Page 79 of This Thing of Ours

She scraped her fingernails along his scalp. Fuck that felt good and had his dick needing relief. He fisted the hem of her sweater, pulling it up the length of her back and over her head, dislodging her hands from his hair, but he got them back. Thank fuck.

Her tits were in his face, beckoning him, and he didn’t have the willpower to resist their allure. He traced along their swells with his tongue until, wanting more, she pressed them into him. He captured a nipple in his mouth and bit.

She moaned.

He sucked her through the satin and lace. But he wanted her skin. Her heat. Her scent. Her taste.

He unclasped her bra, shoved the cups down, and cupping the mounds, he feasted.

She squirmed in his lap, and then he lost her as she stood. He watched as she undid her pants and shimmied them over her hips and down her legs, exposing her creamy skin, kicking her shoes off in the process.

He captured her again, tossing her on the bed and covering her with his body, taking her mouth and thrusting in with his tongue.

His hands roamed, followed by his mouth. Over her breasts, down her stomach, to her pussy. She spread her legs, inviting him in and he accepted, licking through her folds and sucking on the nub he found buried within.

The noises she made amped his excitement to the point he thought he’d burst from his slacks if he didn’t do something soon. He got to work freeing himself, taking himself in hand, and without conscious thought, he was sliding inside her, slamming himself in to the hilt.

She arched into his thrust, her legs wrapping around his lower back and his ass.

Fuck, yeah.

He slammed into her over and over. Her legs clamped him. Her hands clutched at him. His hands held fistfuls of the bedding, his arms locked tight.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was too rough, but he didn’t have the willpower to stop.

He heard her scream out his name, and a bright light filled his vision right before everything went black and he collapsed, energy spent.

He came back to himself in fragments.

He heard his harsh breaths mingled with hers and realized all his weight was on her. He rolled to the side, taking Gabriella with him, so she lay more on him than not.

Reaching out a hand, he ran it through her hair to brush it away from her face. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Her eyes were closed and she… purred? That was the best way to describe the sound she made while she stretched, bringing her already close body that much closer. “That was…”

He held his breath, waiting for her to answer. While by far the most intense orgasm he’d ever had—hell he thought he might have even blacked out for a second—he wasn’t sure he’d forgive himself if he’d hurt her.

“Perfect.”

He exhaled and buried his face in her neck while hugging her close.

Yeah, perfect was a fucking perfect way to describe it.

A few hourslater, Marco drove through the gates of Nico’s estate, feeling like shit, unable to get his last minutes with Gabriella out of his head. It hadn’t been a tearfully clingy goodbye. That probably would have been easier to handle. Instead, he got a too short hug and a solemn, “Please be careful,” before she turned her back on him and stepped into the house.

It had taken everything in him not to go in after her. He’d hated leaving her on such a note. Was she mad? Upset? Both? A few minutes into his journey home, unable to resist, he’d tried calling her, but it had gone straight to voicemail, so either her phone had been dead, turned off, or had no signal. He refused to believe she’d been ignoring him.

Even a little banged up, he knew Frankie and Dino would keep the girls safe, but he still had an uneasiness that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He just wished he knew what had put it there.

He looked in his rearview mirror and saw Nico follow him in through the gate. It was nearing midnight, and they probably wouldn’t get much done that night. Not to mention, he was fucking tired and just wanted to crash for a few hours.

A dumpster took up space in the driveway and Marco parked well away from it to wait for Nico to park and get out of his car.

His phone rang, Gabriella’s name flashing on the screen. “Streghetta, everything all right?”

“It just turned midnight. If I couldn’t have a kiss, I wanted your voice to be the first thing I heard in the new year.”

He closed his eyes. Fuck. In all that had happened, he’d forgotten. “I love you, cara mia. We won’t be apart for long.”

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