“You get off on your own name, lawyer?”
He smiled against my neck. “Only when you say it.”
“Didn’t know you had an ego kink.”
“You’d know all about kinks, wouldn’t you?”
I moved under him and straddled his lap on the edge of the bed. “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
His hands were everywhere. Roaming my back, grabbing my ass, holding me tighter. “Tell me, Valentina,” he murmured, dragging his mouth down my neck. “What gets you off?”
“Not lawyers, that’s for sure.”
His fingers hooked the string of my underwear and pulled it to the side.
What was I doing?
I waslying.
I wanted him to find out for himself. I could see the hunger in his eyes. Then he slid a finger into me. I grabbed onto his shoulder, wanting to melt into his touch.
“And yet here you are, straddling one,” he mused, pushing another finger inside. “Soaked for one.”
I was. For him.
But I didn’t want him to know, so I said, “That’s what happens when I think of someone else.”
“Tell me his name then,” he said.
I clenched my jaw, refusing to react. Refusing to give him what he wanted.
Marco hummed, dragging his fingers back just enough to make me feel the loss. “Go on,” he murmured.
I swallowed hard. I hated that he knew exactly what he was doing; that he was so damn confident, so sure of himself. He wasn’t just challenging me—he was calling my bluff. Daring me to follow through on the lie.
I dug my fingers into his shoulder. “You’re an ass.”
“That’s not a name, Valentina.”
I rolled my hips, searching for friction, trying to pull him back in, but he held still. His fingers stayed right where they were—just barely inside me. Not enough. Notnearlyenough.
“Say it,” he murmured, his lips grazing my jaw, his breath hot against my skin.
I clenched my teeth, refusing to give him anything.
And then, without warning, his fingers curled inside me, pressing exactly where I needed. I gasped, my head falling forward and my forehead nearly knocking into his.
He caught my chin between his fingers, forcing me to look at him. His dark eyes were steady, full of quiet arrogance, of certainty, of something deeper—something that said he already knew exactly how this would end.
“There’s no one else,” he said like a warning.
I swallowed hard, my pulse slamming against my ribs.
Marco’s lips brushed against mine, teasing, just barely there. “Next time you lie to me,” he murmured, “make it believable.”
Then his fingers pushed deeper, and I lost any hope of thinking at all.
I was easy for him. Already on the edge. I could feel my core tightening, bringing me to desperation.
