“Angelina, all that happened before there was an ‘us.’ Suffice it to say there were those two other times, but neither of us needs to give a blow-by-blow about past relationships.”
Angelina got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom without a word.
Marc ran his fingers through his hair. Shit, he’d handled that all wrong. The drive back to Denver was going to be a long one.
Why was hearing the details so important to her? What was he missing?
Chapter Six
“What the fuck happened while I was in South Dakota?”
A week later, Marc looked over at Adam who had dragged him out of the living room where Damián and Marisol were watching a princess something-or-other movie and into Marc’s den. He could hear the girls in the kitchen working on dinner and laughing. Well, Karla and Savi were laughing. He didn’t hear much laughter from Angelina. She’d been subdued since they had returned from Aspen.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean besides the fact I came home to find out I’m the grandfather of an eight-year-old.” The man had a sappy grin on his face. Apparently becoming a father and a grandfather the same year met with Top’s approval. But he wasn’t as pleased with Marc. “The tension between you and Angelina is thick enough to cut with a Bowie. You getting ready to run again?”
Marc walked over to the bar to pour another glass of wine. Adam’s bottle of water was still half full. “Again?”
“Doc, remember you’ve told me about your little history of running when a woman gets too close, if you let one close at all, which is pretty damned rare for you. Closest one I’ve seen before Angelina was Pamela more than a year ago.”
“That was different. She was looking for something I couldn’t give her.” When Pamela had said she’d wanted a Total Power Exchange as a Master/slave, he’d definitely run—run like hell.
“You and Angelina are good for each other, but tonight there’s been a wedge the size of Mount Evans between you. You barely even make eye contact. What the fuck happened since my wedding?”
Marc took a gulp of wine. “Nothing. We’ve just got a lot hitting us right now. She still hasn’t been able to find a job. Family stuff. And this business of someone trying to hurt Savi and Marisol has us both concerned.”
“Aren’t we all? We’ve got Damián’s apartment under surveillance twenty-four/seven.”
Thankfully Marc had managed to divert Adam’s attention from his and Angelina’s problems. Marc didn’t want to talk about what was going on in his own life with Adam.
Angelina definitely wasn’t going to let him ignore the situation the way he wanted to, though. She kept trying to get him to talk about what had happened New Year’s weekend, and Marc had managed to distract her with a play scene or sex most of those times, but last night she’d walked out of the bedroom and told him she’d be back when he decided to talk. She hadn’t said a whole lot to him all day. Big surprise. But this dinner had been planned for days, and he couldn’t very well tell his friends not to come over.
“Don’t fuck it up. You need that girl, whether you realize it yet or not. I nearly lost Karla because my head was too far up my ass. I don’t want to watch you screw the—”
“Dinner is served!” They turned to find Angelina standing in the doorway, glancing from Adam to Marc, resting her gaze on him a moment longer and giving him a tentative smile.
Walking over to her, Marc bent to give her a peck on the cheek. “Grazie, amore.” He placed an arm around her shoulders, feeling grounded with her soft body next to his, and led the way to the dining room where a feast had been spread out on the table. Angelina made this monstrous house a home.
Adam was right, as usual. Marc had better not screw this up. He just didn’t have a clue what the fuck his problem was lately. Why was he lashing out at Angelina? She wasn’t the reason for him feeling …unsettled.
An hour later, Marc watched as Adam placed his hand around the back of Karla’s neck and fingered the filigreed necklace she’d been wearing since the couple had returned from their honeymoon. Clearly she’d been collared. Karla looked at Adam, and the heat arcing between them was palpable.
Marc wanted to have Angelina look at him like that again.
Angelina served Marisol a homemade cannoli covered with powdered sugar. Seated beside Marisol, Savi focused her attention on her daughter. He’d noticed throughout the dinner that Savi seemed intimidated by Adam and rarely made eye contact with him. The man was daunting until you realized he was more bark than bite—well, mostly. Savi really didn’t interact much with Damián, either. Must be hard to form a family after being apart since their child’s conception.
