“Blindfolded?”
“Not only blindfolded, but I’ll be blocking your sense of hearing, as well.”
Her breath hitched. Apparently, the idea of a public scene and escalated sensory deprivation excited her. Fascinating woman. She would certainly keep him on his toes planning innovative play scenes for decades to come.
If he should be so blessed.
Marc took the brush and ran it through her long, silky hair. Sometimes she would count the strokes—much as she would during a spanking—but today she seemed lost in the sensation. They hadn’t had sex since she’d moved back into the house, partly because of his recent ordeal and partly because he didn’t want things to become physical before they resolved some issues. They had continued to cuddle and he made sure her body’s needs were met.
Surprisingly, though, he’d found that touching her in non-sexual ways, even doing something as mundane as brushing her hair, only heightened his desire for her. He’d been working out in the weight room at the club. Soon he would stoke the fires again.
She pivoted and stilled his hand, still holding onto the towel that hid her body from him. “You have no idea how sensual it is to have someone mess with your hair.” He shrugged, but was surprised she’d felt something, too. When she reached for her makeup bag, he stayed her hand.
“No makeup. You’re beautiful without it.”
She quirked a brow, but he didn’t explain further. She never overdid her makeup, always using just enough to enhance her natural beauty. But she’d be sleeping in it tonight and wouldn’t appreciate the way her mascara would smear after having the blindfold on for so long. Besides, she was beautiful without it.
She rose and walked over to open the top drawer of the dresser. He’d made sure only her sexiest lingerie was there.
“You won’t be needing a bra or panties—just the garter belt and silk stockings.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “My, you’ve planned everything down to the last detail.”
“I’ve planned as far as I can without your input. The time will come during our date when you will have to determine how this scene ultimately plays out.”
She grinned. “Planning to push boundaries tonight?”
I’m definitely going to be pushing the boundaries for one of us.
Angelina smiled as she passed him on the way to the closet. When she opened the door, she stared before turning to him once more. “What happened to the rest of my clothes?”
“Oh, I sent them to the cleaners for you.”
“But they were already clean.”
He shrugged. “Scusa. My mistake.”
From the near-empty closet, she removed the red dress with the keyhole in the back that she’d worn at Rico’s bar the night she’d come back into his life—the first time.
“I’ve lost some weight. Do you think this will still look good on me?
Anything—or nothing at all—would enhance his girl’s beauty. “One way to find out.”
She smiled and carried the dress into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door. He watched her drop the towel, showing she still maintained the curves he loved. She’d shaved her mound for him. Soon he would reward her obedience.
With regret, he watched as she slipped the knit dress over her head, covering her sexy curves from view. After adjusting the skirt over her hips, she stepped back into the bedroom. Their gazes met before his broke away to roam slowly down her body, lingering at her bust and hips. When his gaze returned to her face with great reluctance, he grinned.
“Perfetto.”
“Why do I get the feeling you just undressed me with your eyes?”
He shrugged and grinned. “I am Italian. We know how to appreciate the female body.”
Angelina drew her brows together, but she smiled and continued to dress as instructed.
When he emptied her things out of the closet, he had made sure this was the only dress suitable for a romantic date. The rest of her clothes had been packed into one of the new pieces of luggage sitting in the back of Grant’s Jeep. She would be chauffeuring them partway today. Then, Gunnar Larson would take over, along with Patrick Gallagher, Adam’s brother. He hoped Patrick and Gunnar would be on time. At Damián’s wedding, Marc mentioned what he wanted to do, and Gunnar overheard him then offered to provide the couple with transportation. Adam immediately picked up his phone and called his brother to enlist his help. All their transportation needs had been arranged.
Ready, she walked across the room to stand before him and pivoted around to present her back to him. He couldn’t resist stroking her back through the sexy keyhole. She relaxed against his hand at first and then pressed her body against him.
“I love the gift of your sweet submission.”
“Are you sure we have to go out, Sir?” Her breathy voice made him hard.
Marc chuckled. “Yes, we most definitely must go out. I promised my girl a fine Italian dinner, and she’s not going to get it by my hand.”
“Oh, but your hands deliver decadent food for the soul, Sir.”
He placed a kiss at the side of her neck and smiled when she nearly came out of her skin. He loved her ticklishness. With reluctance, he lifted the sash and tied it snugly around her head.
Grabbing a white, lacy shawl from the closet, he wrapped it around her shoulders and placed a kiss on her neck. Her heavier coat was in the car, if needed.
“Trust me to protect you and keep you safe, pet?”
“You always have, Sir. You know I do.”
He found it hard to breathe for a moment and then picked up the headset from the dresser. She would wear this until they reached their table at the restaurant. He’d queued up Andrea Bocelli’s Romanza CD.
Perfetto.
“This will help me deliver my surprise to you. I like keeping you in suspense.”
“I hear anticipation is good for subbies.”
“It is, indeed.” He placed the noise-canceling headset over her ears. He’d already adjusted the volume to a comfortable level but loud enough for him to be certain she wouldn’t hear any noise from the outside.
Time for them to embark on this next phase in their lives. At least, he hoped that would be the end result tomorrow.
