“Why would I do that?” I ask slowly. I realize I’m tired, but he’s making zero sense to me.
At my question, he has that same awkward look he had earlier with Jake. “Er… I know how you feel about my… bed.” He releases a pained hiss before adding, “And fuck, I’m on the same page now. Until it can be replaced, we sleep in there,” he says, pointing toward the other room. “Just thought you might like some privacy first, that’s all.”
Could he be any more adorable? I nod and mumble my thanks before escaping to the bathroom so he won’t see my sappy expression. He seriously rocked my world in the stairwell, but I expected nothing less in that area. Yet what has transpired since is unexpected. Not only verbally laying claim to me but also being sweet and understanding. If this is the real Marco, then I’ve been a fool to hold out this long. I’ve undressed and am stepping into the shower when I see the faint pink prints on my ass. Oh my God. I asked—no—demanded he spank me. He was so shocked he almost dropped me. Where did that even come from? I was so caught up in the moment, so close to the most amazing orgasm ever, yet I needed a little push. A nudge to roar across the finish line. And seemingly from nowhere, I knew that was it. The only thing to catapult me into the great coital bliss. Boy, did it ever. He may think I’m a freak now, but the whole experience was strangely liberating. I gave myself over to another person, trusting them with not only my body but a big chunk of my heart as well. I can either have a panic attack and retreat or embrace it, knowing I may get hurt in the end. But at least I’ll be living my life.
I’m practically asleep on my feet when I tiptoe into the guestroom and pause next to the bed. Marco has left one lamp on, and that feels like an unspoken welcome of sorts. His eyes are closed, and I’m almost sure he’s asleep. A startled squeak leaves my mouth when he suddenly lifts the cover without a word, but I climb awkwardly in next to him. “Thanks,” I murmur. The need to fill the silence is too much. “Jake most certainly knew what we were… you know, doing. And poor Wade was under attack from an old lady and a blue poodle. Wait. Maybe it was a blue lady and a young poodle.” My brow furrows, and I try to remember the conversation. “Oh well, I’m not sure. But either way, he deserved it for teasing you about your stomach… issues.” I haven’t even asked how he’s feeling. Real nice, Nina. He spanks your ass, but you can’t be bothered to inquire about the state of his? So selfish. Way to worry about number one. My thoughts are interrupted when the bed begins shaking. Is he having a bad dream? Medical emergency? “Are you all right?” I ask, wishing he hadn’t turned the light off now. My hands move over his chest, before finding his face. His mouth definitely appears to be turned upward.
He hugs me tighter, and I return the embrace, still having no idea what is going on with him. “Belle?” He pauses until he hears me grunt a muffled response against his chest. “My ass is fine.” He lowers his hand and squeezes one of my cheeks before adding, “And I’m more than happy to focus on yours. You could say, it’s number one with me as well.”
My mind is buzzing in confusion. How? “Um… that’s good,” I mumble uncertainly. “Glad to hear we’re on the same page. I think.”
He chuckles once again, and I’m beginning to think he’s one of those people who gets silly when they’re tired. I wouldn’t have guessed it, but how well do you ever really know someone? “You realize you said all that about my ass—and yours—out loud, right? The part about being selfish and wondering about my ass health? Granted, it was a little muddled since you were speaking so fast, but I think I caught most of it. Fuck, I certainly hope so because it was hilarious.”
“Oh shit,” I moan in horror. Not again. “I’ve developed a bad habit of talking to myself since I work from home. With no co-workers, the only human interaction I get is with—me. Normally, that wouldn’t be a big deal, but I blurt things out at times without even knowing it. Like the time I thought to myself that my neighbor should burn the sweatpants she’s always wearing. Unfortunately, I thought it verbally while she was a few inches in front of me. Things became awkward between us after that. It had been a huge relief when she relocated to South Carolina with her job. Otherwise, I feared she’d have strangled me with those horrid, pink pants one night while I was sleeping.” Talk about dying an ugly death. He’s laughing hysterically again, and I inwardly groan, knowing I’ve shared something else without intending to. I dig my elbow in his ribs and enjoy his grunt of pain. “Oh, shut up already, Moretti.”
