down once more and backed away, leaving my lip bruised and tingling.
“Tempting.” Bitty stepped back. “Convince me.”
“Okay.” I took a step forward and backed her into my truck, my fingers tangling in her hair. She opened her mouth to speak, but my finger over those succulent lips silenced her. “Quiet.”
Maya whined against my hold. My hips kept her in place, taunting her, I ground my hardened length against her.
“We’re going to enter my shop and enjoy all the hard work I’ve put into this date. Nod if you understand.” She did. “I want to enjoy you.” Bitty moaned at this, and swiveled her hips into me. “Feed you. Don’t take that away from me.” At those last words, a soft expression overtook her face and she stilled in my arms.
She sighed. “You win.”
“What was that?” I asked needing to hear her say it again.
“You win.” Maya smiled and pushed me back with a gentle shove. “I want it all. You, me, and this date . . . the small talk and flirting. Maybe even another orgasm at the end of the night?” She was too cute when showing her neediness.
“No more harassing me?” I gave her a playful smile.
“For now.” She winked then pushed me toward the front doors of my shop.
“Stop.” I turned to face her. Maya’s look was confused, but her confusion turned into that burning need I loved when she realized what I’d pulled from my pockets. “Turn around,” I demanded and she complied.
She did. No questions, just obedience. I could get used to that.
“I’m going to cover your eyes.” My words were met with a needy whimper. Maya pressed her body closer to mine. The heat coming off her skin seared me.
“How do you expect me to behave if—”
“Quiet. Not a word,” I whispered into her ear and laid a small kiss on her neck. “Just enjoy.” The small blindfold I’d pulled from my pocket dangled from my finger. Her eyes followed its movement.
I wanted her to see the words etched onto the silk fabric, the ones I’d chosen just for her: Marked.
It said everything I felt. Every one of my pores, every cell in my body wore her stamp—her mark. Now, she would wear mine.
Elena M. Reyes was born and raised in Miami Florida. She is the epitome of a Floridian and if she could live in her beloved flip-flops, she would. As a small child, she was always intrigued with all forms of art—whether it was dancing to island rhythms, or painting with any medium she could get her hands on. Her first taste of writing came to her during her fifth grade year when her class was prompted to participate in the D. A. R. E. Program and write an essay on what they’d learned. Her passion for reading over the years has amassed her with hours of pleasure. It wasn’t until she stumbled upon fanfiction that her thirst to write overtook her world. She now resides in Central Florida with her husband and son, spending all her down time letting her creativity flow and letting her characters grow.
Elana M. Reyes
Not Everyone’s Mama