“It is,” I say. I sit down on the bed. This is horrible. I can feel the moment coming when he will leave. I don’t want him to go. I want him to stay. What can I do?
Marco picks up the room service menu and flicks through it as if he is assessing this place for a future stay of his own. Or, more likely, I suppose, deciding whether to send a client here. But it gives me an idea – one that I latch onto tightly. It’s the only thing I can think of to stop him from leaving right now.
“Would you like to get a drink?” I ask. “Room service does delivery.”
Marco’s green eyes flick up to mine, and there’s something in them that I can’t read, a kind of darkness. “Sounds like a good idea,” he agrees. “What would you like?”
“I don’t know,” I shrug. “I think they do virgin cocktails. I haven’t tried any yet.”
“How about a virgin pina colada?” Marco suggests, walking over and reaching for the phone. “I’ll have some wine.”
He places the order in answer to my nod, and I pretend to listen, even though I can barely hear a thing over the pounding of my own heart. He’s here. In my room. Staying. The only place to sit is on the bed or on the one chair by the desk, and I hope he will choose the bed. Even as he continues talking on the phone, he sits, casually, right next to me. When he finishes the call and puts the receiver down, I find my mouth has gone dry.
This is it. The moment. With Marco so close, I could make a move right now, have his hands on me, his mouth. But I don’t know what to do. I’ve never made any move, let alone the first. I look at him through my eyelashes, his hands resting casually on the bed, his lips, raising my gaze to meet his eyes. He looks back at me, and the expression in those green orbs makes me freeze entirely.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Marco
Something in the room shifted as soon as we stepped over the threshold. No, before that, I sensed it in the elevator, and to a smaller degree even in the back of the taxi. There is something emanating from Hannah, some magnetism that draws me in, some heat.
When she suggests that I should stay, I knew it. I haven’t mistaken a thing. That magnetism I feel is her desire, coming off her like waves. I feel the intensity of her glances like heat on my skin. She wants this – wants what I want. All that remains is to begin.
I put the phone down and turn my head to look at her, to watch her hooded eyes traveling over my body, up to my mouth. She meets my eyes and I see my signal, the message I’ve been waiting for, the look in her eyes that begs me to claim her now.
It’s time to make her mine. The moment I’ve been waiting for since I first saw her in the street and knew who she was. I reach out without hesitation to place my hand along her jaw, the side of her face, lifting her towards me, taking her into my control. A moment later my mouth follows, covering hers, taking her into a deep kiss that makes her groan deep in her chest.
There’s no more hesitation. I deepen our kiss even further, flicking my tongue across her lips. They part with a sigh, and then our tongues are pressing together, tangling, dancing in a dance that our bodies know without instruction.
My hands move, down across her shoulders, caressing, squeezing. They travel from her arms down to her waist, where I grip her tightly, glorying in the feel of her under my hands. She’s everything I had imagined and more, and I can’t get enough. A fury of desire takes over my movements and I shift our bodies, laying her back down onto the bed, crawling over the top of her. My body over hers is almost enough to take my control away, and I slip my hands under the fabric of her dress, traveling up her thighs until I reach the fabric of her panties.
Hannah gasps into my mouth, and I draw back slightly, enough to check that she’s alright. I look into her eyes and see something I hadn’t expected to see, fear. It’s enough to stop me in my tracks, my hands hesitating right on the verge of gripping the sides of her panties to pull them down and out of the way, my hardness is forgotten for a moment even as it presses almost painfully against the clothes keeping it contained.
“What is it?” I ask, searching her face for answers.
“It’s nothing,” Hannah says, far too quickly. Then, because she must know it sounded like a lie, she continues. “I just – I’ve never – I haven’t done this before. I… I’m a virgin.”
I freeze completely, staring down at her in shock. In all of the things, she could have said, for some reason I never expected it to be that.
