by Amy Ayers
Marco’s arms circled her shoulders and brought her close. “You don’t have to do anything but be our guest, and Max’s mother.”
“Marco, don’t you see? It doesn’t matter. Brynn is going to be your wife. Your mother will always be your mother. I’m just feeling off about my role here.”
Marco’s eyes blazed. She could feel the skin through his shirt as it flushed warmly through her thin robe. “Brynn is not who I want to be with, Senna. Let me make that abundantly clear. It’s not what I want.”
His hand reached up and cupped her face, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. The other hand snaked around her waist and pulled her flush against his towering maleness. As always he smelled exotic, like heat and spice and man.
Senna’s eyes closed briefly. She wanted this. She wanted to give herself to him. The past week had been a study in tamping down her feelings, burying them deep because they could serve only to hurt her. Marco was taken. End of story. But it was becoming clear she had no willpower around this man, even if he was promised to another woman.
His touch brought back visceral memories of their stolen night together on top of Medina Enterprises. The way she opened to him and gave herself with no thoughts other than the pleasure they could take from each other. Back then it had been months of innocent flirting, then more overt foreplay, culminating in one explosive night. The thought of having him again excited and frightened her at the same time. The fusion of those two emotions resulted in a carnal passion she never felt before. If it didn’t feel so right, the force of it would have terrified her.
Words tumbled out before she could censor herself. “If you want me, I’m yours, Marco. I never stopped being yours.” She hated herself a little, but it was the truth.
With a groan of assent, he closed the distance between their lips and kissed her gently, but with purpose. As Senna found her hands reaching for the smooth skin at the back of his neck, Marco’s kiss deepened. His lips were firm, forceful, his tongue searching.
His words were low, harsh with need. “Let me show you how I feel, show you what we can have.”
She intended to murmur his name, but the noise that came out was more a stifled groan, a plea for pleasures promised.
He wasted no time. His hands flew to the front of her robe and unknotted the tie with studied intensity. Suddenly the fact that she was about to be naked in front of this beautiful man struck her.
Carrying a ten-pound baby changes a woman. In addition to the few extra pounds that clung to her hips and breasts, she had stretch marks and other general evidence that her body had been a human incubator. The physical changes were worth it, of course. Max was perfect, and that was all that mattered. All that should matter.
She broke Marco’s kiss and stepped back. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted Marco, more than she’d wanted anything. But maybe they needed less light.
“Let me turn off the light,” she whispered, moving quickly to the switch on the wall.
“Senna?” Marco questioned. “Why? What are you doing?”
“Marco, I’ve— My—” She rested her hands on her abdomen. Marco seemed to clue in right away.
“You had a baby. You are beautiful. You don’t need to turn off the light on my account.” His words were what she needed to hear. But still.
“I’m sure my body doesn’t look like, you know, other women you’ve— It’s not like Brynn’s—”
“Stop, Senna.” His expression was set firmly. “There has been no one else since you. Not one.”
Senna felt her mouth fall open in surprise, then shut with a snap. “But it’s been—”
“A long time. Too long. And I’m not interested in Brynn that way. So come back over here so I can get you out of that robe and into that bed.”
Senna couldn’t say no to that.
They undressed each other slowly, with a restraint that Senna was sure neither one of them felt. Once Senna’s robe was in a puddle on the floor, her inhibitions left her and she desperately wanted Marco in a similar state. She felt the firm evidence of his arousal against her stomach, but that wasn’t the only treasure his body held.
Slowly she unbuttoned his fitted shirt and revealed the hard expanse of chest underneath. She started at his shoulders and ran her fingers down the rigid planes, outlining each muscle with her touch. The smattering of hair that thickened invitingly at his waist called out to her for exploration. She knew where that trail led, and her blood began to set a punishing rhythm in her veins.
Something else was thickening invitingly, and she couldn’t help but palm his rock-hard erection through the thin fabric of his dress pants. But he didn’t let her linger there long. His hands were exploring, flushing hotly against the cool expanse of her back.
He muttered, “You’re even more glorious than I remember.”
“I should be the one saying that, Marco.” She finally managed to unbuckle his belt and quickly took care of his button and zipper, sending his pants to the floor where they landed with a gentle thump. Somehow he managed to toe off his shoes and socks, and she reveled in the solid warmth of his embrace.
Senna gasped as Marco scooped her up in his arms and made his way purposely to the bed. He set her down gently and spent a moment just staring at her.
Without thinking, she tried to hide herself with a few pillows.
“Stop covering yourself up, princesa.” His words were a soft caress that elicited a wave of desire deep within.
He positioned himself at the end of the bed, his knees gently nudging her legs apart. He covered her gently, and his forearms came to rest on either side of her head, his hands exploring her hair. His gaze locked onto hers, and she felt like she could see into the deepest part of his being, a part that wasn’t shown or made public, a well of emotion that a man saved for only the woman he loved.
Love. The word ricocheted around her heart, spurring it to pound faster. Was this love? This feeling of wanting? Ripping yourself open and inviting the most intense scrutiny?
