Page 32 of Allure
“Turn around so I can put it on you.” Marco’s voice was rough, and she looked up at him, her breath getting caught in her throat. She wanted to say something—anything—to dispel whatever was in the air that pushed her closer to him, but she could do nothing but heed his command.
She turned just as someone—whom she assumed owned the castle—started asking everyone to settle their conversations. Syra tried to focus on what the woman was saying, but as soon as she felt Marco’s hands in her hair, gently wrapping it up and placing it on top of her head, she tuned everything else out but the feel of him behind her.
His sure fingers massaged her scalp, and she bit her lip to keep from moaning in the quiet room. She closed her eyes the second his lips were by her ear, and she felt his breath warm her overheated skin. “This dress reminds me of what you wore that night at the club,” he murmured. “All this skin teasing me and driving me crazy while we danced. I wanted to fuck you on the dance floor, Syra. I wanted everyone to know you were mine.” His lips pressed against her thundering pulse and her breath hitched. “At least for the night.”
She felt the soft material cover her face—reminding her of when Marco had kept her blindfolded, cutting off her sense of sight to heighten everything else, like his touch against her skin. He played her body in the perfect rhythm of an experienced lover—as if she had been crafted specifically for him and no time or distance could erase the way he could command her body with a simple touch and a soft-spoken word.
He tugged her hair, letting it fall back down her back after he secured the mask. He gently turned her around, and she struggled to open her eyes. She felt herself grow wetter as his touch lingered against her arm.
“Exquisite.” Marco’s voice was gruff as his fingers trailed up her arm and toward her neck again. His hand wrapped around her throat, tilting her head up and she let him. She loved the feel and look of his hand on her neck—it used to be her favorite accessory.
Every warning her mind screamed, her body shoved in a box and told it to be quiet. She knew she should put a stop to the way he touched her. She needed to be strong in the boundaries she set in place, but she couldn’t remember why she wanted them there to begin with. Marco had never touched her in anger, never hurled hurtful words at her or sneaky underhanded comments that were planted to grow trees of doubts and insecurity. Even when he fucked her with possession, his touch had been gentle, consuming, loving. When they argued, he was kind and understanding.
And you gave all that up for a love that might not have been love in the first place.
Syra ignored that telling thought and focused on the man in front of her. She looked into his green eyes, the brown flecks seemed darker in this lighting, and she saw all the desire he still had for her. There was a bit of anger blanketed around the lust, but it didn’t scare her as much as it should have.
“When I saw this mask, I instantly thought of you.” He leaned in, bringing his lips closer to hers. “The silver threaded through the black reminds me of a constellation of stars in the night sky.” He pressed his body closer to hers, and she struggled to breathe as his grip on her neck tightened.
Her heart hammered in her chest as her pulse beat wildly against his fingers. A normal person might have had the good sense to be alarmed that he was playing with her ability to breathe, but all she could do was smile up at him as he squeezed tighter.
“Just like the way your eyes remind me of the stars in the sky.” She let out a low gasp when she felt his other hand against her hip—against the spot where she had the tattoo of stars inked into her skin.
His stars.
Syra whimpered his name the second he let up on the pressure at her throat. She thought he was pulling away, and it was on the tip of her tongue to beg him to touch her where she needed him most.
“Mi estrellita, what did I tell you about saying my name like that?” He pushed his hips into her, her eyes widening at the feel of his thick erection against her stomach. “Saying my name like a prayer seeking absolution won’t find you the salvation you seek.” He kept rocking into her as he squeezed her neck again, driving her crazy. “Especially when this is supposed to be a professional relationship.”
Abruptly, Marco pulled away from her. She staggered on her feet as she struggled to get her bearings and her pulse under control. She looked around, noticing the room had significantly thinned out, and she realized she missed the speech the owner had given the guests. She glared at him, hoping she didn’t miss anything important and was irritated to see that he stood relaxed, seemingly unaffected by his touch on her skin. If it wasn’t for the erection she saw outlined in his pants, she would have assumed this attraction—this need—was one-sided.
“That was mean.” She tried to sound angry, but her voice came out breathless.
Marco shrugged. “Was it? I thought I was doing you a favor by stopping before we crossed the line. Business only, remember? I won’t fuck you till you ask, Syra.” He took a step closer, eating up the distance between them. He maneuvered them so her back was flush against the wall she had imagined painting on. “Are you asking me to fuck you?” he growled, and she hated how wet her pussy got at his words—it was raising a white flag, willingly surrendering itself to him.
She jutted her chin up and crossed her arms over her chest, trying to steel her body’s reaction toward him. “I’m not and I won’t ask, Marco. Our time has come and gone.” She was proud at how steady her voice was.
He smirked but didn’t say anything and she shoved at him. He backed up, not bothering to conceal his laughter, and it made her want to hit him. “You’re not as funny as you think you are,” she grumbled.
His smile reached his eyes as he looked at her, and she felt her heart trip over itself. He looked a lot like the man she once knew. The one who filled her days with as much laughter as orgasms. He looked youthful when he smiled—relaxed—and it was a dangerous combination with him in the suit. She meant it when she told him their relationship could only be regulated to the building of Sirens, but she had a feeling she was going to be the first one to break her own rules.
“Are we waiting for Kat and Delilah? What about Asli?” Syra asked, trying to get herself to focus on the reason they were actually here at Orchard Tree.
“Ms. Santiago and Ms. Lopez are already here and have moved on to the other rooms. Asli is otherwise engaged, but we’ll see him later.” Something in the way he said Asli was otherwise engaged sent a shiver down her spine, and her pulse quickened for a different reason she wanted to ignore.
“Why don’t you call my friends by their first name, and does that mean I’m stuck with you exploring this castle?” Her voice shook, wondering if she would be able to keep her hands to herself while they explored all the rooms.
“Because your friends are currently working relationships, and I don’t know them well enough yet.” He held out his hand for her and she cautiously eyed it. “And, yes, we’re doing the buddy system tonight, estrellita.” His smile was a wicked promise that sent a chill across her skin.
Syra felt in her bones that if she took his hand tonight she’d be inviting in a past that was still alive and well between them. They’d fall back into old patterns and live out things they hadn’t gotten a chance to experience with each other when they were together.
She knew she should hold back, and she hesitated. Some part of her urged her to proceed with caution, and she wanted to listen to it, but something overrode it when she tentatively put her hand in his, feeling like they had just signed some deal she hadn’t been aware of.
“Excellent.” Marco tugged her to his side and pressed his lips against her ear. “I have the perfect room for us to check out, estrellita.”
They made their way through the main lobby, and she let him lead her through the maze of the castle. She briefly wondered how much of tonight was actually for Sirens and how much was for him to get his way with her.
And why wasn’t I more upset that he was manipulating me again?
