‘And what do you know about love, Marco?’
She could sense him hesitate at first. ‘I know it’s often unexpected and can’t be planned. It makes you laugh and cry, and sometimes at the same time. It’s joyful and caring, and catches you when you’re not ready. Or looking. It can be scary and overwhelming, but it is a gift. Life’s most perfect gift.’ He drew in a deep breath, then added, ‘Sometimes, it’s not returned. And . . . I have come to accept that.’ He placed the book he was holding back on the shelf. Taking Stella’s hands into his, she felt the intensity of his gaze pull her closer. ‘We don’t get to choose love.No. It chooses us.’
Little did Stella know, but the title she had plucked from Marco’s collection was his favourite:L’amore Tra le Stelle;Love Among the Stars. Written on the inside cover, hidden from the world, was a handwritten inscription left by Giuditta for her baby son. He would know what it meant when the time was right:L’amore si trova tra le stelle, Mamma.
‘Have you ever loved anyone like that?’ With her hands wrapped around his wrists, Stella could feel the thump of Marco’s pulse increase.
He looked down at her intently, and Stella suddenly felt as if the magnetic energy he exuded were enveloping her. ‘One.’ He held up a finger. ‘She found me at the Campo de’ Fiori market. With a paintbrush in her hand.’
That was all it took.
Stella’s world came tumbling down around her. Her heart throbbed with an intoxicating mix of relief and joy, and she felt her chest drop with the pull of reassurance.
‘R-really?’ she stammered, as her fumbling fingers found the sides of her face.
His hands steadied themselves on her thighs. ‘Sì, Stella.’
She wanted to remember him just like this. Just as they were. With only inches between them, she couldn’t help but lose herself in his all-consuming stare. It was as if he were trying to restrain a wild force, a rush of passion, and she felt as if his eyes were searching hers for the same sentiment.
Stella reached across and stroked the side of Marco’s cheek with the back of her hand. She instinctively wanted to placate and ease the edge of the unknown which had tinted the pockets under his eyes.
She leaned closer, narrowing the most delicate space between them, and rested her forehead against his. Feeling his counterbalance steadied her, and she let the tip of her nose graze Marco’s.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she said, ‘I feel it too.’
All she could sense was warmth. From his hands on her thighs, from his chest, from his breath. Stella noticed how the olive hue to Marco’s skin seemed to grow deeper in the low light of the bedroom, enrichened by the shadows born from their closeness.
‘Sicura?’ he asked.
She nodded gently as his head turned to drop a series of kisses across her cheek, edging their way closer to her expectant lips. His touch, tender and soft, ignited a fire at her core, and it pulsated with yearning for him.
This is it. This is what it’s meant to feel like.
As Marco’s lips flitted against hers, she felt the air draw from her lungs. Hanging precariously between desire and assent, Stella pressed her torso against his, earning a gentle, indulgent moan in return.
Feeling Marco suddenly tense in her arms, she watched as he pulled back slightly, and the air and void between them seemed heightened by the look of his now concerned brow.
‘Stella . . .’ he began, and he gave his bottom lip a contemplative bite.
Her hands returned to his cheeks. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘As much as I . . . I’m not sure . . .’ He pulled her close again, and the vibrato which punctuated his steeling exhale suddenly cast doubts in Stella’s mind. ‘Is this the best idea? Tonight? You’ve been through so much.’
Stella placed a reassuring hand on his chest and, with a nod of her head, coaxed him to sit a little further back on the edge of the bed. Flicking her left leg over his, she straddled him and wrapped her arms around the back of his neck.
‘You, Marco Luna, are incredible. Even now, you are more concerned about caring for me than anything else.’ She tousled a lock of his wavy hair through her fingers and exhaled a little settling breath. ‘Don’t worry about me. Let’s just focus on us. And this moment.’ She noted how his eyes darted across hers, perhaps searching for any trace of fragility. But she was unwavering. Renewed.
‘All I want, Stella, is you,’ he replied.
Cradling the back of his head in her hands, Stella pulled Marco closer, as close as was possible, until their lips met. She felt his previous tentativeness recede, replaced by a fervent hold on her waist. Marco’s kiss was tender and gentle at first, but within moments it gave way to his long-muted desire for her, and she could feel his body respond beneath her weight.
Eventually, she pulled away just long enough to remove her jumper and t-shirt. There, across Marco’s lap, wearing jeans and a jade green lace bra, Stella set him alight.
As if in slow motion, Stella watched as Marco reached across and flicked her fringe from her eyes, then allowed his hand to rest gently on her right lacy breast. On an inhale, her chest rose to meet his hold, and the permission she sent through her gesture encouraged him to unhook the bra with his spare hand.
Feeling Marco catch her naked torso in a tight embrace, she felt secure and warm. This was Marco. His gentleness and sensitivity permeated every thread of his existence. Even down to the tips of his fingers, which knew how to caress and touch with the same genuine selflessness. Unlike the hands that had come before his, Marco’s touch was all about Stella and her needs.
Nuzzling into the side of his neck, Stella relished how his fingers traced lingering lines up and down her spine. She could feel her skin dot with goosebumps under his touch.