“Senna,” he said quietly, reverently, as his lips landed firmly on hers. “Stop thinking. I can practically see smoke billowing out of your gorgeous, sexy ears.”
The laughter bubbled up from her core. “Sexy ears?”
His lips moved to the left side of her head, and he kissed the tender pink shell slowly. “Yes,” he breathed between feather-soft kisses. “Sexy.”
He pulled back and commanded her gaze once again. “Every part of you is beautiful. Every part of you is worth worshiping. Now stop thinking and let me get back to it.”
Senna thought she was ready for it, but his kiss was intimate, arousing, quickly morphing into needy and wanting. Senna kissed him back with the same fervor.
Their instant intensity startled her. It had been so long since they had been intimate. But time didn’t matter, at least it didn’t for her. After everything she went through, having Max alone, being angry with Marco, trying to hunt him down—none of that seemed to matter anymore. Not when he was here, in her arms, whispering words of love and adoration using a combination of languages that ratcheted up her desire.
Slowly he made his way down to her neck, nibbling at the soft skin around her collarbone. His hands palmed her breasts and brushed her nipples with his thumbs. Her breasts were sensitive because she was nursing, but feeling Marco’s firm thumbs tease her nipples sent her into another stratosphere of sensation.
He kept going, moving his lips and glorious fingers down to her stomach. Suddenly Senna realized where he was headed, and she froze.
“Marco—” She didn’t know what to say.
“Princesa, I have to taste you; I hope that’s all right.”
“It’s just been a while. I haven’t—there hasn’t been—”
Marco smiled in understanding. “I’ll take care of you.”
He hooked his thumbs in the tiny strings that made up the sides of her way-too-expensive panties, pulled them down, and flung the tiny scrap away from the bed. He moaned in appreciation as he
reached under her thighs and lifted her up so her core was in the optimal position. It was profoundly intimate, and Senna made the conscious choice to surrender to his tender ministrations.
He was slow and methodical at first with his exploration, but it had been a long time, and she felt herself tightening around a blooming warmth in her belly. Every stroke of his tongue and swipe of his lips brought her higher and higher. He must have sensed her increasing arousal. He disengaged for just a moment to murmur words like, “That’s it, let go.”
Then she did. Bright white lights exploded behind her eyelids, and she felt like a roaring wave of pleasure had been unleashed inside her, a wave that kept cresting as Marco continued.
Finally he disengaged, kissing his way back up her belly, stopping only at her breasts to lavish them with his tongue.
He was driving her crazy with his touch, his lips, everything. Including the hot, rock-hard length of his cock against her thigh. She wanted him inside her, and she was running out of patience. “Oh my God, Marco, I need you.”
He looked up and caught her gaze and gave her a small smile. “I need you too, princesa.” He got up quickly, crossing to where his pants lay abandoned on the floor. He extracted a foil packet from his pocket and quickly rolled it onto his length before returning to his intimate embrace with Senna on the bed.
“Just so you know, I have an IUD now. I had it put in after Max was born. He’s perfect, but I don’t need any more surprises.”
“Good thinking. Now where was I?”
He kissed her deeply, and Senna wrapped her arms around his back, holding him to her. She stretched her arms down and palmed his muscled backside, pulling him toward her. He groaned.
He reached down between them and slowly guided himself inside her. He groaned again. “Senna, you feel so good, so perfect.”
Senna had no idea what to expect when he entered her this time. The real estate down there had undergone renovations of sorts, and Marco wasn’t exactly a small man. She tensed slightly as he bottomed out inside her.
“Are you okay?” he asked in a strangled voice. She knew he was desperately trying to hang on to control. She also knew he didn’t want to hurt her.
“Yes, just need a second…” Slowly Marco began to pull out, and then thrust inside her slowly. The first few were tender, but after that her hips began matching his pace, spurring him on even faster.
Marco’s eyes locked on Senna’s. This union, this coupling, felt so different than their first night together. Now it felt like it signified something more concrete, more of a promise of what was to come. Senna felt herself building again, the familiar warmth blooming as he continued to plunge inside her.
Nothing else mattered. His family, her insecurities, the gaping chasm between their stations in life, none of it was important. Senna felt Marco’s feelings for her in each stroke, each movement, and Senna desperately tried to give it right back.
Suddenly Marco tensed, and she knew he was there. His face went slack with release and before she could recognize what was happening, something inside her released again, sending her into another rolling wave of bliss.
Her eyes fluttered open. She’d seen this suite every morning since she had arrived, but today something was different. She rolled from her side to her back and then her memories of the previous night returned. She wasn’t alone in her bed. Evidence of that was the strong thick arm that held her firmly across her waist. Marco.
She hadn’t expected him to come to her bed last night. But he was so desperate, he looked so hurt. Even through her haze of sleep she’d seen this wasn’t just some illicit quickie. In fact, there had been nothing quick about any of it. Marco had made love to her over and over, bringing her to completion so many times she lost count.
They hadn’t taken a break until the sky had started to lighten with the impending sunrise. Senna had snuck out to feed Max, then crawled back into Marco’s arms and slept instantly.
