Friends

Chapter 41

A/N: Chapters 42-85 along with other exclusive scenes can be found on my Patreon!

Jasmines POV:

He lifts me off his lap like I weigh nothing, placing me gently back into the passenger seat.

And for a second—I'm stunned.

Not by the motion, but by the ease of it.

He didn't struggle. Didn't even strain. Just reached for me and moved me like I was light as air. Like I was his to handle.

I've never felt so small. So delicate.

And somehow... that doesn't scare me.

It turns me on.

Then—

I can't move.

He's pulling my hair and has me pinned to the seat. I feel the incredible sensations of his tongue tracing my neck, followed by the warm, possessive suction of his lips.

I whimper. Neck kisses have always been my weakness.

He loosens his grip on my hair, no longer holding me completely down. He guides me with his hand, still gently wrapped in my hair, until we're locking eyes—right over the gear shift.

"You can give me hickeys," I say.

"You sure? Aren't you going to be worried about what your classmates will say?"

"No," I breathe.

"You're the best, Jasmine," he says.

Hearing that—those words—it unlocks something in me I didn't even know existed. Praise. Real praise.

Kendrick used to call me good girl, sure—but it was empty. Performed. Something he said after taking what he wanted. He never meant it. Not really. He didn't care whether I felt safe or seen. He didn't care if it hurt—as long as it got him off.

But Marc?

Marc holds me like he could break me—and he knows it.

Every pull of my hair, every shift of his grip, is measured. Intentional. Just strong enough to make me feel claimed, never enough to make me feel afraid. Like his strength isn't something he uses to control me—it's something he offers. And he's always watching, always checking. Making sure it feels good. That I feel good.

It's not just hot. It's healing.

He grips my hair tighter, pulling me back against the headrest, and my breath catches—not from fear, but from the way my body lights up under his touch. Then he leans in again, lips pressing into the curve of my neck, and it's everything. The sensation of his mouth on my skin—warm, slow, present—is pure ecstasy.

He's gentle, but firm. Dominant, but never cruel. Just enough pressure to make my whole body hum.

I reach over with my left hand, feeling for his bulge—as if I'm reading braille. I finally find it and go to unzip his pants. He assists me, unbuckling his belt with the hand that's not pinning me down and guiding my hand to his erection.

It's even bigger than I remember. Was he not fully hard last time we made out?

He feels like he's the same length as Kendrick, but way thicker. I could wrap my hand around Kendrick's dick and still have room to spare—but with Marc, the tips of my nails barely touch.

I immediately start stroking him.

Then, suddenly, the hand that was pulling my hair slides around to my throat, and his other hand grabs mine—the one stroking him.