The thought that he might have other parents out in the world somewhere made him wonder what they were like. Why they hadn’t been able to—or wanted to—keep and raise him.
Stop thinking that way. I am not adopted.
People comparing them often remarked that Marc had his mother’s forehead and chin. Not as conclusive as DNA but close enough for him. And no one could deny that he and Gino were brothers or that Sandro and Carmella bore a striking resemblance to him.
Marc’s gaze locked with Angelina’s for a moment, and she gave him a smile that warmed a place around his heart that had grown cold again recently. Perhaps tonight they could spend some time in the playroom before they went to bed. He might let her think he planned an impact session, but he was more in the mood to hear her giggle. Definitely some sensation play was in order for his ticklish girl. He loved planning scenes for her as he continued with her training. At least when they were playing, they didn’t have to deal with anything he’d rather avoid.
Karla rested her head on Adam’s shoulder and smiled sleepily. Adam kissed the top of her head, placed his napkin on the table, and announced as he stood to pull Karla’s chair out, “We’re heading home. Still haven’t caught up on our sleep from the honeymoon trip.”
Somehow Marc doubted either had sleep on their minds, but his words sent everyone into a flurry of clearing the table, followed by cleaning up the kitchen. Soon, the house was quiet again. Marc walked over to Angelina as she closed the dishwasher, and he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.
“Another fabulous meal. Thank you for all your hard work.”
She turned and looked up at him, smiling. “You know I love to cook. If I can’t do it for strangers in a restaurant, then I’ll gladly invite our friends over every night and cook for them.”
“Don’t make that offer. We’ll never have any time to ourselves.”
She grew serious. “Marc, about last night…”
“Shhh.” Marc tilted her chin up and bent to capture her lips in a tame kiss, not wanting to go too far until he could get her up into the playroom. The last thing he wanted to do right now was talk.
The kiss quickly deepened, and his tongue slipped between her lips to take possession as he pressed her backside against the island counter, trapping her with his hips. His hand grazed her shoulder, and he felt the flesh rise as he skimmed his fingers down her bare arm until he cupped her breast. He twisted her nipple through her blouse, and she hissed drawing breath from his mouth to hers. His cock stirred.
Weeks ago, as a reminder of something he’d said to her when they’d met at daVinci’s bar in her hometown, he’d attached fuzzy handcuffs to a chain and placed them inside the drawer next to the stove. He slid the drawer open and retrieved them for the first time. Her body tensed at the sound of the chain. Marc smiled knowing she couldn’t see him as he fastened one of the cuffs around her wrist. He retreated a bit, wiping the smile off his face when he stared down at her.
Her pupils dilated with excitement. “I thought the chain and cuff were for when you wanted to force me to slave over this stove preparing the dishes Nonna taught me to cook.”
He grinned. “Sometimes slaving is more about eating than cooking.”
“I couldn’t touch another bite.” She scowled at him. “How can you be hungry after a
ll the food I put on the table tonight?”
“I haven’t had my dessert yet.”
“I distinctly remember watching you devour two cannoli.”
Marc’s hand roamed over her abdomen to the thigh-high skirt, and he tugged up the hem as his fingers pushed the triangle of the thong aside and delved into the cleft hiding her bare, wet pussy. She gasped as he stroked her clit and closed her eyes.
“With you, amore, I will never be satisfied. Hold onto me.”
She placed her hands on the tops of his shoulders, and he took the waistband of her thong down and shimmied it over her hips, thighs, and calves, letting it pool at her feet before wrapping his hands around her waist. In a quick movement, he lifted her onto the granite countertop. The chain clanked but didn’t stretch beyond its limits.
“Oh! I’m—”
She stopped before uttering the words he’d conditioned her to refrain from saying, whether about being too heavy or some other negative remark. Instead, she smiled. “I’m hungry, too, Marc, but we need to talk first. About last night—”
“No more talk. Lie back, and spread your legs.”