She closed her eyes and chastised herself inwardly. He must have been persuasive last night, because she didn’t kick him out of her bed. There was no mistaking the hunger they had for each other, the raw need. But they needed to talk. Last night had been amazing, but she couldn’t let it continue.
Despite all of his deep-rooted loyalty to archaic traditions and blind obedience to his family’s will, would he call off his wedding to Brynn? Senna closed her eyes and willed the butterflies in her stomach to stop fluttering for a minute and just calm down while she figured this out. She wouldn’t dare let herself get her hopes up. Her heart was fragile, and she was protecting it with the strongest armor she could muster.
But…
Waking up in his arms was a special kind of perfect. She felt secure, safe, even cherished. No other person had ever made her feel that way. She’d pretty much been able to rely on only herself to feel like that, and her efforts always fell a little short. In Marco’s arms nothing could hurt her, she’d bet her life on that.
She idly stroked his hand, the one that had her locked to him, telling her that even in sleep, she belonged to him. There was no doubt she loved him. She’d loved him last year when she’d allowed him to seduce her, and she loved him even more now.
His arm flexed around her waist and brought her close to him, her back nestled against his warmth, his thick arousal pulsing heavily against her lower back. The man cannot be ready again. But his body couldn’t hide his intentions.
“Good morning, princesa. I trust you slept well?” He nuzzled her neck, moving her hair out of the way so he could lave featherlight kisses up to her ear and back down her jaw. Who knew there were so many erogenous zones? Every sweep of his lips ignited the flame roiling in her belly.
She turned over to face him. He stroked up and down her side, causing a torturous ticklish sensation. His fingers lazily meandered to her breast, gently thumbing her nipple with the pad of his thumb.
“Well, we didn’t seem to do much sleeping.” His fingers were weaving a spell on her sensitive skin, a spell she didn’t want to break.
He chuckled, a dangerous throaty sound flavored with the vestiges of sleep. “True. I’m sorry our night together wasn’t more…restful.” His lips replaced his fingers on her breast, and she inhaled sharply at the intense sensations.
She had an overwhelming urge to keep him right where he was, sated and spent in her bed. Her bed and no one else’s. It was a primal urge, and one she didn’t think she could control even if she tried.
Wordlessly, she pushed him to his back and began to worship him in earnest. She kissed each and every hard ridge and muscle up and down his chest. She stopped briefly at each nipple, paying special attention to them with her tongue. He tasted warm, salty, and definitively male.
She settled herself between his thick, muscular thighs, bringing her hand down to wrap around his length. Her actions were driven by pure raw desire. There was no rational thought to her actions. She just wanted to feel him, inhale him, be one with him.
Soft moans came from his lips as she began to stroke him. Without any warning he reached down and pulled her on top of him.
“Are you trying to kill me, Senna?” With a sinfully deep grunt, he lowered her onto his length. He felt perfect inside of her, every angle, every pulse, sent her instantly higher. She moved on top of him slowly at first, then with a rhythm quickened by desire.
Exercising his physical prowess once again, he quickly flipped her onto her back and stared so intensely into her eyes Senna swore he could read her every thought. In fact, she hoped he could. The only thought in her brain scared her too much to say out loud. So she said it with her body, her caresses, her refusal to break the intensity of his gaze. Why did such simple words scare her so deeply?
I love you, I love you.
Because the next logical plea was Choose me. Take me. I’m yours. Followed closely by the scariest of them all.
Don’t leave me.
They must have dozed off again. The next time she opened her eyes, a growl erupted
from her stomach with an embarrassing volume. Just how many meals have we missed? She had already snuck over to the nursery to feed Max twice. Now her body was telling her it needed sustenance as well.
She sat up and stretched. Every limb felt slightly abused. The man was an animal in bed, and she knew she had a dopey grin on her face. I could get used to this. But that thought was quickly followed with the sobering But don’t. It won’t last.
Marco was on his stomach sprawled across the huge bed with only a scrap of bedsheet across his hips. His golden skin glowed against the stark white sheets, his face ravaged with stubble that Senna yearned to feel scraping sensually across her skin.
His eyes fluttered open.
“Sounds like I’ve been neglectful of your needs.”
Oh no. Her needs were met many, many times during the night and into the morning. Her stomach emitted another voracious growl.
She laughed and sank back down into the pillows, her face inches from Marco.
“Apparently my body needs fuel.”
“Your body is heaven.” His lips glanced hers before he buried his face in her neck, his morning stubble rubbing deliciously against her sensitive skin.
Abruptly, he sat up. “I’ll get Max and meet you in the rose garden. We can have breakfast or lunch or… What time is it, anyway?”
“I don’t know, but I think we skipped a few meals.” She couldn’t stop the giggle that erupted from her throat. It sounded girlish, giddy. Happy. She was happy.
“And I’d skip more, just say the word.” Senna sobered at the raw desire in his voice. There was no artifice there, no guile. He wanted her. The silence between them throbbed with the passion that still hung in the air after their night, and morning, together.
“Food first.”
Marco smiled an easy smile and leaned in for a slow, delicious kiss. “See you downstairs.”