Marcella knew he would have a good body from the times when he had held her. He was leanly muscled, the kind of build that came from training to fight, not being in a gym.
Her mouth watered as her eyes followed the dark trail of hair across his chest and down into his pants. Blood had seeped through his shirt, and she carefully wiped it away.
"I don't want any of that bastard on you," Marcella said, her voice as shaky as her hands. She studied his ink over his left ribs, and her heart skipped when she saw how much it was like the one on her ankle.
"This is a surprise. I didn't think you would be the tattoo type." It was of skulls and roses surrounding a scroll that said,Memento Mori. Memento Vivere. She ran her fingers over it. "Remember, you will die. Remember to live. Usually, people forget the second half."
"I had it done after I came out of the walking coma I was in for the first year after my wife died. I had to have a reminder that living was more than just being alive. I had to get out of bed every day, try to be a good father to my boys, find things to be passionate about again," Cosimo replied, his fingers moving to twist gently in her tumble of loose curls. "I didn't think I would be lucky enough to feel anything for anyone again."
"You did seem adamant when you said you weren't capable of it," Marcella replied, butterflies dancing in her stomach.
"So were you." Cosimo didn't stop playing with her hair, as if fascinated by its softness.
"I suppose that makes us both idiots then, doesn't it?" she whispered.
They held each other's gaze for a long, tense moment before Cosimo snapped. His mouth crashed down on hers, and she was up in his arms, her hands burrowing in his still-damp hair. His tongue flicked against her lips, and she opened her mouth for him, needing the taste of him. His hands gripped her ass tightly as he carried her out of the bathroom.
They got as far as the room's small dining table, where he set her down on the edge of it. Cosimo's hands moved the sides of her robe apart and slid up the curves of her thighs, making her shake at the feel of his skin against hers.
"Fuck, you are so soft," he growled against her lips. "I want to kiss you everywhere."
Marcella's whole body went hot, wetness flooding her panties. "Then do it."
Cosimo's hands went higher, his teeth lightly grazing her bottom lip in a way that made her whimper.
"I've been losing my mind every time I smell you," he admitted hotly, his mouth moving down to her neck. "You have no idea what you do to me."
He carressed her soft panties, and they both groaned. He moved his fingers under the satin, kissing her deeply again and capturing her moan when he found her wetness.
"Oh, love, you really do need a good fucking, don't you?" he said, stroking her pussy and circling her clit.
"Fuck...yes," she managed to pant out, her legs tightening around him. He had barely begun, and she was already feeling like she was going to embarrass herself by coming too quickly.
Cosimo's eyes flashed like an animal's, a smug little laugh escaping him. Marcella suddenly remembered the warning that he had a darker side that rarely came out. There was no sign of the gentleman magician tonight, and she fuckinglovedit.
With his other hand, Cosimo gently pushed her back onto the table and undid the tie of her robe. Marcella's hands caught his, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
"What are you trying to hide from me?" he asked, his fingers stroking her again and making her writhe. "You know there's no hiding from me tonight."
"I'm... I'm not as young and as firm as I once was and..." Marcella tried not to feel like an idiot for saying it.
She was usually so confident. She loved her body most days, but she was the only one who got to see it. She was forty-three, and the reality was her skin wasn't as tight and her breasts weren't as high. She had a soft roll of a belly and thighs thatwould always have dimples no matter what she did. All her old insecurities were swamping her.
"Marcella, look at me," Cosimo demanded in the commanding voice that made her pussy clench every time he used it. She forced herself to open her eyes and look at him. "Everything about you is fucking perfect. You are all my dirtiest dreams come to life. When I saw you in that dress tonight, I almost lost my damn mind. You think I'm not going to like a single thing about your body? Woman, the sound of your heels on a floor is enough to drive me to distraction."
"It does?" Marcella had no idea she had that kind of power over him. It was enough that she let go of her robe and nodded to him.
"Everything about you is intoxicating and I'm done trying to fight it."
Cosimo tugged at the tie, and she didn't move to stop him again. The sides slid apart, revealing her breasts and stomach. Seeing his hand still in her black panties made her groan. His eyes trailed over her, going so hot with desire that she bit back a gasp.
"You are a fucking Botticelli goddess come to life," he said reverently. He moved his hand away from her long enough to tear the crotch clean out of her panties. His eyes dropped to her core, and a low growl reverberated through the room. He pressed his fingers into her, making her back arch.
"I'm going to make you feel so good that you never try to hide from me again."
His other hand pressed her back down before cupping one of her large breasts and squeezing it. Marcella's nails scraped against the tabletop, needing something to hang onto but finding nothing. Cosimo's hand slid over her belly to her hip.
"I see these fucking curves every time I close my eyes," he admitted, thrusting his fingers slowly and deeply inside of her pussy. "I want to live between these thighs."
