A Welcome in Pink and Black
# The Invitation Chloe stood at the kitchen island, her heartbeat a frantic drum against her ribs. The sound of Alex tinkering in the garage was a distant comfort, a normalcy about to be shattered in the most delicious way. She adjusted th
Chapter 1
Chloe stood at the kitchen island, her heartbeat a frantic drum against her ribs. The sound of Alex tinkering in the garage was a distant comfort, a normalcy about to be shattered in the most delicious way. She adjusted the thin straps of her pink bikini top, the fabric straining slightly against her full curves. The matching bottom hugged the generous swell of her ass, a fact she was keenly aware of as she peered out the window toward the street.
Five-inch black heels made her calves ache beautifully, adding a precarious, thrilling edge to her stance.
Her phone buzzed on the quartz countertop.
**Marcus:** *On my way. Door unlocked?*
A shiver, hot and liquid, traced her spine. She typed a single word.
**Chloe:** *Yes.*
***
Marcus’s presence filled the foyer before he’d even fully stepped inside. He was even taller than she remembered from the office charity gala, his shoulders broad beneath a simple black t-shirt, his dark skin glowing in the afternoon light slanting through the door. His gaze traveled over her, from the perilous heels, up her legs, lingering on the pink triangle of her bikini bottom, before finally meeting her eyes. A slow, confident smile spread across his face.
“Hey, Chloe,” he said, his voice a low rumble. He pushed the door closed softly behind him. The click of the latch was deafening.
“Hey,” she breathed out, suddenly aware of the dampness between her thighs, the way the air crackled between them. “Alex’s… in the garage. Working on his bike.”
Marcus took a step closer. The scent of him—clean soap and warm male skin—washed over her. “And you’re here. In a very distracting outfit.”
She didn’t step back. Instead, she tilted her chin up, a playful challenge in her eyes that belied the tremor in her hands. “I thought we could… talk about the PTA fundraiser.”
He chuckled, the sound rich and intimate. His hand came up, a single finger tracing the line of her jaw. “Liar.” His touch burned. “You didn’t invite me here to talk.”
Her breath hitched. The obstacle wasn’t Alex’s proximity—it was the raw, hungry leap from the fantasy in her mind to the reality of Marcus’s thumb now stroking her lower lip. The tension wasn’t in the risk of getting caught; it was in the terrifying, exquisite surrender to the want coiling deep in her belly, to the image of his powerful body moving over hers, behind hers.
His eyes dropped to her mouth. “What do you want, Chloe?”
The words left her in a husky whisper, all pretense gone. “I want you to fuck me.”
Chapter 2
Her words hung in the air, a raw, delicious permission. Marcus’s smile turned predatory. His hands slid to her waist, his thumbs hooking into the thin strings of her bikini bottom.
“Good girl,” he rumbled.
Chloe’s fingers flew to the button of his jeans. The denim was strained tight over the hard ridge of his cock. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she fumbled with the metal button. The first pop of it freeing sent a jolt through her.
Just as she tugged at the zipper, a shrill, familiar ringtone shattered the moment. Her phone lit up on the counter, Alex’s smiling face flashing on the screen.
Panic and a twisted thrill twisted in her gut. She looked up at Marcus, her eyes wide. “Answer it,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with need. “Tell him you’re here helping me with something while he’s out.”
Marcus held her gaze, his own dark with arousal, and scooped up the phone. He swiped to answer, putting it on speaker. “Hey, Alex.”
“Marcus? Hey man, what’s up?” Alex’s cheerful voice filled the kitchen, accompanied by the faint whir of a power tool in the background.
“Just stopped by. Chloe needed a hand moving some patio furniture. The big umbrella was stuck.” Marcus’s voice was calm, effortless. His free hand came up and cupped Chloe’s breast through her bikini top, his thumb circling her nipple.
Chloe bit her lip to stifle a moan.
“Oh, perfect! Thanks, dude. Tell her I’ll be another twenty minutes, gotta tighten this chain.”
