Page 61 of This Thing of Ours

“What, streghetta?” She got his eyes as he raised his head.

She wasn’t sure, only knew she needed him. “Touch me, please.”

Getting up on an elbow, he rolled to the side. “Here?” His hand dipped under the waistband of her leggings, a finger landing on her clit. She jolted at the contact. He circled it a few times, and she shamelessly let her legs fall open. “Or here?” His fingers moved down through her folds and found her opening. He entered a finger into her slowly before pulling it out and doing it again.

“Both,” she panted, tipping her head back and closing her eyes.

She heard a small chuckle before an amused, “Greedy girl.”

And she supposed she was because she wanted more.

And more.

And more.

“How about this? I think you’ll like this.”

In a blink, his fingers were gone, but before she could protest, he was ripping her pants down her legs, not bothering to finish the job, leaving them trapped around her ankles.

She felt his mouth on her then and the wet heat of his tongue. She got his finger back, and it moved in and out of her, working in time with his mouth.

She squirmed as the tingles built, turning into a growing ache.

Warm heat. Slick, wet tongue. Firm lips. The sensations were almost too much.

Her fingers found his hair, her hands tugging his head closer. Grinding herself against his mouth, her body begged for something she couldn’t put into words. But she did vocalize it, moaning and whimpering in frustration and need.

His finger moved faster, hitting some spot that had her hips gyrating. She kicked off her pants, planting the soles of her feet on the bed for leverage, growing frantic.

Marco raised his head. “You gonna come?”

“I’m so close.”

His hand palmed her breast, squeezing it once before his fingers found her nipple. His mouth fell back down to her clit. He pinched and sucked in unison, and that was all it took to send her over the edge.

She shattered.

Mind-numbing, toe-curling ecstasy rippled through her, and she shouted his name, her whole body going taut before turning to jello as she fell back limply on the bed.

His movements slowed before they stilled. Then he was gone, standing at the side of the bed, stripping out of his slacks. How did she not realize he still had them on? Her eyes traced all the contours of his working muscles. The bulge of his pecks. The rippling of his abs. Gauze still encircled his forearm, the white stark against the olive of his skin.

He slid both his slacks and underwear over his hips, and Gabby wasn’t ashamed to admit she looked her fill as he dropped his pants down his legs, kicking them to the side. She’d never seen a man completely naked before in real life, and she was curiously intrigued. Hard, long, and thick, his penis jutted out proudly from a thatch of springy dark curls.

The view didn’t last long as he placed a knee to the bed, kissing up the length of her stomach, between her breasts, and to her neck as his hips settled between her legs, the hard thickness of him against her inner thigh. His hands on either side of her supported most of his weight, push-up style.

“Last chance, cara mia. I slide home, and you’re mine forever.”

She looked into his eyes and knew he wasn’t feeding her a line. He truly meant that. “Forever sounds perfect.”

He didn’t give her any time to dwell before she felt him nudging her entrance, but he did slide in slowly, giving her a chance to adjust.

She felt a prick of pain, and he stilled, lowering his face, his lips brushing hers when he said, “I’m sorry, baby,” as he thrust forward, his mouth covering hers to capture her cry.

He didn’t move, and she was thankful for that. All she felt was fullness and stinging pain.

Getting to his elbows so his hands could cradle her face, he asked, “You okay?”

She tipped her head in a small nod.

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