It was all more than she could bear. Tears threatened to fall and she struggled to calm herself. She would not give Ethan the pleasure of seeing her cry. Marco, still silent, seemed to sense her problem and pulled her forward, sliding her in front of him, allowing her to lean back against his strength, gently wrapping her in his arms. She took a deep breath and centered herself; Ethan was just pressing her buttons—again. She’d done nothing wrong, and no one, especially not an egotistical bastard like Ethan, could make Marco Genovese do anything he didn’t want to do.
“The only distasteful conversation concerning me is this one,” she finally said. “You should leave. I don’t want to fight, and you’re making a spectacle of yourself.”
She did want to fight, actually, but Ethan wasn’t worth it. She wasn’t going to waste a single minute more than she had to on him.
“I don’t want to fight either,” he said, eyes narrowing as he watched Marco’s hands as they rubbed soothing little circles on Mina’s arms. Marco said nothing, just continued his lazy exploration of the skin beneath his fingers. “But you’re the one making a spectacle. I wanted to give you a chance you reconsider your hasty decision to move out. I know you’ve moved in with Ivy, but you can’t stay there indefinitely. You need me, and I figure it’s only fair to let you change your mind, even if you’ve managed to cause a storm of trouble.”
Mina was contemplating the storm of trouble she’d like to cause when a deep voice emanated from the man holding her.
“You are even more of an imbecile than I originally thought, Masters,” Marco drawled lazily, contempt thickly accenting his words. “Considering the fact that my opinion of you was incredibly low to begin with, that is almost impressive.”
The insult shocked Ethan out of his typical smugness, and an ugly mottled red crept out of Ethan’s collar and up his neck. “I don’t believe I was speaking to you, Genovese,” he glared at the man inexplicably holding his prize. “You can run back to your supermodel girlfriends, now. This isn’t any business of yours. The jealousy thing isn’t working, and this is strictly between Mina and me.”
A predatory look crossed Marco’s face and Ethan instinctively stepped backwards. “Anything concerning Mina is my business, and there is nothing between you and her anymore.”
Marco slid his hands under Mina’s arms, splaying his fingers across her middle, making his claim clear. He watched confusion bloom on the blond’s face, almost laughing when the penny dropped and Ethan finally realized this wasn’t an act
“You ungrateful bitch!” Ethan snarled as he saw the way Mina leaned into Marco, trust and welcome in every line of her body. “How long have you been sleeping with him behind my back?”
In a split second Ethan found his venom spewing cut off as his shirt collar was gripped tightly in Marco’s angry fist, lifting him helplessly to his toes.
“You will never speak to her like that again.” Mina shivered at the loss of heat from Marco’s body, and from the cold fury in his voice. Please don’t ever let him talk like that to me, she thought.
“And what are you going to do about it?” Ethan’s reply was pure bravado; Mina could see the color leaving his face. “I knew you wanted her, ever since that event we hosted, but really… she’s a frigid bitch. She’s so cold she’d snap your dick off if you tried to fuck her.”
Marco’s hold on Ethan’s shirt collar tightened, and Mina heard a growl of anger escape his throat.
“You don’t get to say such things,” he twisted the fabric until it cut into Ethan’s flesh. Mina could see the maître‘d wringing his hands, afraid to interfere and even more afraid not to. “She never betrayed you—would never have considered it. You can only blame yourself for your loss.”
He released Ethan suddenly, the smaller man crumpling to the floor in a graceless heap. He stood over him, a sneer on his lips that spoke volumes. “As for her being cold, I have found her to be anything but. She is responsive and passionate—a vision in her pleasure—and you? You are nothing.”
Mina stood there listening to Marco’s defense of her, and her heart racing.
“Marco?” She spoke his name and his head snapped around to look at her. “Sì , mia adorata?” His eyes were black, anger and desire warring within them, and Mina’s breath caught in her throat at the intoxicating combination.
“Leave him,” she said. She waved a hand at the manager hovering in the background. “He’s not worth it.”