He pulls back for a moment, and I feel his eyes on me in the dark. “I’m just teasing you, Belle. It’s all a part of your beautifully quirky, sweet, and unique personality. There is absolutely nothing about you I’d change.” With impressive accuracy, his mouth lands on mine, and he kisses me leisurely, almost tenderly before moving onto his back and settling me in the crook of his arm. Marco, the snuggle bunny. Who’d have thunk it? I marvel at how perfectly we fit together. How easy this transition from kinda friends to lovers has been thus far. I know instinctively that it’s no accident. He’s made it this way. To get me out of my head and trust where he leads. If this is an example of what’s to come, then I couldn’t be happier.
I’ll look back in the days ahead and wonder if that one line jinxed everyone and everything around me.
8
Marco
I awake to a warm body in my arms and an ass pressed against my hard dick. Certainly not the worst way to begin a day, but haven’t I learned a lesson about letting women stay the night? That kind of shit leads to mixed signals and expectations—when all I really want is a little pussy to calm the beast within—or in this case, the one below. Well, too late now. Might as well get off before I get her out. I’ll even be a gentleman and wake her with a bang. I’m still half-asleep when I spread her legs and position her ankles over my shoulders. She’s yet to say anything. If not for her faint snores, I’d be checking her for signs of life. Wtf? She’s wearing panties, which is unusual. And they’re a little on the granny side, so I chalk up another oddity. Pity fuck? I disregard that notion immediately. I’ve never fucked anyone I wasn’t attracted to. It takes some work, but I remove her bad choice of underwear. When in doubt, ladies, go without.
The visibility isn’t that great, but my hand tells me the lawn hidden beneath the cotton wood-killers is nicely maintained. I sniff and growl approvingly. I ease her folds aside and take a long lick up her slit. Fuck yeah. I’m not one to brag, but if eating pussy were an Olympic sport, I’d take home the gold every fucking time. It doesn’t surprise me to hear her begin to moan, nor am I shocked when she buries a hand in my hair and yanks. I need to get that shit buzzed off. Fucking hurts. No, neither of these two things are unusual. But what does give me pause—no, freezes me in place—is when the woman attached to the pussy I’m enjoying croaks out, “Marco, that better be you down there.” Followed by, “Oh. My. GOD.”
Whoa, the fuck is going on? Then it all comes back to me. I suck her clit into my mouth as she impatiently pushes her hand against my skull. She responds in a mixture of gibberish and moans. Yeah, I know it’s a dick move considering I thought she was someone else only moments before, but I can’t resist. I’m in the mood to play. The more impatient her moans and movements become, the slower I go. This is my show, baby, so get used to it. The little minx actually tries to touch herself as I circle her clit but don’t directly touch it. No, no. Bad girls get punished, not rewarded. I’m half afraid she’ll snap my neck or choke me with her thighs in frustration. Death by an angry pussy. I can deal with it. “What do you want, Belle? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.” Some version at least.
“You… inside me,” she gasps as her hips lift, and her body shakes. Ohhh, great answer. Ask and you shall receive. I trail my index finger through her wetness and grin when her breath catches. I push the tip of it inside her pussy before pulling it out. Pretty sure I hear her teeth grinding, but she doesn’t say anything. I toss in a little distraction by pinching her clit between the fingers of my other hand before stealthily mov
ing to her lonely and no doubt virgin ass. I press my finger against the pucker gently but firmly. All movement stops, her body is taut and utterly still. She voices no objections and appears to be awaiting my next move. I pinch her clit harder, and she cries out just as I slide my finger in to the knuckle. “I… Marco, stop,” she says with uncertainty. I do as she asks, going no deeper. Yet I keep the pressure on her clit so she has no choice but to accept the sensations that stimulating both areas brings. She’s absolutely soaking wet now.