* * *
Angelina’s excitement grew as she tried to guess what Marc had planned. It seemed a little early to dress for dinner, but she obeyed, happy to have her Dom back.
Marc would never harm her, and she hoped he would continue to rely on her more each day to meet his needs, as well. Having him actually needing her physically and emotionally these last few weeks had cemented their relationship in many ways, building a stronger foundation than they’d had before.
But she needed to give Marc time. After so many people he should have been able to trust betrayed or abandoned him throughout his life, even though most had done so without intent or malice, it still was no small wonder the man had trust issues.
She hoped one day that wounded little boy’s spirit would heal and the man she loved so intensely would allow her into his life—and his heart. To trust her not to harm him would take time, perhaps a lifetime. Being a part of Marc’s life, however small a part she was, would be enough. For now. They were young. She hoped they would continue to have time on their side, but both had suffered great losses and knew how fragile life could be.
Connecting on an emotional level the way they had been lately gave her hope they could move forward and make a life together for themselves. She’d just need a lot of patience. He still had so much to sort out about his past, especially with his brother, Gino.
She could wait. They had decided to take things slowly this time around. They’d moved too quickly before and hadn’t taken time to build a strong enough foundation to be able to withstand the first major crisis to come their way.
Marc wrapped his arm around her back and guided her forward. When they reached what she assumed to be the stairs, he lifted her into his arms.
“I’m too heavy!
Put me down! I can walk if you’ll just lead me!”
She felt the rumble of his voice—or perhaps it was a growl—and he pinched her butt hard, indicating she was out of line. He’d just been through an ordeal that caused him to lose a lot of weight, not to mention put a dent in his stamina. She’d even been afraid to make love with him, wanting him to regain his strength first, and had said no every time he tried to initiate sex since they’d moved back to his house after the interrogation.
Angelina wrapped her arms around his neck, hoping to relieve some of her weight from his arms. Even though she’d lost fifteen pounds over the last few months, she still was no lightweight.
Of course, Marc had never complained about her weight. He even said he enjoyed her extra padding, especially on her hips when he was spanking her or holding onto her love handles while ramming his cock inside her from behind. Her pussy grew wet in anticipation of whatever he had planned. If he could carry her around like this, he damned well wasn’t going to break if she jumped his…bones later.
She giggled and nuzzled his neck. Marc’s distinctive scent—lemon, bergamot, and, well, Marc—made her hungry, but not for food.
So he’d planned dinner at a new Italian restaurant? It was only midafternoon. She wondered what the rush was all about. And what about afterward? Would there be a play scene in her future tonight? Heck, with the sensory deprivation she was under already, a play scene was indeed under way and her body was ready. This meal must just be a part of it. He loved to feed her, especially when she didn’t know what she’d be eating. He often said he was impressed by her ability to analyze the ingredients, usually naming the dish itself.
Marc put her on her feet again and ushered her into a vehicle. Definitely not the Porsche. Much higher and roomier. Rather than Marc getting behind the driver’s seat, he nudged her to scoot over and soon had her buckled in, pulling her against his body where she snuggled against his shoulder for the ride. The vibration of the engine and friction of their thighs touching each other as they set off toward the restaurant heightened her awareness of the hard body next to her.
Which restaurant had he chosen? She’d dined at practically every one in Denver and had even applied for a chef or sous chef position at most of the finer ones, especially the ones with unexciting menus.
Maybe God knew she wouldn’t be living in Denver for long, which is why she didn’t get any job offers. Soon she be back to the catering business in Aspen Corners, but Marc promised to finance a business manager for her so she could spend more time doing the part she loved—cooking!
The strains of Por Amor filtered into her consciousness. It was a personal favorite of Marc’s, and she listened closely to the lyrics, translating them to her native English as best she could.
For love,
have you ever done anything
only for love?
Have you ever defied the wind and
cried out,
divided the heart itself…
Oh, had she ever. Leaving Marc three months ago certainly had divided her heart. If he could shut her out of something as important as flying to Italy to meet his birth father, what else would he hide from her? If he couldn’t trust her eventually, there could be no long-term future for them. Angelina had always been honest with and faithful to Marc. Perhaps in time he would come to trust her and commit to a more permanent future with her. If only…
After hearing what kind of man Solari was, though, she’d thanked Marc for not taking her to meet him. She shuddered, and Marc pulled a fleece throw over her arms and lap.
Once she’d thought Por Amor told of an unrequited love, but listening to the words from Marc’s perspective, she wondered if it might not have been more about his feelings for his mother—mothers. Deep down, had he known his childhood had been a lie?
And you have to say now
how much of yourself you have
committed,
how much you have believed
in this lie…
It could even have something to do with his estrangement from Gino. Complicated song for a complicated man.
The vehicle lurched to a stop, and the motor cut. Soon Marc was unbuckling her and ushering her out. They walked a fair distance with the wind whipping at the ends of her loose hair before he put her hands on two handrails and tapped the back of her left thigh, indicating she should lift her leg. Steps. She climbed them with Marc’s hand at the small of her back to keep her from falling backward. She didn’t remember any restaurants that had a stairway to them. This must be a new place.