A frustrated sound snarled in the space between them, Marco’s anger not wanting to let his enemy go without bloodshed. Mina placed her hand carefully over his heart, its insistent pounding a drumbeat that echoed throughout her body. She looked up at him. “Let’s go home. Please.”
Home. With him. Yes, she wanted to go home.
She stepped away from him, holding a trembling hand out to him in invitation. He ignored it, preferring to sweep her into an embrace that took the rest of her breath away.
“Anything for you,” he said, dropping a searing kiss on her lips. They stood there like that, lost in each other for a long moment until a choking noise from Ethan brought them back to their senses. Marco loosened his grip enough that he could take a final threatening step towards the man on the floor.
“I do not want to see your face again. Ever. If I hear that you have contacted her I will find you. If I hear that you’ve spoken ill of her I will destroy you. Capisci?” There was no mistaking the threat and the promise in Marco’s voice and Ethan nodded his understanding, his chin wobbling in pathetic effect. “She is mine now. You would do well to remember it.”
Mina had never heard that note of possession in his voice before and a shudder rolled through her at his words. Her eyes traveled over the stark planes of his face, until a tightness in her chest reminded her to breathe.
Mine. Mine now.
The words echoed in her ears. It didn’t matter how many other women had heard those words before. It didn’t matter that he would never be an easy man to love. He destroyed the protective barriers around her heart; he had claimed her and her heart agreed.
Marco heard the hitch in her breathing and swore softly, the words barely audible. He pulled her along, the maneuvering of doors and cars mere ghosts of interference, his only goal to have her—his, only his, in his house, in his arms, in his bed.
Chapter Six
The night had turned cool, and Mina shivered as she fought the waves of desire that threatened to suffocate her and she reached a hand out to him. A lost look—full of longing—was on her face and his body tightened in need. He gripped the steering-wheel tighter, needing something concrete to keep him focused.
“Don’t,” Marco gritted out and her eyes flashed up at him in surprise. She turned to him, swimming through layers of sensation—the breeze through the open windows, the heat of him, the tingling of her skin. “Marco?” She didn’t understand; she just wanted him.
“Dio Santo! Don’t look at me like that,” he said, eyes flickering between her and the road. “I am at the edge of my control, and unless you want me to pull over and take you right now, you won’t tease. There is only so much a man can take, Mina mia.”
She wasn’t teasing. She wanted him badly—almost enough to agree to whatever impulse was riding him—but she heard the warning in his voice and knew enough to respect it.
Marco drove too fast, the expensive engine responding to his every demand, and Mina couldn’t help but draw parallels to how he managed to wring such a response from everything he touched. She looked at him, his eyes glittering in the light from the dash, his jaw tight as he sped through town, and she ached to have that focus on her.
When they reached the building, Marco pulled a fob out of his pocket and summoned an express elevator, unwilling to wait for the regular one.
I guess I still won’t have had sex in an elevator, she thought a little wildly.
“Not now,” Marco said, a wolfish grin on his face as he pressed her against the cold wall of the elevator. “Maybe tomorrow
.”
His hands traced lines of fire across her skin, until he cupped her face in them, lifting her lips for his kiss.
“Almost,” he touched her lips with his and she gasped at the sensation, “home.” His mouth covered hers, his tongue demanding entrance. He teased the tender flesh inside her lower lip, nipping at the surface, and then lightly gliding across it to soothe the sting.
The elevator chime rang, and Mina’s knees weakened as she realized they’d arrived. The world spun in a dizzying arc as strong arms swung her up and carried her, through the hall, through the living areas, cutting through the darkness and homing in on the door—the door that had taunted her all week—and the bedroom beyond, the vision of it bringing back memories of all the pleasure that existed there before.
Whispered words washed across her in a constant stream, and she grabbed each on and held it tightly to her heart.
“Mine,” Marco said it for the thousandth time and Mina shuddered at the dark determination in his voice.
“Yours.” The single word fell from her lips and she could feel its weight as it landed between them.
