CHAPTER:16

Back at Marshall's penthouse apartment, Elara takes off her shoes at the doorway, letting out a sigh. The day has been tiring. Going down to the police station and filing a complaint, just like her previous ones. Elara doesn't know what to make of all this. She's used to it by now, her stalker's daily antics have become a part of her daily life.

"What are you thinking about?"-Marshalls gruff voice breaking her out of her daze.

"Huh? No… nothing." -Elara replies absentmindedly, she walks past him. Her eyes fixed on him, as he sits leisurely on the couch. Marshall leans his head back on the couch, closing his eyes.

"You mind asking me things?" -Marshall says, not opening his eyes.

"What kind of things?"

"About your stalker."

"What about my stalker?" -Elara stares at him. Wondering what Marshall is thinking about,.. this situation.

"When did it start, Elara? And why… no I mean, how, has he still not been caught? Surely a stalker can't be this stealthy?" -Marshall's piercing gaze never leaving Elara's face. He seems to be studying her.

Elara sighs. "Did you eat? Would you like me to make you something quickly?"  -She asks, her voice soft and sweet.

"Changing the subject won't do you any good, Elara." -Marshall interjects. Watching Elara walk around in the kitchen. He hears her sighing to herself.

"I'll make you something to eat. We can talk about it later." - she says rigidly. 

And Marshall has no choice but to nod in response. 

. . . 

After dinner, Elara had gone back to her room. As if, avoiding Marshall's questions about her stalker. But Marshall is one stubborn man as well. 

She had gotten done with taking a shower and entered her bedroom. Wearing a light-pink satin nightgown. 

Showing off her sylphlike shoulders, with the thin straps holding on the nightgown. White ribbons on the back, showing off her pale skin. Her slim body on display. And her long, brown hair reaching down to her waist. In the dimly - lit room, with her slight wet hair, Elara looks like a goddess come down to earth, showered as if in rain.

And Marshall was clearly not expecting this. He had comfortably sunk in the chair, waiting for her to get done with showering. He wanted... No, he NEEDED to know more about her stalker. But right now, he stares at Elara, his mouth slightly agape. At a loss of words. 

Elara is like the epitome of beauty. She's feminine, petite and dainty. She's like an angel walking on earth, like a porcelain doll come to life. Her innocence, naivety and fragility makes her so desirable.~

And its not like Elara is too short either. She's 5'7. (Marshall is 6'4. So no wonder, she looks tiny in front of him.) 

"What're you doing in my bedroom?' -She asks softly, staring at him. 

"I- uh- uhm.." -Marshall clears his throat, trying to form words. Anything at all. But he's too awestruck by her beauty. By his wife's beauty. 

Elara stares at him, watching him fumble and struggle with his own words. She raises an eyebrow in confusion. "Is everything okay, Marshall?"

He nods his head vigorously, quickly standing up from the chair. He think of where to go. Should he leave? I mean after all, having an angel-like wife, forget Marshall, anyone would have a hard time keeping their hands to themselves. He's thinking hard on what to do.

After a moment, he takes in a deep breath and speaks; "Elara, I asked you a question in the car, you never responded to it." -His voice deep and raspy. He takes a few steps closer to her, which causes her to take few steps back. 

"What question?" -Elara queries about, her voice soft. Marshall continues to move closer to her. Elara does the same. Taking steps back with each step Marshall takes to get closer to her.

Inevitably, she's now pinned against the wall. He stands so close to her, so close that she can smell his cologne's scent. Elara feels her heartbeat starting to run wild. The close proximity making her feel so many things.

She continues to look up at him. Her neck slightly craned up to meet his eyes. Elara takes this moment to study his face.

And Marshall looks perfectly ethereal. He's much taller than Elara. Their height difference being significant and very noticeable. His veins showing themselves off, as he has her pinned against the wall. He looks like a Greek god. Amazingly sharp jawline and his gray stubble showing off, making him look elegant and refined.