Her gaze grew steely for a moment and then drifted to his chest. She ignored his command as she nibbled on her plump lower lip.
“Marc, you keep diverting my attention from talking about—”
He leaned forward and took her earlobe between his teeth, biting hard enough to distract her once more. The hiss in her breath told him he wouldn’t have any trouble getting her to where he wanted her tonight. The last place that would be was to rehash what had happened in Aspen or talk about what he should do about it.
He whispered in her ear, “I said lie back. Spread your legs. Now.”
She groaned in frustration, but when she began to unbutton her blouse, he grew harder.
He waited until the last button had been undone and she started to remove it. “Leave the blouse. Lie back. Don’t make me tell you again.”
The catch in her throat nearly made him come undone. “Marc, you know I want my after-dessert, too. Just promise me we’ll talk later about—”
Marc growled. Her fingers stilled before she complied without further argument and leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows. Because the kitchen island had a serving bar for guests on the back side, her shoulder blades rested against the raised counter behind her. He couldn’t leave her pressed against the granite too long. Without hesitation, he took his thumbs and opened the outer lips of her pussy, staring for a moment at her tempting clit awaiting his teeth and tongue.
Bellissima.
He drew a ragged breath. Dio, he needed her. Like a starving man, he lowered his mouth to her waiting treasure. The musky scent that was Angelina’s essence reached him before his tongue lapped at her wet pussy.
Mine.
Never again would he share her with anyone. Thank God he’d come to his senses before he’d let things with Luke go too far. He tongued the side of her hood, and her hips jerked.
Marc pulled away. “Lie still, pet, and remain quiet. Remember your discipline.”
“Yes, Sir.” The breathy note in her voice made his cock strain against his pants. He wasn’t sure how long he could hold out. Plans to go up to the playroom with her were out the window. He could play with Angelina anywhere he wished, and right now, the kitchen seemed the perfect place. He lowered his head again and teased her clit outside its hood.
Her sharp intake of breath was all the encouragement he needed, and he flicked his tongue against her before he reached up and pinched her still-clothed nipple. No time to strip her now.
* * *
The abrasion of blouse and bra against her nipples sent a peculiar zing up Angelina’s chest to her chin. Feeling his tongue on her clit short-circuited her brain again. She knew they hadn’t resolved anything. Last night they hadn’t even slept in the same bed. He refused to talk with her about both Melissa and the possibility of his being adopted. Getting him to talk with his parents to find out the truth had been equally impossible.
Frustrating man. He’d been pulling away from her emotionally more each day, but in this moment, she’d settle for an explosive physical connection even if she never got him to confide his feelings to her.
They’d get over this bump in their relationship faster if he’d just open up to her more. Right now, though, she was the one opening up to him—physically, at least. The man had a way of getting her to forget everything when he was in Dom mode or when he was going down on her.
His tongue worked its magic, laving the sides of her hood, teasing her to the brink of an orgasm several times, but her mind kept drifting back to the issues facing them since Aspen. Of course, he was teasing her, too. Every time she thought she might come, he moved away from her clit to tongue her pussy hole, never letting her explode. His finger grazed her asshole, and she nearly catapulted off the counter. She loved when he touched her there. It had taken weeks of preparation to get her ready to take him anally the first time. Now it was one of her favorite positions.
“Stay here.”
As if she had a choice. She giggled and took a deep breath as she watched Marc walk into the hallway. He wouldn’t leave her alone and restrained more than a couple of minutes. Soon he returned with his toy bag slung over his shoulder and a sofa pillow under his arm. The man always saw to her comfort and must have known that the counter pressing against her shoulder blades was beginning to hurt, even though she hadn’t complained out loud. “Your ass is mine.”
“Yes, Sir, it is.” What was he planning? Impact play or—
“Turn over.”
Oh, yes! Please, please, please!