And the knock at the door is so loud I almost jump, accompanied by the shouted announcement that our room service is here.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Hannah
I shouldn’t have said anything. I know I shouldn’t have admitted it.
I know, because even though honesty felt like the right thing at the moment, I’m regretting it completely. The way Marco froze over me, the shock in his expression – I know that what I said immediately turned him off, and now he wants nothing to do with me. Which is awkward, because now our drinks are here.
As he gets off me and goes to the door, I feel a deep crimson blush filling my cheeks, the shame of the moment. I can’t believe I admitted how inexperienced I am. What was I thinking? Now he remembers that I’m just a kid compared to him, who’s hardly seen or done anything in her life. Now he’s going to back out, make an excuse and leave, I just know it. How can I blame him?
I frantically tug my dress back down over my legs, covering myself up. The last thing I need is to still be exposed to his eyes when he comes back. I sit up, flattening my hair, taking a more appropriate seated position, turning my body to the front rather than towards where he was sitting. Marco sounds pleasant enough as he accepts the room service, but inside I’m dying, waiting for him to come back and make his excuses.
He closes the door and sets a small round tray, with both of our drinks on top, on the dresser beside the bed, pushing the phone aside. Then he sits, exactly where he was before. I guess he’s going to try and let me down gently. I was expecting him to just rush out and leave. I don’t know which is worse.
“Hannah,” he says, gently, so gently that I want to cry.
“It’s alright,” I blurt out, unable to bear it. “You want to go now. I understand. You don’t have to make excuses.”
There’s a pause, silence between us. When Marco doesn’t reply or move, the wait is so torturous that I manage to drag my ashamed eyes from the carpet up to look at him. What surprises me is that he doesn’t look angry, or awkward, or embarrassed. He’s simply smiling gently.
“Hannah,” he starts again. “I didn’t know. This changes everything, but it’s not that I want to leave?”
“Why?” I ask. I want the ground to swallow me whole, so I don’t have to keep experiencing this anymore. It must be the most awful thing that’s ever happened to me. “You don’t have to stay just because of my Dad. I’ve ruined everything. You can just go.”
A pained expression passes over Marco’s face. “Bella, please don’t mention your father right now. Not when I’m, well, still a little… indisposed.”
At first, I don’t understand what he means by that, but a gesture draws my attention down – down to his lap, where I can still see a certain bulging shape. My eyes widen. Does that mean he’s still interested, despite everything…?
“I don’t think less of you,” Marco says. He reaches out and cups the side of my face – this time, with a gentle calm, not the passion of just a moment ago. “Actually, it’s the opposite. But your first time should be special.”
A thickness is clogging my tongue, my throat, a heaviness in the back of my eyes. “But it was going to be,” I say, stubbornly. “Don’t I get to decide what’s special?”
Marco smiles, almost looking as though he wants to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “You’re impatient,” he says, neither a rebuke nor a question, just a statement. “But trust me, mi bella. I will make it special for you. I will.”
My eyes widen again. Does that mean it isn’t over? That tonight, we can still�
�? “Now?” I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper as I dare to hope.
“Not tonight.” Marco shakes his head. “It needs time. Effort. Tomorrow, let me treat you. I will give you a whole day, a dedication to only your pleasure. We start on the streets of this beautiful city and I will make everything perfect for you.”
I can feel myself pouting. I suspect it might not be entirely attractive, but I can’t help it. “But…”
“But you’re impatient, yes.” Marco smiles, and shifts his hand, the pad of his thumb brushing over my lower lip. His voice turns lower, huskier, sparking something deep in the pit of my stomach. “So, tonight, I will give you just a little taste.”
“A taste?” I ask, but Marco makes no answer. At least, not a verbal one. His mouth covers mine, gentler this time, his hand simply guiding me in place rather than gripping me tightly. Before I have remembered to breathe again, he slips from my mouth and guides me onto my back, settling my head on the pillows.
