Chapter Eleven
“Our engagement is fake, but the way you send me into overdrive is all too real,” he said, meaning every damn word. He covered her lips with his, and she opened her mouth to him, granting full access. Delving his tongue inside her, he rejoiced.
Maybe he shouldn’t have told her so much about his life, but she made it all too easy to open up and share. And now, to keep from thinking about the consequences of his own actions, he’d fuck her like he was born to do.
Tongues melded, he slid one hand down her back, caressing the area between her butt cheeks. She shifted on top of him, making it easier for him to knead her plump ass.
Ever since she began touching him, stroking his scalp with vigor, his cock had engorged. A rush of blood traveled south in his body, and every part of him was in complete awareness of her tits rubbing against his chest, her teeth grazing his lower lip.
She disengaged her mouth from his, panting. “Marco, I don’t know if I can last long.”
He kissed her nose. “That should be my line. You’ve been teasing me with your hands for a while. We need to get even.”
She nibbled his jaw, sending currents of electricity through his body. “I’d like to see you try.”
Marco tugged at her hair, bringing her face down so she had to stare at him. Challenge gleamed in her extraordinary green eyes. He maintained the gaze for a moment, without loosening his grip. She moaned, and her nipples rubbed against his chest, the tips hard and tight. Slowly, he dipped his head to close the gap between them, until his face was a breath from hers. She parted her lips in a silent plea for him to end the torture. Too bad he was enjoying the game, even if his cock throbbed painfully.
“Please…” she said, her voice above a whisper.
“What? What did you say?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, pretending he hadn’t heard her.
She lifted her chin to end the distance between them, and he pulled her hair back a bit, pinning her to his complete advantage. She closed her eyes for a moment, and he imagined the sensations overwhelming her.
He loosened his grip on her hair until his hand traveled down her stomach, and soon he inserted two fingers into her wet pussy. She arched toward him, her eyes opening with a start, her breath coming out labored. Lily was like an exotic fruit, delicious and ripe for the taking.
With his other hand, he continued to massage her ass in circular movements, each time his fingers landing closer and closer to her puckered hole. He enjoyed touching her, playing with her, teasing her…making her his.
She pulled his head down, kissing him with fervor, her lips searching, her tongue stroking his without mercy. He added another finger to work her pussy, loving how wet and ready to be fucked she was…all for him. “Marco,” she called, withdrawing her lips from his momentarily. “Keep doing this. Touching me.”
“In the front or the back?”
“Both, babe. Feels so good when you fuck me like that.”
Encouraged, he intensified his thrusting and retreating out of her pussy. If they weren’t surrounded by water, he’d hear the sound of his fingers slapping her each time they entered her snatch or backed away. Now, his arm made little waves around them, and soon water splashed out of the tub, but he didn’t care. He continued the menacing rhythm, dead set on pleasuring her, and at the same time, slipping his index finger into her hole.
She yelped and gave a little jump, but didn’t jerk away. She thrust her hips into his finger, moaning, her eyes half closed. “I want your cock buried inside me,” she said in a voice so raw, so honest, he couldn’t resist.
As much as he wanted to extend their foreplay, he couldn’t. Marco removed his fingers from her pussy and replaced them with his cock, adjusting her position enough so she accommodated him. He should give her complete control this once, and let her set the rhythm, but he didn’t resist. With one hand still squeezing her ass cheeks, he gripped the edge of the tub with the other and began pounding her.
“More,” she whispered.
He moved his finger in her asshole, mimicking how his dick rammed her in and out. Soon, his own world began to collide, a powerful surge of pleasure igniting in his core and spreading all over him. He intensified his claim on her, fucking her deep, making her shake. Her sexy moans filled the air, her neck vein pulsating. Following her cue, he let go, climax drilling through him until a growl was the only sound he managed to produce.
She rested her head on the curve of his neck, still quivering. He pulled his cock out of her, and carefully removed the finger from her back entrance. Kissing the top of her head, he sighed. No matter how much either of them tried to dictate the rhythm of that screw, their desire had become a force of its own.
…
“More coffee?” Lily asked Marco, holding the container.
“No, thanks,” he said, watching her pour some more black liquid into her mug and sit next to him. Damn it. If it’d been up to him, he’d have used the machine in his room and not come to the outdoor terrace to have breakfast with everyone. Thankfully, after a quick round of small talk, his uncles and aunts had left the area to prepare for the day’s activities.
Besides a few distant cousins whose name he didn’t recall right away, they were alone. Most people must have eaten earlier, his grandmother included. He chugged his remaining coffee, and this time the drink rolled thick and cold in his throat. Why was Lily being so nice to him after what he’d said the previous evening? She had proposed, subtly of course, that they still see each other after the end of the contract.
He’d heard that glimmer of hope in her voice. What if she wanted more from him, more than he could give? He’d been honest from the beginning. Maybe she wanted to renew the contract, which would be ludicrous. What else could she possibly want from him after he’d paid her debts and secured her salon?
His gut clenched. Money. She’d need money for advertising to promote her salon. After all, if she didn’t do anything drastic to get more clients, she’d be in a dire situation soon. A monthly allowance, perhaps?
