her along, the maneuvering of doors and cars mere ghosts of interference, his only goal to have her—his, only his, in his house, in his arms, in his bed.
Chapter Six
The night had turned cool, and Mina shivered as she fought the waves of desire that threatened to suffocate her and she reached a hand out to him. A lost look—full of longing—was on her face and his body tightened in need. He gripped the steering-wheel tighter, needing something concrete to keep him focused.
“Don’t,” Marco gritted out and her eyes flashed up at him in surprise. She turned to him, swimming through layers of sensation—the breeze through the open windows, the heat of him, the tingling of her skin. “Marco?” She didn’t understand; she just wanted him.
“ Dio Santo ! Don’t look at me like that,” he said, eyes flickering between her and the road. “I am at the edge of my control, and unless you want me to pull over and take you right now, you won’t tease. There is only so much a man can take, Mina mia .”
She wasn’t teasing. She wanted him badly—almost enough to agree to whatever impulse was riding him—but she heard the warning in his voice and knew enough to respect it.
Marco drove too fast, the expensive engine responding to his every demand, and Mina couldn’t help but draw parallels to how he managed to wring such a response from everything he touched. She looked at him, his eyes glittering in the light from the dash, his jaw tight as he sped through town, and she ached to have that focus on her.
When they reached the building, Marco pulled a fob out of his pocket and summoned an express elevator, unwilling to wait for the regular one.
I guess I still won’t have had sex in an elevator , she thought a little wildly.
“Not now,” Marco said, a wolfish grin on his face as he pressed her against the cold wall of the elevator. “Maybe tomorrow.”
His hands traced lines of fire across her skin, until he cupped her face in them, lifting her lips for his kiss.
“Almost,” he touched her lips with his and she gasped at the sensation, “home.” His mouth covered hers, his tongue demanding entrance. He teased the tender flesh inside her lower lip, nipping at the surface, and then lightly gliding across it to soothe the sting.
The elevator chime rang, and Mina’s knees weakened as she realized they’d arrived. The world spun in a dizzying arc as strong arms swung her up and carried her, through the hall, through the living areas, cutting through the darkness and homing in on the door—the door that had taunted her all week—and the bedroom beyond, the vision of it bringing back memories of all the pleasure that existed there before.
Whispered words washed across her in a constant stream, and she grabbed each on and held it tightly to her heart.
“Mine,” Marco said it for the thousandth time and Mina shuddered at the dark determination in his voice.
“Yours.” The single word fell from her lips and she could feel its weight as it landed between them.
Mina’s senses were in overdrive. She was aware of the warmth of Marco’s skin, the taut muscles of the arms holding her so easily, and the intoxicating scent of his cologne and that subtle spice that was just him . She was weak now—tired of standing alone—and she leaned on him, just as he wanted her to. His grip relaxed and he shifted her slightly, allowing her weight to drag her down across the hard planes of his body. His heart beat heavily beneath her cheek, his breath rasped in her ear, and she shivered in anticipation as she felt his arousal pressed tightly against her.
She rolled her head to one side, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. She was touching him, but she felt like she was so alone, so far from him, that she needed to wrap herself in him, or die trying. Marco groaned in the darkness and she smiled, a terrible, feminine smile of
Chapter Six
The night had turned cool, and Mina shivered as she fought the waves of desire that threatened to suffocate her and she reached a hand out to him. A lost look—full of longing—was on her face and his body tightened in need. He gripped the steering-wheel tighter, needing something concrete to keep him focused.
“Don’t,” Marco gritted out and her eyes flashed up at him in surprise. She turned to him, swimming through layers of sensation—the breeze through the open windows, the heat of him, the tingling of her skin. “Marco?” She didn’t understand; she just wanted him.
“ Dio Santo ! Don’t look at me like that,” he said, eyes flickering between her and the road. “I am at the edge of my control, and unless you want me to pull over and take you right now, you won’t tease. There is only so much a man can take, Mina mia .”
She wasn’t teasing. She wanted him badly—almost enough to agree to whatever impulse was riding him—but she heard the warning in his voice and knew enough to respect it.
Marco drove too fast, the expensive engine responding to his every demand, and Mina couldn’t help but draw parallels to how he managed to wring such a response from everything he touched. She looked at him, his eyes glittering in the light from the dash, his jaw tight as he sped through town, and she ached to have that focus on her.
When they reached the building, Marco pulled a fob out of his pocket and summoned an express elevator, unwilling to wait for the regular one.
I guess I still won’t have had sex in an elevator , she thought a little wildly.
“Not now,” Marco said, a wolfish grin on his face as he pressed her against the cold wall of the elevator. “Maybe tomorrow.”
His hands traced lines of fire across her skin, until he cupped her face in them, lifting her lips for his kiss.
“Almost,” he touched her lips with his and she gasped at the sensation, “home.” His mouth covered hers, his tongue demanding entrance. He teased the tender flesh inside her lower lip, nipping at the surface, and then lightly gliding across it to soothe the sting.
The elevator chime rang, and Mina’s knees weakened as she realized they’d arrived. The world spun in a dizzying arc as strong arms swung her up and carried her, through the hall, through the living areas, cutting through the darkness and homing in on the door—the door that had taunted her all week—and the bedroom beyond, the vision of it bringing back memories of all the pleasure that existed there before.
Whispered words washed across her in a constant stream, and she grabbed each on and held it tightly to her heart.
“Mine,” Marco said it for the thousandth time and Mina shuddered at the dark determination in his voice.
“Yours.” The single word fell from her lips and she could feel its weight as it landed between them.
Mina’s senses were in overdrive. She was aware of the warmth of Marco’s skin, the taut muscles of the arms holding her so easily, and the intoxicating scent of his cologne and that subtle spice that was just him . She was weak now—tired of standing alone—and she leaned on him, just as he wanted her to. His grip relaxed and he shifted her slightly, allowing her weight to drag her down across the hard planes of his body. His heart beat heavily beneath her cheek, his breath rasped in her ear, and she shivered in anticipation as she felt his arousal pressed tightly against her.
She rolled her head to one side, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. She was touching him, but she felt like she was so alone, so far from him, that she needed to wrap herself in him, or die trying. Marco groaned in the darkness and she smiled, a terrible, feminine smile of
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