“Marco ...” I moaned his name, and he caught it with his mouth.
“You’ll be saying that plenty before I’m done with you.”
It had been so long since I’d let myselfwantlike this. Since I’d been this reckless, this willing to lose myself in someone else’s hands. But Marco didn’t just make me want. He made me desperate.
I pulled his belt free, the soft clink of metal the only sound between us aside from my ragged breathing. My fingers shook—not from nerves, but from hunger. From the way he looked at me like he was letting me play along just to see how long I’d last before I caved completely.
His breath fanned my jaw as I worked the button of his pants. “Go on then.”
I swallowed hard, slipping my hand inside and finding him. Hard. Thick. More than I was prepared for, and yet I knew I’d take every inch.
Marco’s head tilted back, the muscles in his jaw tightening as I wrapped my fingers around him. But he didn’t react like most men did.
I wasn’t used to that.
Men always cracked first.
Marco wasn’t cracking.
I sucked in a sharp breath as I lowered myself onto him. I couldn’t lower myself all the way just yet.
My fingers dug into his shoulders, trying to find something to hold onto—something to keep me grounded while every nerve in my body lit up. His jaw ticked, grip flexing against my waist. His hand slid into my hair, pulling my head back.
“Do you like being a fucking tease?”
A sharp gasp tore from my lips as he yanked me down the rest of the way, seating me fully, exactly where he wanted me. My breath stuttered, fingers clenching harder into his shoulders, nails digging into his skin through his shirt.
I sucked in a breath, still adjusting, still trying to process how he felt—how deep he was; how overwhelming it was to have him everywhere, pressing into every part of me.
“Marco, slow,” I demanded.
“Slow?” he murmured, tilting his head like he was considering it. Like he actually had the patience for that.
I sucked in another sharp breath, my thighs tightening around him. “Marco.”
He smirked, hands dragging up my spine, steadying me even as he pretended to ignore the way I was struggling to take him.
“Don’t pout, Valentina,” he said smoothly. “You wanted this.”
His words sent a fresh wave of heat straight through me. He was right. I did. But it didn’t mean I wouldn’t fight him on it.
“You’re such a?—”
Marco shifted his hips once—just enough. Just to shut me up.
I choked on the rest of my sentence, my head falling forward onto his shoulder.
His hand slid up my back, tangling in my hair again, tugging just enough to tilt my head back and force me to look at him. His eyes were dark, burning, taking in every shaky breath, everylittle reaction, memorizing them as if he’d use them against me later.
“Not so mouthy now, are you?”
“I hate you,” I said, pulling his lips to mine as I continued to move my hips against him.
“You can hate me and fuck me,” he murmured, his breath hot against my mouth. “Seems like you’re good at both.”
I gasped, nails raking against his shoulders, because he wasn’t wrong. I did hate him. I hated how easily he got under my skin, how effortlessly he saw right through me, how he knew exactly what to say to leave me breathless. And I hated that even now, with him deep inside me, his fingers digging into my waist like he was branding me, he still had the upper hand.
His hips snapped up, meeting mine, forcing a moan from my lips that he swallowed with a groan of his own. He didn’t even know I was on birth control. Did he do this with other girls?