When she reached the top of the stairway, he halted her. She detected no smells that would hint at her being at an Italian restaurant. If anything, she smelled…jet fuel?
Marc indicated she should veer to the right, and she did so. He eased her into a very comfortable chair—leather, mmmm—and buckled her in.
So they were on an airplane? How had they gotten through security so easily—and wouldn’t someone have questioned why she was blindfolded?
Minutes later, the sensation of charging down a runway left no doubt that they were flying somewhere. Wow. What on earth did he have planned for tonight? And where? Perhaps a large city. That didn’t sound like his style, but he’d told her he made an annual trip to New York City to enjoy an Italian opera at the Metropolitan. He hadn’t taken the trip, as far as she knew, since they’d met, although she couldn’t account for what he’d done during their three-month separation.
Thank God they were back together. He’d surprised her by saying he wanted to live with her in Aspen Corners at least until her lease was up—if she’d have him. They’d made some wonderful memories there. She just hoped he didn’t feel claustrophobic in her one-bedroom, single-story bungalow after having the run of an enormous house.
She had no idea how much time had passed when something cold pressed against her lips, and she opened her mouth. A tap under her chin told her to bite. Mmmm. Strawberry dipped in white chocolate. Why was he feeding her if they were going to be eating soon? Who cared? She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and the combination of two of her favorite flavors excited her taste buds. He followed with warm prosciutto wrapped asparagus spears and a sip of white zinfandel. He encouraged her to try some of his classier wines but respected her preference for the fruitier ones. A girl on a budget couldn’t afford classy wines, especially not when she was building up a business.
Her next bite tasted like a cream puff that she gobbled down quickly. Marc’s tongue brushed against her lips, probably capturing some of the whipped cream she’d missed, and she opened for him. He deepened the kiss, his tongue invading her mouth. Mmmm. The best thing to cross her lips all day.
When he grabbed her hair, tilting her head back to plunge even farther into her mouth, heat pooled in her pelvis. She suddenly wondered what the other passengers must be thinking. But the stairway to the plane hadn’t been more than a dozen steps. Didn’t commercial flights use gangways? Were they on a private plane? If so, the ride was incredibly smooth. Good grief. What if it was a jet?
Where would Marc have found a jet?
Marc unclipped her seatbelt. She licked her lips, wanting to keep his essence with her even longer. He dragged her from the seat by both arms until she stood pressed against him, and he kissed her again. His hands roamed over her ass, tugging her against his erection.
Mio Dio! Was she about to join the mile-high club? She blushed. What would Mama say if she ever found out?
Angelina gave a mental shrug. She was an adult. And she wanted Marc to make love to her wherever he wanted after having waited so long for him. Besides, Mama liked Marc. Eventually her overbearing brothers would come around to see he was the right man for her, even if he didn’t meet their impossibly high standards.
A pinch on her butt cheek told her she wasn’t focusing her mind where it should be.
She reached out and stroked Marc’s back in long, sweeping motions before her hand inched closer and closer to his sexy ass. How he managed
to keep his butt in such great shape escaped her. Hers was soft and jiggly; he had buns of steel. Dio, she loved touching him there. She dragged her fingernails over his cheeks and imagined the hiss she knew he made, even though it was drowned out by the headset. She knew her man’s responses, and her imagination filled in the gaps.
Why was he still depriving her of sight and sound? He had to know she’d guessed where she was.
Marc nibbled the side of her neck. Aroused rather than feeling ticklish, she nearly melted into a puddle at his feet. His hand reached inside the keyhole of her dress, bringing back memories of the first time they’d danced. She could hear the strains of Return to Me in her headset instead of Volare, and they began to slow dance as they’d done before in Rico’s bar—not the chaste way Papa had taught her in high school either.
Angelina didn’t expect so much room in the plane’s aisle, but Marc’s movements led her to imagine a wide expanse. How could he have acquired a jet?
Anticipation and curiosity nearly got the best of her. The song’s sad lyrics had Dean Martin asking for forgiveness. Marc had played it at Rico’s when he’d come back to her before Luke’s accident. Before the interrogation scene. Did he ever regret shutting her out again that night? At least now they both understood more about why he did so, but hated it took such extreme measures to get him there.
Nothing is ever easy with you, Marc.
She needed to stop focusing on the dark days of their recent past and stay in this moment, dancing with the man she loved thousands of feet in the air. She’d missed him so much all these months and didn’t want to squander a single second worrying about their past or future. If they never managed a forever kind of love for themselves, at least she’d have another special memory to tuck away and hold on to, forever. And he was her Dom again.
Marc, when will you see that I am yours completely?
He removed the padded headphones and whispered, “Bella, I’ve missed you so.”
Had she spoken aloud? She didn’t think so. She held him closer. “I’ve missed you, too…Sir.” She assumed she was to address him as her Dom, given she was being deprived of two senses and in the middle of what seemed like an elaborately planned scene.
Somebody's Angel (#5 in a Military Romance / BDSM Romance series) (Rescue Me) Page 52