“You told me that what I saw in that room,” she paused. The words were awkward extensions of her thoughts, but she had to make him understand. “You said it wasn’t real.”
Marco shook his head with such force that it was a full-body denial. “It wasn’t. None of it was real.” He slid roughly up her arms and cupped her face, lifting her chin in his hands. “I swear to you. I want no one but you.”
She wet her lips and watched Marco’s eyes follow the path left by her tongue. “Prove it.”
Black eyes snapped to hers, his body suddenly still. “Prove what? That I want you?” He pulled her closer and she felt the heavy hardness of his erection as it pressed against her. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Mina’s feminine ego basked in the attention, thrilled at how open he was about her effect on him, but that wasn’t what she was aiming for. She rolled her hips against him, feeling another flash of satisfaction as he closed his eyes, and she watched control himself by sheer force of will.
“That’s part of it,” she admitted, “but not nearly enough.” She took his hand and led him further into the house. Silent steps carried them along the same path that she remembered from the last time she was here… through the foyer, through the hall, towards the stairs, and finally… into his office.
It looked the same, but there were papers scattered on the floor, and the chair that sat behind the desk was pulled out where he must have pushed it when he chased after her. It was more proof of his story, that he followed her, wanted her, cared for her… loved her… but every time she thought of this room she thought of her pain and she refused to build a shrine to it. She would knock it down and replace it.
She dropped his hand and crossed the space towards the desk. She dragged a finger across its polished surface, a twist of her lips the only sign of how she felt. “Every time I thought of you in here with her it started with the kiss I saw, but it turned into more.” She looked at him across the expanse of mahogany. “I imagined you in here with her, leaning over her, kissing her,” she forced herself to say it, “fucking her.”
She walked around the desk and took a stand. “We’d spent so many hours behind that desk making plans for the exhibit. I cherished the time we spent in here and it was ruined-by her.” Anger made the words easier. “She took something from me, and I want it back.”
Marco watched her carefully, a glimmer of understanding beginning to shine.
“If I am going to be in this house, in your life, I don’t want that to be what I think of-what you think of-when we step into this room.” She looked him in the eye, the challenge clear. “I want you to erase it. Erase it and make me forget it ever happened.”
Mina could have lit a match with the heat that flared between them. The wariness that Marco had been watching her with was tinged with disbelief. He took one step, and then another, until he had her pressed back against the edge of the desk. His eyes were dilated, the pupils huge and black, and she had to fight from losing herself in them.
“You want me to make you forget?” His words were mild, but they shook her to her soles. She gave an awkward nod, “Yes. Prove she didn’t mean anything. Make me believe it.” She swallowed hard. “I need to believe it.”
Marco’s breath was hot on her cheek making her shiver, and her head lolled back, suddenly too heavy for her neck to support. The opportunity was too much to ignore and she jumped as he lowered his mouth to the fluttering pulse at the base of her throat. His tongue pressed against it, teeth grazing against the tendon protecting it, and she let out a hissing breath.
“Oh yes,” the whispered words washed across her, his desire an almost physical force, “I will make you believe.”
Mina shuddered in his arms, and relaxed into his embrace, trusting him in a way she’d never trusted anyone.
“Do you want it to be slow and gentle? Shall I worship your body-stretch you out and burn the truth into you one kiss, one lick, one consuming inch at a time?” His hands closed over her breasts, his thumbs rubbing over her nipples, and she moaned deep in her throat. “Or should I take you hard and fast, pounding the doubt from you, imbedding myself into your every pore?”
There was gravel in his voice and Mina felt his erection hard against her thigh. The sensation of him pressed tight against her front and the unforgiving surface of the desk against her back was an incredible juxtaposition-one force hard and hot, and the other hard and cold, both pushing every nerve ending to its limit.
“Which should it be?” He pushed her t-shirt up over her stomach, the muscles there rippling as his fingers glided over them, and flicked open the front clasp of her bra. The cold air of the room made her already hard nipples tighten even further. He cupped her breast in his hand and watched her face as he replaced his fingers with his mouth. One suck, then another, the sensation bordered on pain as he pulled her further into the hot cavern of his mouth, until she was balancing on the razor’s edge, and then he released her. “Gentle hasn’t convinced you yet,” there was no bitterness in it when he said it, but she knew it was true. “So hard it is.”
Before the words could register he’d pulled her upright, stripping her shirt and bra in one movement, his vaunted control a thing of the past.
His hands were everywhere, squeezing, pinching, stroking, and Mina felt her emotions building up along with the sensations. Her pants joined the rest of her clothes on the floor and Marco moved between her legs, his body spreading her legs as he stared down at her.
His eyes were black as coal and burned as they traveled over her, possessiveness in every line of his face.
“You have no idea,” he whispered, his voice raw with need, “Now idea how I’ve dreamed of having you spread out like this, so I can take every piece of you.” He peppered her body with kisses, his fingers burning trails across her breasts. “I didn’t want to frighten you-wanted you to want me as much as I wanted you, but there’s no time for that now.”
He slid one hand down, past her belly, over her hips, until he could slip it between her legs. Mina felt it settle there and let out a gasp of pleasure as Marco pressed it against her. It was so close to what she wanted, but not enough-not nearly enough. She wanted his mouth on her, his fingers inside her, and she squirmed against him with a wordless plea for more.
“Nothing else matters-Mamma, Giovanni, the collection… they can all burn in Hell for all I care-the only thing that matters is that you are here and mine!”
He slipped a finger between her swollen labia, and dragged the wetness he found there higher until he could paint her clit with it. With a rough laugh he moved down and rested his head against her inner thigh, his breath hot on her aching flesh. Mina panted, arching up against him, the cold wood of the desk searing against her feverish skin.
“Please,” she begged, pushing against him as he held her open. Another rumble of satisfaction came from him and when Mina finally thought she’d scream from frustration, he closed his mouth on her and plunged his wandering finger deep inside.
The sensation was overwhelming, and her body bowed, arching up off the desk as a tidal wave of sensation and emotion burst over her. Marco never stopped, his elegant fingers plundering her depths, his tongue latched onto her, sucking and licking as she bucked against him. His eyes never closed, and she knew he was watching her responses, drinking in her abandon as he drank her essence. His whole attention was fixed on her-all that mattered was her. She felt her muscles clenching in waves, leaving her aching with the need to have him fill her emptiness.
“Need you.” Her voice was ragged, her breathing so heavy that her mouth was completely dried out. She forced herself to swallow, and tried again. “I need you. Please.”
Marco didn’t answer, his eyes still focused on her body, watching as her pussy spasmed around his fingers. He worked them in and out, occasionally reaching out and swiping against her over-stimulatedclit with his tongue.