Her mind may be resisting, but her body is on board. Hell, that’s no different than most things in life. Even though I’m intent on teasing her, the decision to try something new is ultimately hers to make, and I’ll never force it on her. So—I wait. When she rocks her hips, forcing me deeper, I smile. “That’s my girl,” I say as I slip the rest of the way inside while continuing to work her pussy. She’s so responsive. So fucking perfect. My cock is as hard as nails, but I push the discomfort to the side to give her what she needs. When she’s close, I move away from her clit and push my finger into her pussy. She’s shaking so much now, I almost stop. But her moans cannot be mistaken for anything other than pleasure. She’ll kick my ass if I let off without giving her an orgasm. The sensation of fullness is too much for her to bear, and she explodes, screaming my name, along with Jesus, God, Mary, Joseph, and even Santa and his reindeer. She comes for a second time when she reaches Rudolph.
Understandable, he’s everyone’s favorite.
Then she collapses in a heap of heaving, satisfied, exhausted woman. But I’m not done with her yet. I’ve been good long enough. “Flip over onto your stomach, Belle.” She mutters something but does as I ask. If she’s expecting a backrub, she’s in for a surprise. I quickly grab a condom from the nightstand and roll it on before moving back to her. I plant a knee on either side of her hips before nudging her ass with my dick.
“Ain’t happening, buddy,” she tosses out, without raising her head. “Move on, nothing to see here.” I chuckle despite myself. Humor hasn’t been something that’s occurred during sex in the past, but I find it both sexy and endearing. And so very Belle. I pop first one cheek and then the other, enjoying the sight of my handprint on her white skin. She mumbles something else but doesn’t object. I nudge her legs apart enough to settle my cock at the entrance of her pussy, then grunt in bliss when I slide home easily. “Mmm,” she purrs. And God, that sound out of her mouth about me? About what I’m doing to her? Best fucking sound to hear. She’s so fucking perfect.
This position is impossibly deep and tight, which is why I love it. Also, the added visual of my dick disappearing between the cheeks of her ass is damn near euphoric. She tries to push back, but I place a hand on her shoulder to keep her immobile. That’s my Belle, always trying to top from the bottom. I’m sure I’ll hear plenty of complaints later, but her cries of pleasure tell the truth. I grit my teeth, feeling my balls tighten in an embarrassingly short amount of time. 2016 World Series. Cubs win in the seventh game. This position is far too tempting, so I pull out and grin at her howl of outrage. “Relax, sweetheart, you’ll get yours. Again.” She gives an inelegant snort that turns into a hiss as she lands on her back and I pull her legs around my hips. I place one hand under her neck and the other under her ass and I drive back into her. I don’t need to tell her to grip me tighter because her legs are damn near cutting me in two as she rides my cock. I usually prefer to avoid positions that are too intimate—and kissing is about as personal as you can get. But with her, I love sliding my tongue into her mouth as my cock mimics the movement in her pussy. I’m so fucking lost in her—at the moment, that crazy shit floats through my mind. Two hearts that beat as one. My other half. The fucking wind beneath my wings. Maybe I should go back to baseball stats. Less confusing and not as likely to make my dick go limp with all the sappy thoughts. We’re in the home stretch now, racing at a frantic pace toward oblivion. Then I go deeper, grinding against her clit, and that’s it. The sweet spot for both of us. I see stars. Go hot and cold, then back again within seconds. Feel my heart stop, then gallop damn near out of my chest.
“Marco,” she moans. “So good. God, make it stop.” Yeah, baby, good is an understatement. I aim to please. Wait, what? Stop?
I pull back so I can see her flushed face. Sweet Lord, she’s crying. Tears are rolling down her cheeks. The heady afterglow suffers a damn near fatal blow to the gut. Fuck, I hurt her. I thought she was with me.
Goddamn, fuck.
I freeze, having no idea what to do or how to handle something like this. I’ve never hurt a woman before, and this is my Belle. I begin to ease slowly from her body, trying desperately to be as gentle as I can. “I’m so sorry, baby,” I whisper. “What… where do you hurt? I’ll call the doc. We have a woman on the payroll who will be here in like thirty. Or if you’d rather go to the emergency room, we can do that. Yeah, you’re right, that’s what we need to do. Hang tight, I’ll have the car brought around.”
“Are you high?” she asks in a voice full of confusion. “Why would I need a doctor? Oh no, you meant for you, didn’t you? You’re probably really dehydrated after the stomach issue, and I’ve been relentless.” She shoves at my chest as she attempts to wiggle her way from under me. “I’ll call Jake. He can carry you.”
