HUSH HUSH, Mark Sloan

𝟎𝟏𝟗, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥

Mark walked into the kitchen. He saw Bree standing there. He knew how her hormones had been all over. And he had loved it. Mark walked over to Bree. He turned her to him, lifting her up by the back of her thighs when her arms wrapped around his neck and set her on the counter.

His lips found hers as she settled back on her elbows, traveling to her neck as his fingers bunched the scrap of material she'd donned as a shirt above her breast.

She felt his tongue tease her puckered peaks, lightly trailing over them enticing small hitches in her breathing.

His hand ventured lower, slowly circling her clit with each pass he made along her slit. His mouth engulfed her nipple, softly sucking as two fingers slid into her.

Bree's hand instinctively nestled in his hair, watching both his mouth and fingers at work. The visual along with his ministrations had her breathing labored and her hips grinding against his hand long before his thumb pressed against her clit.

His eyes shifting to meet hers sent her over the edge, her moan stifled by his lips covering hers again.

Her hand tugged at his hair when his fingers curled inside her, coaxing everything he could from her climax before gently easing her back down.

Bree's chest was still heaving when he pulled her to her feet, spinning her so she faced away from him.

"Bend over the counter."

Her lip twitched at the fact that he hadn't asked, merely maneuvered her where he'd wanted her. She knew the outfit would lead to sex, his domineering side was a pleasant little bonus.

His thighs tickled the back of hers as she rested her elbows on the granite surface.

A hand quickly pushed her so her chest was flat against the counter, the other moving to lift his shirt she was wearing high enough to grant him access.

Bree moaned as he filled her, lifting her slightly with each thrust.

"Fuck, Mark..." She grunted, her palms flat on the counter.

Mark pressed his lips to the area of her neck where it met her shoulder as his hands gripping over her shoulder, pulling her back to him with each thrust.

"Jesus." Bree panted. Her hands where white knuckling the edge of the counter as she gripped it to prevent her torso from sliding forward...

Her toes barely touched the ground as it was and his thrust only served to lift her higher.

He'd pull almost all of him out of her, then slam back inside, one hand pushing her ass down ensuring he bottomed out.

Her breath was staggered but she could still hear his grunts behind her.

"Fuck..." She groaned as her body jerked against his, giving into her release.

Mark's arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he pulled her away from the counter, forcing her to brace herself with one arm around the back of his neck.

"Jesus. Fuck... Mark... I can't..." She panted, her free hand digging into one of his arms.

"You can." He purred, failing to relent in the force with which he was shoving into her.

He was stronger than a first glance made him appear, though she knew this, and relaxed into his vigorous pace.

There wasn't any reason to tire herself more than necessary and he was right, she could keep going.

At this point, other than the slightly uncomfortable position and how sore she knew she'd feel the next day, he was doing all the work.

"I can stop if you need," he said. His hips continued to thrust, but his statement was prompted by how limp Bree had become in his arms.