Little Fury: Book 1 of The deadly Little Thing Trilogy
Little Fury: Chapter 22

Marcus gets out quickly walking around to my side. He opens my door, taking my hand to help me out. Opening the door to the house we step inside. Having left some lights on, the house has a warm glow. I walk across the great room to the wall of sliding glass. I slide the curtains, unlock the doors and open them. They fold into themselves and disappear into the wall at each end. I close the rest of the curtains, letting the wind blow them. Music plays, and “Slip” by Elliot Moss echo’s off of the surfaces.

I walk to where Marcus is standing by the fireplace, holding a scotch for me.

“Thank you,” I say as I take a sip.

He nods at me, watching my throat as I swallow. Setting his glass on the mantle, he pushes off the wall and stalks towards me. I turn just before he reaches me and walk towards the dining room. He catches me, putting his hands on the table, caging me in. I feel his breath on my shoulder and the heat radiating from his body.

He isn’t touching me anywhere, but I feel him everywhere.

“Ava, tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m scared.”

“Why?”

“What if we fuck it all up, Marcus?”

“What if we don’t?” His mouth presses against my shoulder, his teeth lightly grazing it.

“You are my best friend. I can’t lose you.”

He runs a hand up my arm, hooking his thumb under my chin and tipping my head to the left. “Ava, tell me to stop, and I stop. We go back to being best friends like nothing happened,” he says against my neck, his breath making my skin tingle.

He starts a slow and teasing countdown. “Five. Tell me to stop, Ava,” he says. I say nothing.

“Four.” He pulls me closer, and I feel his hard chest against my back. His tongue traces a path along my shoulder, and he blows on it, sending a shiver through me.

“Three. I hear your breaths coming in faster. If I ran my hand up your inner thighs, would I be rewarded with feeling your wetness there?” A wave of arousal rushes through me at his words.

“Two.” He says as he drags his hand along my thigh up towards my core.

“Fuuuck, Ava, is this all for me?” He breathes against my back as he drags his up higher.

“One. Now or never, Little Fury. If you don’t tell me to stop, I’m going to bury my cock in your sweet cunt and make you cry out my name.” He pulls me into him and pushes against my ass, and I can feel how hard he is.

“Yes,” I breathe out. “Yes.”

“Finally,” he growls, gripping my hip and turning me to face him as he claims my mouth for the first time.

In the years of our friendship, I have been on the receiving end of his anger, hurt, humour, and indifference. I have witnessed this man murder, maim and hurt others just to hurt them. I have felt and witnessed it all and participated in most of it, but I have never been on the receiving end of this. This claiming, this want and need, this tangible desire he has for me.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue replaceing mine. I moan when I feel his tongue against mine. It feels almost forbidden to me, the intimacy of it all. I open my mouth and give him more of me. Wanting to feel him take more of me. His hand snakes into my hair, gripping it tight, holding me in place.

My knees grow weak with every stroke of his tongue. His want of me makes my core clench and my wetness pool. The sounds coming from him as he claims my mouth for his own are feral. His hand tightens in my hair, eliciting a moan from me at the sting. My moan snaps the last bit of control he had. He runs his hand freely over me sending currents of electricity throughout my body.

He pulls his mouth from mine, making me whimper with its loss. Moving to my neck, biting and nipping my skin. Each one sending another rush of heat to my belly; his fingers glide over my shoulder, dragging the straps of my dress down with them. His mouth follows the dress as it slides down my body. The cool air on my breasts, and then his hand running lightly over them, causes my nipples to harden.

“So, fucking perfect,” he says, teasing my nipple with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth, his tongue playing with it. I hiss at the sharp sting of his teeth. That beautiful twinge of pain delivers another rush of heat to my pussy. He releases my nipple and kisses across my chest to trap my other one in his mouth; I let out a shuddering breath when he bites down, soothing the sting with his tongue. I try to reach up and touch him, but my dress traps my arms.

“Marcus, I want to touch you.”

“Not yet, Ava. I’ve been waiting to touch, to taste you for years, so I think I’ll take my fill first.” His tone is very matter of fact.

Years? He’s wanted me for years.

He feels my body stiffen, feels my breathing change. “Where did you go, Ava?”

“Years?” I whisper.

He looks at me carefully considering his next words. He takes the slightest step back from me, and I see the hesitation that wasn’t there a moment ago. I pull my dress back up, waiting for him to speak.

He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “Yes, Ava, years.”

He sounds exasperated, like I’m the only one who didn’t know this.

“But? I, I, what?” I stammer, trying to wrap my head around this revelation.