I have no idea what to expect, and my confusion only grows when his hands go under my dress again, hooking into the sides of my panties. I thought he said we weren’t going to do that? Then he pulls them down, swiftly all the way over my knees and then off the ends of my feet, to be discarded on the floor, leaving me feeling stunned.
I’ve never been even this much naked in front of someone else, with nothing from the waist down. I feel so exposed! The thought of Marco’s eyes on me makes me want to squirm, and my legs automatically clamp together, as though I can hide by simply doing that.
“Relax,” Marco says, his hands drifting softly over my thighs. “Trust me.”
I do trust him, even though I find that I’m scared all of a sudden, self-conscious with all of the lights on. But his gentle touch persuades me to relax, and as he draws my thighs open again, one hand on each of my legs, I find that I don’t resist.
His eyes linger between my legs, and I feel so strange to know that he’s looking at me there, seeing me in my entirety, in a way that no one ever has. Not even myself. But if I have hang-ups about what he might see there, apparently Marco has no problem with it, because only a moment later he’s launching himself closer, so much so that I almost squeak in surprise, wondering why he needs to take such a close look.
It surprises me, even more, when I feel a touch – something unexpected, especially with his face so close to me. In fact, I look down and realize that his hands are still on my thighs, cupping each of them to keep them parted. So, then, what…?
The touch comes again, stronger this time, a movement across my lips down there, upwards and over them, making me shiver when it moves over a bundle of nerves. Something rough yet gentle, something wet, something –
His tongue.
Marco is licking me – again now – and the realization makes me burn red at the same time as it sends more jolts and sparks down low in my belly. His tongue moves again and again, not fast but inexorably, starting that long lick each time it finishes. I feel pleasure pooling inside me, sparks rising every time he moves over that one bundle of nerves, and I realize with even more chagrin that I must be getting wet – that he must be able to feel it – taste it.
Marco’s rhythm changes without warning, his tongue swirling in a circular motion, around and around those nerves, making me arch my back involuntarily. I barely know what I’m doing, and as he continues I hear a moan burst from my lips, shocking me. My eyes roll closed, and my hands clutch at the sheets for some measure of control, feeling pleasure building, and building inside me in such an unfamiliar way.
I can’t stop moving – bucking my hips in little movements up towards his face, gripping and twisting the sheets, moaning and gasping, arching my back, my head thrown against the pillow. I don’t know what’s come over me – why I can’t stay in control. I’m panting for breath, my whole existence taken over by the sensations Marco is giving me, that spiral of pleasure, growing and growing inside of me like some fast-blooming flower, making me wonder what heights it can reach, where it’s taking me.
And still, Marco keeps going, I have no idea how. His tongue works over me, and I can feel the rough brush of the stubble on his chin against other parts of me, somehow immensely pleasurable instead of painful. I feel the wave of pleasure growing, higher, higher, reaching up and up until I think I can no longer take it, I can no longer hold on –
And suddenly it spills over me like water, coursing through my whole body, a tingling bliss that extends through all of my limbs, making my hips twitch and pulse, making me light-headed until I slowly come back to myself lying dazed on the pillows, Marco looking up from between my legs with a grin.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Marco
When Hannah emerges from the blissful cocoon of her afterglow, she blinks at me lazily, then sits up. “That was just a taste?” she asks, which makes me laugh.
“Yes, bella. Tomorrow will be even better.” I reach for my phone and fire off a quick text to Fran before I forget, telling her that I confirm all my schedule for the week should be cleared. This is all about Hannah, now.
I grab the pizza box from the side and open it as I rejoin her on the bed, settling myself against the headboard as Hannah also sits upright. Together with our drinks, the pizza makes for a good snack – especially now, after we have both exerted ourselves, even if not in as much of a way as we will tomorrow.
Still, as I eat one of my slices, I can’t help but think no matter how rich the pizza, how deep the wine, none of it tastes as good as her.