Marc placed the pillow on the counter behind her and helped her roll over into position, the juncture of her hips wrapped around the curved edge of the countertop.
“Hold on.”
She reached up and grabbed onto the bar shelf above the counter. He unzipped the bag, and she waited, wondering what he planned for her. She didn’t have long to wait.
Swat!
Impact play. Much as she loved the crop he was using, she’d hoped for something much more intimate. He continued to swat her several more times, though, and her mind began to drift into subspace. Yes. She needed this.
Cold lube trickled against her anus, and she jumped. Marc touched his finger against her asshole, and she pressed back against him, welcoming him inside. Yes! Another finger followed.
“So tight. It’s been a while since you’ve had a plug—or me—up there. Are you going to be ready for me tonight, pet?”
“Oh, yes, Sir. Please!” She didn’t attempt to hide the pleading in her voice and tried to relax her sphincter to show she wanted this. No, she needed him to fill her in this special way that no one else ever had. She needed to feel that connection to him again. To hear his groan when he entered her. His growl of release when he came.
Marc removed his fingers, and she heard him open a foil packet. Soon! She waited, her stomach in a knot of anticipation.
“Shit. Sorry that lube was so cold. I didn’t realize.”
He must have lubed the condom. “Don’t apologize, just—”
His cock pressed against her anus and all coherent thought left her. He pushed past the ring of resistance slowly, but the burning had barely begun when he rammed himself into her until his hips slapped against hers.
Angelina grunted. “Umph. Mio Dio!”
Marc’s groan told her he felt it, too. He’d never taken her so quickly this way. Maybe he needed this as much as she did. His hands stroked the sides of her ass while he waited for her to adjust to his size. When he began to pull out, she tried to hold him by tightening her ring of muscles but soon heard the sucking sound when the tip of his penis left her empty.
He reached under her and stroked her throbbing clit. “I’m not going to last long, pet. Prepare to come with me after the fourth stroke.”
Stroke of what? Her mind was still fuzzy from nearly entering subspace during the spanking. Marc groane
d as he thrust himself inside her asshole again.
Ah! Angelina counted. “One, Sir.”
Oh, thank God, her Marc was back again. They could talk later, but having him share himself this way was enough for now. His finger stroked her faster, and she clenched around his cock as he pulled completely out again. She loved the burning each time he rammed himself into her. Somehow her ass never seemed to get used to being breached this way. Each time was as intense as the first.
Again he rammed himself into her until they both groaned at the impact. “Two, Sir.”
She panted, not sure she could hold out for two more slow strokes of his penis.
“Do. Not.” He gasped for air, clearly as affected as she was. “Come. Yet.”
His hand shifted away from her clit, but he kept his penis buried to the hilt inside her. This would make it a little harder for her to come, which was good. She didn’t have permission to come yet. She wanted to please him more tonight than ever before.
Again he pulled out. It wouldn’t be long now. Please, God, let her come on command.
“Spread yourself wider for me.”
How much more open did he expect her to get? She spread her legs a little wider, and something hard and cold pressed against her pussy. Definitely not his finger or penis. Besides, he wouldn’t enter her pussy without changing the condom.
Bzzzz.
Oh, no! Not the vibe!
“This is the only way I’ll ever share my girl and her body, but it feels so good having this vibrating cock pressing against me through your pussy walls, both of us filling you, taking you where you need to go.”
His finger returned to her clit as he rammed himself inside her once more. Her body began to shake with the building orgasm.
“Auggghhhhhhh!” Wait for him! “Three, Sir.”
Only three. She wasn’t going to be able to hold out for him to come with her. Why didn’t he see he wasn’t playing fair? Frustration brought tears to her eyes. The vibe changed to a pulsating rhythm, and she gulped a lungful of air. Damn him and his remote. He was going to make her suffer before he let her come.
Somebody's Angel (#5 in a Military Romance / BDSM Romance series) (Rescue Me) Page 9