Page 26 of The Ruin I Chose

And I could feel it—the tension under his skin. Like something old had been stirred awake.

He didn’t say a word. But the way he stayed close, the way his body angled towards mine, told me enough. Whatever I’d stirred in him, it wasn’t done with me.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

His thumb brushed my throat. I glanced up at him, slowly.

“Should I not be?” I said lightly. “You seemed insistent last night.”

The corner of his mouth twitched with something sharper.

“If I’d hurt you—”

“You didn’t,” I cut in, tilting my head, inspecting him like I wasn’t sure whether to behave or provoke. Then, softer:

“If I say no…” I leaned closer, letting my breath ghost his jaw. “…would that stop you?”

His jaw locked, his thumb returned to my throat, tracing slow circles.

“Yes,” he said immediately.

Then, lower. “But it wouldn’t stop me from wanting to.”

Heat pooled fast and unforgiving. I’d meant to tease. I hadn’t meant to feel that exposed. He dropped his hand like it burned and stepped away first, schooling his expression back into stone. The distance was deliberate. Necessary. And suddenly, I understood—it wasn’t the sex that had unsettled him. It was me not flinching.

That morning, he took me to the Vatican. He didn’t speak much, but he held me close—guiding me through the crowds like I was something precious. As he stood beneath the grandeur of St. Peter’s Basilica, making the sign of the cross with reverence, I watched him. I hadn’t expected him to be religious. But he was Catholic—quietly devout, believing in praying.

I leaned in and kissed his cheek, and he stiffened just for a fraction, before his body softened against mine. And something inside me stilled.

We caught a glimpse of the Pope from afar—a thrill that lit up my face. I pointed out places from the movie Angels and Demons, my voice animated, eyes sparkling.

Marcello smiled and guided me through the Sistine Chapel, explaining the frescoes, the symbolism, the silence. I listened intently, my hand in his, looking at him like he was something sacred.

Later, we stopped at a tiny trattoria tucked into a cobbled alley. We shared a plate of pasta and two scoops of gelato—hazelnut and pistachio. I dragged my tongue slowly across the cool creaminess of the gelato. His eyes locked on my mouth like he wanted to fuck it. My body lit up with anticipation of thinking just that. I still didn’t know what he tasted like.

I licked again, letting the cold drip onto my lip, then caught it with my tongue. His jaw clenched. His gaze darkened. The one that said: behave, or I’ll ruin you.

“What?” I teased.

Marcello leaned in, and dragged a thumb across my lips, wiping the gelato, then let his tongue linger on his thumb—like he was tasting ownership. I knew that look now. The one that made my knees weak and my pulse race. But I also knew how quickly it could vanish. How easily desire could masquerade as care.

“Keep teasing me,” he growled, “and I’ll bend you over this table and fuck you till you forget your name.”

My pulse spiked, my thighs clenched reflexively, and I knew my composure was already gone. My whole body tingled. My breath hitched. I got up, looked at him over my shoulder, licked slowly, then ran off with a shriek.

It was fun. Playful. Flirtation laced with fire. Even as we laughed and chased, part of me shivered—small, exposed, yet craving the danger of his touch. He chased after me, pulled me into an empty alley, and kissed me.

“Umm… this flavour tastes better. Gimme another bite,” he teased.

I bit into the cone, then met his lips, letting him taste me and the gelato. His hand lingered, brushing over curves I barely knew were mine, making me ache in ways both thrilling and frightening. Slowly, it slid from my thighs to the lace of my panties.

“How about a taste of this too?”

His fingers slid past the lace, found me soaked. He pushed in slowly, knuckle-deep—then pulled out and sucked it clean.

“Sweet,” he murmured. “Want more.”

I nearly collapsed. My panties were ruined. My thighs slick, but I didn’t care. I flushed crimson—breath caught. He kissed my neck, then pulled me out of the alley.