Excerpt from Love's Taken Over



Hey all! 

It's been awhile since I shared an excerpt on here (I know I know, I need to do better, I've got to get a new computer).

I posted this teaser pic yesterday and decided to share the scene that inspired the pic. It's quite steamier than most of my excerpts. :-D Enjoy!
This is a scene from my upcoming book, Love's Taken Over, book two in my upcoming series In the Line of Love. 


Marcus had called to let Scarlette know that he was on his way to pick her up in the limousine he'd rented for them for the night and she head down to the lobby to wait for him.
The doorman was opening the door for Scarlette as the limo pulled up to the curb. The back door slung open and she watched as Marcus stepped out of the vehicle, one leg at a time. He stood and looked up at Scarlette with a smile of appreciation.
"Ready and gorgeous as usual," he said, holding his hand out to her. "Yet, you never let me come upstairs to pick you up for these things."
Scarlette smiled. "Why waste a trip upstairs? The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can get to the food," she teased with a wink, as she placed her hand in his. She tried to ignore the slow moving heat that made it's way through her body ending with a pulsing between her legs.
Marcus helped Scarlette into the limousine and she slid across the seat leaving a large space between them once he followed her in.
He closed the door and they were on their way.
"Why in the world are you sitting way over there?"
Scarlette looked up to see Marcus watching her intently.
A slow wolfish grin spread across his lips and she clenched her legs tighter together as the throb intensified. 
"I won't bite," he teased, showing his perfect teeth.
"I know firsthand that's a lie," Scarlette said, laughing.
"Oh really?" Marcus said, raising an eyebrow. 
Scarlette sobered quickly. She'd spoke without thinking.  Marcus crept closer toward her. He lifted his hand and traced a finger down her neck. "I'm guessing you had to cover up those passion marks I left on you for awhile."
Scarlette swallowed and watched as Marcus eyes dropped down to her full breast being accentuated by the tight bodice of her gown. 
"Only the visible ones," Scarlette retorted, trying to calm her pulse down.
"Hmmm," Marcus said, pensively. "I wonder..."
"What?" She wasn't sure if she really wanted to know what was on his mind.
"Did...Julian leave any marks on you?"
That was like a being doused in cold water. She recoiled from his touch and glared at him.
"Why in the hell would you ask me something like that?" she spat out.
Marcus, who seemed extremely calm shrugged his shoulders. "Just sizing up the competition."
"There is no competition between you and Julian," Scarlette insisted.
Marcus looked at her with a conceited look. "Oh I know there's no competition."
Scarlette shook her head. "That's not how I meant it, Marcus." She looked away from the intense stare he was giving her.
"We shouldn't be talking about this," Scarlette insisted.
"Why not? It's not like we haven't had conversations like this before," Marcus pointed out.
"True, but that was before..."
She tried to scoot away from him, but he just closed the distance between them. He reached around her, his arm brushing against her waist as he pushed the button to close the privacy window in the limo. When it was closed, Marcus stayed where he was, practically pinning himself against Scarlette.
"He didn't leave one single reminder of your night together on you?" he asked, looking up and down her body as if he were giving her a thorough inspection. Although she was full clothed, she felt completely naked under his scrutiny. 
"Not everyone is as voracious as you are," Scarlette said, her breath growing labored.
"That's a pity," Marcus said. "No wonder you ended the night early."
"If I recall, you ended your night early too."
"Do you want to know the real reason I ended it early?" Marcus asked.
Scarlette had a feeling she wouldn't like the answer, but she couldn't stop curiosity from running rampant. Marcus could see the question in her eyes so he answered. 
"The entire time I was with her, I was thinking of you."
Scarlette gasped and looked Marcus in the eyes. 
"I have a feeling that's why you couldn't enjoy yourself with the doctor either."
Scarlette shook her head, adamant to deny his accusations. "That's not–"
All of her breath, whooshed out of her lungs, as he felt his hand slid up her leg that was revealed by the high slit in her dress.
"Did he make your body come alive the way I did?" he whispered in her ear. His hand went higher until his fingers reached the line of her panties.
"Marc–"
"Did he strum your body like I did? Take you higher and higher, bring you to the edge then stop right before you came apart in his arms. Then do it all over again."
He pushed her panties to the side and slid his finger inside of her.
A moan slid from her lips through no volition of her own. He stroked her over and over, rubbing his thumb across her sensitive bulb at the same time. "Did he make you as wet as you are right now?"
Her mind was saying they needed to stop, but with one touch, her body was putty in his hands.
"Did he taste you Scar?" Marcus asked, gruffly. 
"What?" She'd gotten so lost in the sensations he was conjuring up inside of her, she barely heard his question. 
He grabbed the top of her panties in his hands. 
"Did. He. Taste. You?" he asked, as he slowly rolled down her panties. 
She should have been pissed off that he was asking her about her time with another man. But she knew what he was about to do and heaven help her she didn't want to stop him.
She shook her head, as her legs trembled with anticipation. "No," she rasped, "he didn't."
Marcus slid to his knees in front of her and spread her legs wide.
"Good," he said, triumphantly before she felt his tongue on her. Scarlette instantly bucked against his mouth as he began to feast on her. He lapped her up slowly at first, as if they had all of the time in the world; as if they weren't in the back of a limo and not on their way to a party. His hand went up from her thighs to her hips and he pulled her even further down on his mouth. 
"Marcus!" Scarlette cried out, as tension built up in her body, starting from where his mouth was connected to her, and shot out through every pore. He swirled his tongue and he picked up the pace, as if he just couldn't get enough of her.
Scarlette placed her hand on the back of his head as she felt a powerful orgasm rip through her. She no longer cared whether or not the driver could hear her moans of ecstasy, especially when he clamped his mouth around her core and sucked hard.
She thought she would pass out from the pleasure that nearly bordered on pain. As Scarlette came back down from her climax, Marcus slowed his ministrations, but never stopped. 
Finally, he pulled away and looked at her with a smile. 
"I bet the doctor never made you come like that."
Instantly, Scarlette was pissed. She shoved him out of the way and yanked her panties off of the floor.
"Scarlette?"
"Don't," she said, as she shimmied back into her panties. "Just don't."
She rolled the partition down. "Driver. Pull over please."
"Scarlette, what are you doing?" Marcus asked, as he sat back on the seat.
"I'm getting out," she said, as the limo pulled to the side and came to a stop.
"What the hell do you mean you're getting out?"
Scarlette opened the door and got out of the limo, with Marcus on her heels.
"Scarlette, wait a minute."
"Taxi!" Scarlette shouted, with her hand up.
Marcus reached for her hand and Scarlette jumped back, holding up her dress.
"Don't touch me Marcus."
"You weren't saying that five minutes ago," he said.
"And I was a damn fool for not doing so," Scarlette said, walking to the cab that pulled up to them. She opened the door, but he slammed it shut.
"What is that suppose to mean?" Marucs demanded. 
"What just happened was nothing more than a pissing contest with someone who wasn't even relevant. It was just something for you to do to self-inflate your own damn ego. You didn't do it to satisfy me, you did it to satisfy yourself."
"Scarlette–"
Scarlette opened the door, and Marcus had to jump out of the way to keep from getting hit. 
"I'm going home," she said finally.
Before he had a chance to stop her, she climbed in the taxi and slammed the door shut.
When she got home, she got out of the dress, that she'd bought just for the party, and put on some pajamas. She went in her kitchen, grabbed her pint size carton of ice cream and spent the rest of the night on the couch, wondering how the hell things got so complicated.


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