He runs his hand through his hair, mussing his perfectly messy look.

“Best friends, Marcus,” I say quietly, my brain working fast to process and remember what it missed.

“You are my best friend, Ava. You have been since I was seven, and I arrived at Harry’s and met you. You shook my hand and then offered me a fucking squirrel.”

“Mr. Waffle,” I correct him.

“Offered me Mr. Waffle. You were mine.”

Mine? His?

“But you didn’t tell me.”

“Why did you think none of the guys asked you out in school or the town? They all knew you were mine, so they stayed away.”

“But I dated guys, Marcus. I dated Finn for like six months.”

“Yeah,” Marcus says, running his hand over his face. “That guy wouldn’t listen to me. We got into two fights over you, but that asshole would not give up. So, when he finally got you to say yes, I knew I couldn’t stop it without hurting you, so I let it be. I even tried to get Harry or Sebastian to interfere and run him off, but neither felt it was necessary. Those six months were some of the shittiest of my life. Every time you went on another date, it made me crazy.”

I think back to the six months I dated Finn. Looking back, Marcus was quiet and never came with Finn and me to parties or anything we asked him to do with us. Finn was my first everything: date, boyfriend, kiss, and I lost my virginity to him. And then it hit me.

“Oh, fucking hell! Marcus! You were my best friend, and I didn’t know. Why did you let me tell you all that stuff? I told you when I lost my virginity!”

Darkness flashes across his eyes at the mention of my lost virginity. “Because, Ava, you’re my best friend, and I’m yours, and I never wanted to be a reason you didn’t smile.”

“When I went out with Tommy?”

He grabs the back of his neck, looking down to the floor. “Yeah, that was not a good look on me. Tommy knew how I felt about you. We were friends for a while. But he still pursued you. I fucking hate that guy.”

I feel my heart ache for him. I think of all the pain I must have caused him, but he still just took it. “The fight a few months ago? That was because I went out with Tommy?”

“Yeah. I was so fucking mad that when we got in the ring, I just lost it. When I threw you to the mat, and you lost your breath, I knew I needed to step back. But then you took off your t-shirt, and I saw the marks he had left on you from the night before and, well, you know the rest–you were there.” I don’t say anything to him. I don’t know what to say.

“Ava, I was so far out of line. But I couldn’t stop myself. You hurt me, and I wanted to hurt you back.”

“It’s done. We’re past it.”

He’s standing there looking at me like I have the power to shatter him. I walk towards him, his eyes tracking my every step. I step into his body and look up at him. He bows his head to look down at me. Reaching up I touch his face, this beautiful boy who grew up into this spectacular man who looks at me like I am his only purpose in life. He leans into my hand, and his eyes close. I run my other hand up under his shirt, over his abs, stopping over his heart.

I feel it’s beat against my palm, strong and steady. His skin is molten against my own. I keep my eyes on him as I close the space between our lips and kiss him. I kiss him; I ghost my lips over his and feel his lips part a fraction, surprised at my touch—that tiny intake of breath at his shock. I kiss him harder. He doesn’t fight me for control of the kiss. He lets me lead it and allows me to explore as I want.

I open my mouth to him, and he does the same. My fingers move into his hair as I pull him on harder to me. Still, he lets me drive the kiss. The kiss is deep and slow, his hands still at his side like he’s afraid to touch me, worried he will spook me or wake up and realize this isn’t real.

My tongue gently invades his mouth, just enough to replace his. The choked noise he makes at the caress of my tongue is the only warning I get. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me into him and I snake mine around his neck. His tongue delves into my mouth.

There is no catching our breath, no gentle touches, nothing slow and tender. Our mouths are fused as our kiss becomes greedy and possessive. Marcus’s hands replace the straps of my dress and pulls them down over my shoulders, letting my dress slide off my body and pool on the floor at my feet. I grab the bottom of his shirt, working it up, needing to have it off him, needing to feel his skin against mine.

Marcus breaks the kiss for a moment. His hand reaches behind his head as he pulls his shirt off in one smooth motion. Dropping it on the floor with my dress. His hand slides over my jaw, landing in the hair at the nape of my neck as he buries his fingers into it. His other one grips my ass, squeezing it before dragging his hand and fingers along it between my cheeks. Finding the waistband of my underwear, gripping it and tugging it down my body.

My hands go to the button on his shorts, undoing it, sliding my hands in, pushing his shorts and underwear down together. He growls low in his chest as I wrap my hand around his shaft, he hisses against my mouth as I tighten my hand around giving him a slow pump.

