And still, Marco keeps going, I have no idea how. His tongue works over me, and I can feel the rough brush of the stubble on his chin against other parts of me, somehow immensely pleasurable instead of painful. I feel the wave of pleasure growing, higher, higher, reaching up and up until I think I can no longer take it, I can no longer hold on –
And suddenly it spills over me like water, coursing through my whole body, a tingling bliss that extends through all of my limbs, making my hips twitch and pulse, making me light-headed until I slowly come back to myself lying dazed on the pillows, Marco looking up from between my legs with a grin.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Marco
When Hannah emerges from the blissful cocoon of her afterglow, she blinks at me lazily, then sits up. “That was just a taste?” she asks, which makes me laugh.
“Yes, bella. Tomorrow will be even better.” I reach for my phone and fire off a quick text to Fran before I forget, telling her that I confirm all my schedule for the week should be cleared. This is all about Hannah, now.
I grab the pizza box from the side and open it as I rejoin her on the bed, settling myself against the headboard as Hannah also sits upright. Together with our drinks, the pizza makes for a good snack – especially now, after we have both exerted ourselves, even if not in as much of a way as we will tomorrow.
Still, as I eat one of my slices, I can’t help but think no matter how rich the pizza, how deep the wine, none of it tastes as good as her.
I look at her as she eats until she catches on and looks back at me. Then I offer her a smile. I like to watch her. When she eats, she enjoys her food. Not like those women who are so obsessed with staying slim, they don’t even get to be present while they eat.
“Do you need to book anything for tomorrow?” Hannah asks. Her tone is innocent enough, but I know that she’s fishing for information. Trying to get an idea of what I have planned for her.
“No, I don’t need to,” I say, in the same innocent tone, pretending to be interested in my wine as I swirl it and hold it up to the light.
“Oh.” Hannah thinks about that for a moment. I can guess what’s going through her mind, there will be no fancy restaurant and she’s right about that. We’ve already done that, and I’m nowhere near out of new ideas. “Well, how should I dress?”
“In the morning?” I pick an olive off my last slice of pizza and eat it on its own. “Just something comfortable. It doesn’t matter so much. Anyway, I will be here to help you choose.”
“You will?” Hannah looks at me with round eyes.
I chuckle. “Well, I did send the taxi away,” I tell her, then gesture towards the clock. “And by the time we finish digesting this little supper, it will be late. I might as well stay here.”
Hannah is still looking at me with those wide eyes that I could just drown myself in. I can almost see the thoughts running through her mind. “But I thought you said…?”
“We can stay in the same room without having sex,” I tell her, chuckling at her confusion. “Don’t worry. I’m strong enough to keep my hands to myself.”
“Are you sure?” Hannah asks, and whether she intended it to come across as coy or was an innocent question, it still makes me laugh all the same.
Of course, it will be hard. But knowing that I will claim her for myself tomorrow, and only for myself so that she will never know another man makes it bearable.
At least, that’s what I think… until she emerges from the bathroom dressed in her nightgown, which flows over her breasts – freed from a bra – and falls only to just above her knees, casting all kinds of sinful thoughts into my mind.
But for her, I can resist. It’s no longer about my pleasure but about hers, and how much better it will be if she is prepared in the right way. Tomorrow, we begin a journey that will last for the rest of our lives. I will make her mine, bind her to me, and we will be one. That is not something to be undertaken on a whim, at the suggestion of mere lust.
For her, I can wait.
Just not for too long.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Hannah
When I wake up, there is no moment where I forget where I am or who is with me. No, from the moment I lift myself out of dreams, I remember. I know that Marco is here, in my bed with me. I remember seeing him last night, his suit jacket and shirt shucked off and placed neatly over the back of the chair, his bare chest and back, the muscles I have been imagining all of this time almost making my eyes pop out of my head. I could barely believe then that he would make me wait to get my hands on all of that.
But in the end, I didn’t wait – at least, not exactly. Because while I lay there in bed next to him, with the lights off, he scooped me into his arms, my back resting against his chest, and held me there like that all night.
I think it was the most restful sleep I’ve ever had.
Although, what strikes me as I open my