Now I’m the one who’s bewildered. “Belle, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Would you settle down before you hurt yourself?”
She pauses, putting a hand on my cheek. “You’re sick, honey. I didn’t mean to, but I’ve fucked you—too much. Now, you need medical attention.” She kisses my brow and again tries to get up. “You’re really going to have to release me, Marco.” When she presses her hand against my forehead as if checking me for a temperature, I get a strange lump in my throat. Hell, maybe I am sick. Out of all the women who’ve come and gone from my life—a few with the assistance of a restraining order—I’ve never had one who actually cared. I mean, there have been insane declarations of love and devotion, but not the kind Nina is showing me now. I’ve only gotten this from one woman, and she’s legally obligated to put up with my stubborn ass. I need to stop this—now. I can’t think straight when she’s like this.
“Belle,” I say in exasperation, “I’m fine. You’re the one I’m concerned about. You told me to make it stop or something. I assumed that indicated a problem. I was simply repeating what you said, that’s it. So how about we rewind, and you tell me exactly what made you say that?”
She wrinkles her nose in that adorable way that makes me want to fuck her—again. “I got nothing.” She finally shrugs. “Oh, wait.” She snaps her fingers. “I couldn’t stop my orgasm. And you kept on rubbing that one spot.” She reaches out and pats my hands as if to reassure me. “Don’t get me wrong, it felt good, but I thought I was going to pass out. I’ve never come more than four times… and that was on my own. You know, stroking, then using my rabbit, a combination of both, and the final that gets you back from the edge. Other than the first, that one is the most important, don’t you think? Otherwise, you’re still all strung out, which isn’t how you want to be after spending all that time getting off, know what I mean?” Fuck my life. Why must she overshare?
“Yeah, I get it.” I nod absently as I ponder which way I’ll fuck her next. It’s not a question of if because, thanks to her masturbation chat, it’s gotta happen before I leave this room. Since she loves giving orders when she’s horny, time for her to take the top spot.
I’m pulling her closer, and she’s giving me a look that’s both wary and turned on when someone nearby clears their throat. Our heads swivel as one, and I dive for the covers, doing my best to make myself decent. Unfortunately, my sudden movement topples Nina, who ends up naked and indignant in the floor. “Marco,” she cries out, then glances from our intruder to me with narrowed eyes. “Sorry,” she says, “we’re not auditioning for a threesome today. Kindly leave your key and a number where you can be reached in case of any STD updates in the future.”
My mother looks down at Nina before raising a brow in my direction. “At least this one has a sense of humor and the ability to form sentences consisting of more than three words. Bravo, my darling boy, you’re making progress.”
Nina appears to have forgotten that she’s still naked. Either that, or she’s trying to prove a point to the woman she believes to be a former lover. I hold the blanket over my lap and toss a nearby pillow to Nina. She’s going to want that soon. “Nina, this is my very rude mother, Angelica, who loves dropping in without warning. Mom, this is Nina Gavino, my… Belle.” That didn’t sound awkward at all. Nina squeaks, wrapping her arms around the pillow like a lifeline. Her face is so red, it looks as if she’ll burst into flames at any moment.
My mother is surprised by the surname. No, shocked might be a better word. She’s friendly with several of the Gavino wives, but she’s very much a woman of the old mafia. Being cordial is one thing, but having your only son fuck the enemy is another. I’m going to catch hell over this. I love my mother—I absolutely worship her. She’s a scary mix of angel and demon. She bows to no one, and that includes the men in our family. She’s also probably the shrewdest person I know, other than my father. She walks over to Nina and extends a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Nina. I’ve heard of you, of course. I met your mother a few times through the years.” She places her other hand over their clasped ones before adding, “She was a beautiful person, and I mourned her passing along with many others.”
“Th—thank you, Mrs. Moretti,” Nina says thickly, obviously still affected by the loss of her mother.
“Tsk, please call me Angelica, my dear. We don’t stand on formality. You may not be a Moretti, but the Gavinos have been close allies for many years. And now with the loss of Franklin and your stepbrother, so much tragedy for one so young to bear.”
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