"You know, the question I asked you in the car. " -He repeats, grinning. Marshall leans even closer to her, his hot breath against her ear as he whispers; "Would you like to entertain the idea of another kiss from your husband?" -he asks, sounding a little gruff.

Elara's heart almost jumps out of her chest. "Stop trying to pull my leg, Marshall."

But, for some reason, Elara wants that. Just looking up at him, she feels hot.

"I'm not, dear wife." His words are a low rumble on her cheek, as his other hand slides down her neck to her collarbone, removing her hair from her neck. Elara doesn't resist, nor does she stop him.

Marshall's hands begins to move down, from her collarbone, to right over her chest. He hesitates, he doesn't want his hands to travel any further down. Not now, at least. He looks into Elara's eyes, and groans softly.

"Fucking hell." -He mumbles, and before Elara can react, their lips meet in a passionate kiss.

He wraps his arm around her waist and draws her closer. Their breath becomes slow. And heartbeats become faster and more intense. Their lips caress each other. Marshall's kisses become more passionate, deep and intense. All his desires, his lust, his passion, it all flows into these kisses.

Elara closes her eyes, her hands resting on his chest. And her tongue inviting him, as her mouth opens slightly. Accepting the invitation, Marshall's tongue entwines with hers. His kisses become even deeper. His hands caress her neck, her back and her waist.

His lips don't leave hers. Marshall continues to taste her, craving her like one craves air.

Marshall suddenly lifts Elara up in his arms. He grabs her by the hips, giving them a light squeeze. Elara is surprised, to say the least. Her face is already flushed red. He looks at her, with his lips still so close to her face.

"You're so light, so soft." -He whispers, sounding gruff. His eyes studying her red face. Seeing her so red, blushing. Seeing her so feminine, vulnerable and submissive at the same time fills him with desire. 

Marshall's hands tighten, his grip on Elara's hips become stronger as he walks towards the bed. He gently puts Elara on the bed, laying her down.

"You're like a bunny." -He whispers, getting on top of her. His rough and calloused hands being gentle and soft with her. Caressing her neck. His hands finally begin to travel slightly lower. He looks at Elara for her approval. She somehow manages to nod her head. Her breath sounding ragged, soft and quick.

Marshall lets out a low grumble, his eyes still on her. His stare is filled with lust, love and affection. He doesn't think twice, he wants her. Now.

He moves his lips to her collarbone, placing soft kisses all over. His hands slowly moving over her breasts. His mind is filled with thoughts of love and desire… of pure unbridled passion and lust. Marshall kisses her on the lips again, getting more and more intense. His hands wander over Elara's smaller body. Touching her everywhere as he claims her fully.

"My bunny." -He whispers, slightly aggressively. His voice is soft, but completely dominant. Marshall looks down at her, as he stops kissing her. "You're my woman. And I promise to protect you, no matter what. Mine to protect, mine to have. Mine to care for and mine to own."

Elara feels herself getting more aroused, just by his deep voice, his commanding presence. And Marshall notices her turning redder. Almost like a tomato. He chuckles softly and leans in closer again. "My wife." 

With her eyes closed, Elara begins to feel as if there's a fire igniting in her body. His touch igniting pleasure throughout her entire body. As his hand slowly travels inside her nightgown, she shivers at his touch on her bare skin. A soft moan escaping her lips. This seems to turn Marshall on, even more. 

His lips working their way on her neck, and so does his hands on her nightgown. His mouth sucking on the flesh of her neck. Sucking, nibbling, licking and lightly biting on the skin. Elara's moans getting slightly louder. Her hands balling the bedsheets into her fists, gripping them tightly for support. it seems Marshall has no plans of stopping anytime soon. Not that she wants him to stop either. She feels good, he feels good too. And its evident on their faces.

!!*Ring Ring* *Ring Ring*!! 

"Bloody hell.' -he mumbles, taking out his prone from his pocket, and aiming to throw it away, as to not disturb their peace. But he stops midways his eyes slightly widening.

""W-Who is it?" -Elara manages to whisper.

Marshall looks down to her and finally says;

"The same unknown number from earlier."