“Ava.” He chokes out my name as I work my hand down and back up his cock, repeatedly, my pace painfully slow. I tighten my grip on him “fuck” he grounds out. Both his hands grip my ass, hoisting me up, I wrap my legs around his waist. Our mouths replace each other again, hard and fast. Marcus carries me a few steps back to the table, setting my ass on it.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to take my time with you, but I can’t; I need to be in you, Ava.” He says raggedly against my lips, lining himself up with my entrance and driving into me in one hard thrust.

“A-Ah,” I rasp out, my breath stolen with that one thrust. My head drops back as he enters me; the slight sting does nothing but unleash something carnal in me. His hand replaces my throat and grips it, keeping me sitting up as he drives into me. I place my hands behind me on the table to meet his punishing pace. Marcus looks down between us, watching our bodies as he pushes in and out of me. His hand tightened around my throat with a primal need as he watches himself disappear into my body.

His pace slows with each thrust his hand leaves my hip and goes between us, spreading me with his fingers, mesmerized, watching himself fuck into me. The sight starts to unravel him, his motions becoming less controlled. His eyes close tight, as he stops moving inside me, pulling me closer to him and kissing me again; this kiss is slow and tender, with a reverence in it. I move my hips slowly, coaxing him to do the same.

“Ava, if you keep moving, I am going to cum.” He pants out at me.

“Then make me come with you,” I tell him, my voice ragged. He looks at me for a moment like he has no idea what I’m saying, and then a devilish smile passes over his beautiful face. He pulls out of me and drops to his knees his fingers still spreading me as his tongue delves in and out of my entrance before licking up my pussy and claiming my clit with his mouth. He sucks and licks my orgasm already so close. He drags his teeth over the sensitive bud, and my pussy clenches, and my body tightens as I come.

My orgasm is still rolling over me as he gets to his feet and drives himself back into me. He pounds in and out of me as he chases his own orgasm. He starts to thrust erratically into me, and I know he’s close. He reaches between us and strokes my clit, pressing down on it, causing another orgasm to roll over me before the first one completely subsided. I clench around him and he lets out a strained curse as he cums in me. His last few thrusts are deep in me as he rides the last of his pleasure out.

Panting, he grabs my face and drags it to his own and kisses me. Kisses me gently, so beautifully. Kissing my lips gently, he pulls back and stares at me, looking at me like I’m the reason he breathes. He’s looking into my eyes, searching for something.

I just see him.

I see my best friend.

I feel his cum sliding down my thighs and the magnitude of what we just did overwhelms my brain.

He watches it happen, watches the fear start to corrupt what we just shared, and sees the words run through my mind.

What we were yesterday, we will never be it again.

“No! Don’t you fucking dare. This is a good thing. We didn’t fuck anything up. It’s you and me, just like always. None of that has changed.” His eyes are desperately searching mine. I know what he’s looking for. I also know he isn’t going to see it. At least not in the way he feels it for me. I can see the pain in his eyes. He takes a steading breath. “Ava, this changes nothing. We are still us. We are still going to finish what we’ve started, none of that has changed.”

“Marcus, how does this not change anything?” I plead, looking at him to fix it somehow.

“Because we don’t let it. Ava, I love you. I have loved you since I was seven years old. I’ve been in love with you for almost as long. This here tonight is everything I’ve ever wanted. To have you like this. To know you’re mine in every way. Please, baby, don’t let your big brain take this from us. Don’t think about the odds or any of that shit. Just look at me. See me.” He takes my hand and places it on his chest, and I can feel his heart beating there. “That’s for you. My heart is yours, and it always has been.”

I look up at him, as the first tear slip past my lashes. “I’m scared, Marcus. You are all I have. Having you with me for my entire life is why I’ve done all of it. Because I knew I would have you beside me for the good and the bad. But sex, sex always complicates things, and I CANNOT lose you.”

He wipes my tears away, kissing my cheeks, eyes, lips, and forehead. “Ava, we can do this. We can do it because we will always have our friendship to fall back on as a solid base. Nothing can tear that down.”

I look at him, seeing the certainty in his eyes. I look at my hand on his chest, feeling it in the steady beat of his heart. I feel the truth in his words that he loves me. And I do love this man. I decided to love him when I offered Mr. Waffle all those years ago. Whatever comes now, whatever becomes of us, I’ll know that this was the moment I made the choice. I chose to give him everything I could give him. His heart beating under my palm, promising me so much.

You may not be in love with him like he is with you, but you love him enough to give him all the rest.

I school my features, removing any uncertainty I feel so he can’t see it there. I never want him to see it there. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats, that one word filled with relief.