I look at her as she eats until she catches on and looks back at me. Then I offer her a smile. I like to watch her. When she eats, she enjoys her food. Not like those women who are so obsessed with staying slim, they don’t even get to be present while they eat.
“Do you need to book anything for tomorrow?” Hannah asks. Her tone is innocent enough, but I know that she’s fishing for information. Trying to get an idea of what I have planned for her.
“No, I don’t need to,” I say, in the same innocent tone, pretending to be interested in my wine as I swirl it and hold it up to the light.
“Oh.” Hannah thinks about that for a moment. I can guess what’s going through her mind, there will be no fancy restaurant and she’s right about that. We’ve already done that, and I’m nowhere near out of new ideas. “Well, how should I dress?”
“In the morning?” I pick an olive off my last slice of pizza and eat it on its own. “Just something comfortable. It doesn’t matter so much. Anyway, I will be here to help you choose.”
“You will?” Hannah looks at me with round eyes.
I chuckle. “Well, I did send the taxi away,” I tell her, then gesture towards the clock. “And by the time we finish digesting this little supper, it will be late. I might as well stay here.”
Hannah is still looking at me with those wide eyes that I could just drown myself in. I can almost see the thoughts running through her mind. “But I thought you said…?”
“We can stay in the same room without having sex,” I tell her, chuckling at her confusion. “Don’t worry. I’m strong enough to keep my hands to myself.”
“Are you sure?” Hannah asks, and whether she intended it to come across as coy or was an innocent question, it still makes me laugh all the same.
Of course, it will be hard. But knowing that I will claim her for myself tomorrow, and only for myself so that she will never know another man makes it bearable.
At least, that’s what I think… until she emerges from the bathroom dressed in her nightgown, which flows over her breasts – freed from a bra – and falls only to just above her knees, casting all kinds of sinful thoughts into my mind.
But for her, I can resist. It’s no longer about my pleasure but about hers, and how much better it will be if she is prepared in the right way. Tomorrow, we begin a journey that will last for the rest of our lives. I will make her mine, bind her to me, and we will be one. That is not something to be undertaken on a whim, at the suggestion of mere lust
.
For her, I can wait.
Just not for too long.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Hannah
When I wake up, there is no moment where I forget where I am or who is with me. No, from the moment I lift myself out of dreams, I remember. I know that Marco is here, in my bed with me. I remember seeing him last night, his suit jacket and shirt shucked off and placed neatly over the back of the chair, his bare chest and back, the muscles I have been imagining all of this time almost making my eyes pop out of my head. I could barely believe then that he would make me wait to get my hands on all of that.
But in the end, I didn’t wait – at least, not exactly. Because while I lay there in bed next to him, with the lights off, he scooped me into his arms, my back resting against his chest, and held me there like that all night.
I think it was the most restful sleep I’ve ever had.
Although, what strikes me as I open my eyes this morning is that his arms are no longer around me. A sudden fear hits me that he’s gone, and I turn over quickly, only to see him standing by the chair, fastening the buttons on his shirt.
A fresh-looking shirt, which only has me blinking in confusion. How did he manage to get new clothes while I was asleep?
“Morning, bella,” Marco says, smiling at me. “Are you ready for a day out?”
I blink sleepily. “How did you…?”
Marco laughs. “My assistant came by this morning. She’s very reliable.”
The word ‘she’ goes through me like a bolt of lightning. I don’t know why Marco shouldn’t have a female assistant, but it stirs terrible jealousy within me. I bite my lip a second, before slowly rolling out of the bed from under the covers and getting up.
“I was thinking about wearing this dress today,” I say, pointing to a blue denim shirt dress with embroidered flowers scattered across it.
“It will be fitting,” Marco nods, pursing his lips to hide what I think is an amused smile. Giving him a sideways look, still wondering about this assistant he mentioned, I take my things into the bathroom to get ready.
Rome WIth Dad's Best Friend Page 4