“Will do,” Marcus said, his eyes locked on Chloe’s. He ended the call and dropped the phone back on the counter with a soft clatter.
The silence after was heavier, charged. “He’s busy,” Marcus said.
He didn’t wait. He pushed her gently, turning her around to face the counter. The cold quartz met her belly as he leaned over her, his powerful body caging her in. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her back against him. She felt the hard, insistent length of him, still confined by his jeans, press into the cleft of her ass.
“You love this, don’t you?” he growled into her ear, one hand sliding down over the curve of her ass, squeezing possessively. “Your husband’s friend, fucking you in your own kitchen while he’s just out there.”
“Yes,” she gasped, pushing back against him, the five-inch heels making her arch perfectly.
His fingers found the tie of her bikini bottom and pulled. The knot gave way. The scrap of pink fabric fell to the floor. Cool air kissed her bare skin, followed instantly by the heat of his palm as he smoothed it over her shaved pussy.
“So wet for me already,” he muttered, his fingers slipping easily through her slickness. “You’ve been thinking about this all day.”
“God, yes,” Chloe panted, bracing herself on the counter. His finger pushed inside her, and her head dropped forward. “Please, Marcus.”
He unzipped his jeans with his free hand. The sound was obscenely loud. He freed his thick, dark cock, guiding it to her soaked entrance. He rubbed the head through her folds, coating himself in her arousal, teasing them both.
“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, his voice rough.
“I want you to fuck me,” she begged, looking back over her shoulder. “Pound me from behind. Right now.”
Chapter 3
His laugh was a dark, guttural sound against the shell of her ear. “Since you asked so nice.”
In one powerful, fluid motion, he spun her around. The world tilted, the overhead lights blurring into a halo as her back met the cold quartz of the countertop. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, her five-inch heels digging into the small of his back, locking him to her. He gripped her hips, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh of her beautiful round ass, and drove into her with a deep, claiming thrust that stole her breath.
“Oh, God, yes!” Chloe cried out, her head falling back.
Marcus’s dark skin was already glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, the cords of his neck taut with effort. He set a relentless, pounding rhythm, each penetration sending a shockwave of pure pleasure through her core. The counter rattled softly with their motion, a frantic percussion beneath her moans.
“That’s it,” he growled, his eyes burning into hers. “Take all of it. Your pretty PTA mouth screaming while your husband’s in the garage.”
“Fuck me harder,” she begged, her body arching off the counter to meet each powerful stroke. Her hands scrambled for purchase, nails scraping against his sweat-slicked shoulders. “Don’t stop! Please, Marcus, don’t you dare stop!”
“You feel that?” he grunted, his pace becoming brutal, unforgiving. “That’s your married pussy gripping my black cock like it’s its last meal. You love being this kind of slut for me, don’t you?”
“Yes!” she sobbed, the admission torn from her. The obscenity of his words, mixed with the exquisite friction, was pushing her toward a dizzying edge. “I’m your slut! Just fuck me!”
His rhythm faltered for a split second, a telltale tightening in his jaw. He was close. “You want me to fill you up?” he rasped, his thrusts becoming shorter, harder, more focused. “You want my cum in this greedy little cunt?”
“Yes! Give it to me!” Chloe screamed, her own climax detonating at his filthy promise. White-hot pleasure shattered through her, her inner muscles clenching around him in violent, pulsing waves. Her cry was muffled against his shoulder as she bit down to keep from screaming the house down.
That was all it took. With a ragged groan, Marcus buried himself to the hilt, his big body shuddering as he emptied himself inside her in hot, endless pulses. He held himself there, pressed deep, as the last of her tremors subsided.
For a long moment, the only sounds were their ragged breaths and the distant, harmless whir of a power tool from the garage. Slowly, he softened inside her, but didn’t pull out. He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the counter on either side of her head, and captured her lips in a slow, deep, claiming kiss. It was tender, at odds with the savage fucking they’d just shared.
When he finally broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers, his voice a low, satisfied rumble. “Twenty minutes is up.”