Mina’s senses were in overdrive. She was aware of the warmth of Marco’s skin, the taut muscles of the arms holding her so easily, and the intoxicating scent of his cologne and that subtle spice that was just him. She was weak now—tired of standing alone—and she leaned on him, just as he wanted her to. His grip relaxed and he shifted her slightly, allowing her weight to drag her down across the hard planes of his body. His heart beat heavily beneath her cheek, his breath rasped in her ear, and she shivered in anticipation as she felt his arousal pressed tightly against her.
She rolled her head to one side, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. She was touching him, but she felt like she was so alone, so far from him, that she needed to wrap herself in him, or die trying. Marco groaned in the darkness and she smiled, a terrible, feminine smile of satisfaction, before she slid her hands up, higher and higher, cupping his chin between trembling fingers so she could draw his face down to her.
Hot lips touched and clung, and Mina stood there, amazed by the intensity of something as simple as a kiss. Marco didn’t plunge and plunder, instead his quicksilver tongue danced along, licking at her, nibbling, and finally tugging her plump lower lip until she opened herself completely to him.
His breathing was heavy, his mouth searing her where it touched, leaving her moaning as it trailed along the sensitive skin of her neck until he latched on to the place where her fluttering pulse was visible. Mina could feel his teeth as they dragged against her, knowing he was leaving his mark on her for everyone to see.
A whispered groan escaped her as he released her and she thought she heard a low laugh in the darkness. Their faces were barely visible in the dim bedroom, the streetlights too far below the windows that marched along the length of the room to cast more than incidental light, but she didn’t need the light. She knew his face like she knew her own, and she knew the desire stamped on it mirrored hers.
“Marco,” she whispered against his neck, teasing the corded muscles there with her lips, nipping in an echo of his earlier possession, “I need you. Please. Make love to me.”
His body stiffened under her hands and she couldn’t stop a panicked thought—what if this had actually been an elaborate trick and he was going to pull away and laugh in her face. Throw her out in the street with nothing, not even her pride, to keep her warm. The agony lasted a split second and an eternity, and she was almost afraid to breathe, knowing that would mean the Rubicon would be passed.
She needn’t have worried. Marco had no intention of letting her go back.
“Finally you come to your senses and admit it,” he said, satisfaction thick in his voice. “I was about to give up hope and take matters into my own hands.”
Mina couldn’t help herself. “And just what would you have done if I hadn’t ‘come to my senses’?”
Black eyes glittered down at her in the low light. “I’d have tied you down to my bed and made you realize your mistake.”
Her mouth was suddenly as dry as other parts of her body were wet. “You wouldn’t,” she started, but Marco pulled her even tighter into his arms, his hands tight around her. “I will do whatever it takes. Do not forget that.” There was no question in his voice, no hesitance in his words. He would let nothing stand in the way of his getting what he wanted, and he wanted—for whatever reason—her. The power in him attracted her like iron filings to a magnet. She was drawn, sometimes against her will, into him and she was never going to be able to deny it.
He felt her shudder in his arms. “You like that idea, though, don’t you Mina mia?” He asked. “You like the idea of being tied down, helpless, my hands on your body, my lips on every inch of your skin.”
Terrible visions raced through her head—her stretched taut beneath him, his lips on her nipples, on her clit—and the idea of being completely at his mercy excited her more than she ever thought possible. A mewling noise escaped her lips and she could feel a liquid longing pool low in her belly.
“Don’t tease,” she said, surprised at how rough and needy her voice sounded in the empty room. It wasn’t right—he shouldn’t affect her so deeply, make her so wet and needy—but no one ever told Marco Genovese what he could or couldn’t do.
“Tease?” He asked. “You think this is teasing?” His fingers traced paths of fire along her arms and then stroked firmly down her sides, cupping her bottom when he reached it, only to release her so he could start all over again.
Mina pressed herself against him, desperate for contact. “Ye-e-esss…” she hissed as he dragged the tips of his fingers across her rigid nipples. “ I need more. Ple-ease.” Her voice cracked as his hands lifted the hem of her skirt and exposed the tender flesh of her thighs.
Marco stepped forward forcing Mina to step back towards the bed or lose her balance. Another step and the hands had crept higher, each step accompanied by Marco’s uncovering of a new inch of territory, territory that he immediately claimed and conquered.
The quiet whisper of a zipper was magnified a thousand times in the darkness and Mina felt her dress gape and slither off her shoulders, the material parting to expose her overheated skin to the cool room. Insistent fingers crept inside the lacy edge of her bra and she shifted intentionally, sending the fabric floating to the floor.
“So beautiful.” Marco lowered his head, peppering her bosom with kisses. His fingers worked her flesh, plucking and rolling her nipples between them until she couldn’t hold back the sounds of her pleasure.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his hand cupping a breast and squeezing it gently, “Your breasts are perfect. Full and luscious,” he gave a low growl and dropped his mouth to her skin. “They’re so sweet. I just have to taste them.”
Marco flicked his tongue against her nipple, catching it just hard enough to cause a gasp of surprise. He wrapped his lips around it, the heat of his mouth sending shockwaves through her as she shivered in his arms. She could feel her heart pound, beating faster and faster, as he laved and suckled at her. She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, she could only focus on the incredible feelings Marco was unleashing.
She watched him, her eyes tiny slits, as he lavished her breasts with attention. He caught her watching and smiled dangerously, taking a pebbled peak between his teeth and biting down. Mina let out a little shriek, half of surprise and half pleasure, and Marco smiled again as he lightly kissed the tormented bud, soothing the sting and triggering another cascade of shivers that raced across her skin.
“You respond so perfectly to me.” Marco’s words sent a warm feeling of pride to spread through her. “I can’t wait to see you spread out under me.” The banked heat flared and Mina trembled under the onslaught.
“My legs are shaking,” she said with an embarrassed little laugh. She leaned into the strong column of Marco’s neck and buried her face against his skin, breathing in deeply, the scent of him both arousing and comforting.
>
“That’s good,” he whispered, holding her tightly, letting her lean on him for strength. “But I warn you—I don’t intend to let it stop there. My intention is to have your whole body shaking.” Mina’s eyes flew to his face and he dropped a kiss on her surprised lips. Almost as if he’d put her under a spell, her entire body began to quiver, and when her legs threatened to buckle he guided her to the edge of the bed, dropping her softly across the cool coverlet before lowering himself to join her.
It was so different from the last time they’d been in this position. Still fueled by passion, it was grounded in knowledge rather than mystery. Desire burned between them, but it was tempered by experience. Mina wasn’t hungry for knowledge, she was hungry for him,—the whole of him—and she reveled in having him and being had by him.
Marco shifted down the bed, the hands that she’d been fascinated by from the beginning caressing her languidly, drifting across her skin, setting off tremors in her abdominal muscles and waves of goose bumps. She shifted towards him trying to get closer to his heat, but just as she’d feel the rough hair on his arm, or the calloused ridges on his fingertips they’d ghost away leaving her aching for me.
“Touch me,” she said. She raised her arms to wrap around him, but Marco pushed them back down, trailing along lightly in a silent apology as he murmured, “Patience. We have all the time in the world.”
Time dilated and Marco’s every movement took forever. He touched and kissed her, a single possessive swipe of his tongue over a nipple, or into her navel… they added up to a tsunami of sensation, flooding her, making her feel like there was nothing to her but nerves. Nerves that were on fire for him.
Mina moaned, a low vibration in her throat, and Marco moved lower. Her pretty under things were nothing but a memory, stripped away and thrown across the room so he had better access to her, and she gasped as he stroked her slick folds.
“So wet,” he said, his fingers sliding easily over her, “I love that you get this way for me. So excited, so hungry.” His finger dipped deeper, wrenching a cry from her, and she lifted her hips off the bed in a desperate attempt to get more contact.
Making Mina 2: Strings Attached Page 5