“Hey. What are you thinking about?” she asked, nudging his elbow.
“I’m thinking we should go sightseeing before my cousin gets her claws into you,” he said. What he really wanted to say was how he’d also thought about visiting her salon even after their affair ended. The idea seduced him, slowly, lethal like a poisonous snake carefully dancing her way out of a charmer’s box.
“Sounds great. We can leave after I finish eating,” she said, taking a bite of fette biscotatte, the hard bread smothered in Nutella. “This is delicious.”
“It is,” his brother said behind him, surprising them with his presence. “Nico Giordano,” he said, gazing at Lily.
Lily covered her mouth for a moment, blushing, still eating the pastry, then she quickly swallowed it and said, “Oh. Nice to meet you. I’m Patricia.”
“Patricia. Trust me, the pleasure is all mine.” Nico pulled out a chair and sat. “Hey, brother. You never told me you’d bring your beautiful friend to Nonna’s party.”
“I like to throw a curveball once in a while,” Marco said.
“A hell of a curveball,” Nico said, scratching his five o’clock shadow. “Then Arietta calls me and says you’re engaged. Imagine that. My confirmed bachelor of a brother, getting hitched.”
His throat grew thicker in annoyance. Marco wished he could take his brother into a martial arts studio and solve their differences over there. “I wanted Nonna to be the first one to know.”
“Is that why you didn’t tell me?”
“Yes. Besides, you’re not my mother. I love you, brother, but I don’t need your permission,” Marco said, his voice as firm as his conviction.
Nico hesitated for a moment, probably pondering if fighting Marco was worth it. He settled for a slow nod. “Understood. Well, congratulations to both of you.” Nico smiled.
“Thanks,” Lily said.
“How did you two meet?” Nico asked, darting his gaze from Marco to Lily. “I can’t wait to know all about my future sister-in-law.”
Marco curled his fingers into a ball. The less he told his brother, the better. He didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to know Nico saw through their facade, or at the very least, questioned their relationship. Like Nico gave two shits about how they actually met. “At a bar,” he said. “The rest is history.”
Lily shifted in her seat. “How about you, Nico? Are you seeing anyone?”
“Not currently. You need to tell me the type of bars in New York you’re going to where you’re meeting such gorgeous women. Sorry, I didn’t catch your last name, Patricia.”
“Doors. Patricia Doors.”
Nico frowned. “Interesting.”
Marco pushed his chair and stood up, then swiftly pulled Lily’s out to prompt her to rise as well. “We’ll chat more later. I promised Patricia I’d show her Bellagio today.”
Nico gave her a lingering glance, and Marco could almost see the wheels turning in his brother’s brain. Nico pursed his lips, his neutral expression not fooling Marco for a nanosecond. “Sounds good. See you guys soon.”
He guided her through the house, taking a shortcut to make it out as fast as possible. Once they were inside the car, he let out an exhale. His brother thought he had his back, and if for some reason he didn’t believe their story, Nico wouldn’t rest until he proved his case. Damn him.
“Do you think he bought it?” Lily asked, turning her head around as if to make sure they weren’t being followed.
He chuckled. “This isn’t a spy movie. Relax, Nico isn’t behind us.”
“Does your brother know about your contract shenanigans?”
“I don’t discuss details of my intimacy with him, but he knows I prefer things clearly discussed upfront,” he said. Nico wasn’t exactly the domesticated kind, either. He’d even mentioned once he planned on getting a vasectomy because he didn’t want to inflict pain on his children like his father had done to them.
“Why didn’t you tell him about our fake engagement? You two seem close.”
“Because this is more complicated. If I tell him the truth, he’ll know about the garage. I’ll tell him after everything is said and done.”
“He’ll think you lost it over my heavenly pussy,” she said with amusement.
Marco should have said something and joined the fun, but a growing concern kept him from joking about what had become an almost palpable fear. His obsession over Lily and all her body parts was no laughing matter.
…
They’d spent the morning visiting the historic downtown in the nearby town of Como. With Lily, Marco had looked at the basilicas as if seeing them for the first time. He’d appreciated walking with her along the curvy, winding roads, telling her about the town and the several others in the region. He almost wished they had more time to see more together. Oh, the cities he could show her, not only in Italy. He’d love to bring her to Athens. Sydney. London.
“Are you ready for this?” she asked when he parked in front of the art studio Arietta had suggested they visit. They could balk and leave, but that would only enhance Arietta’s interest in their situation—which, in turn, would add fuel to his brother’s curiosity. Best to deal with the problem up front.
“Yes. We go in, shake some hands, and you say how much you love painting—”
“Sculpting.” She cut him off, rolling her eyes.
“Yes. Of course.”
“Can I confess something?”
“Indulge me.”
She leaned closer, and he caught a whiff of her feminine scent. “I had the highest marks in my sculpting class.”
“Great. So this shouldn’t be so hard.”
He slid out of the car, went around the vehicle, and opened the door for her. She wore a yellow dress that made her look impossibly carefree and young. He wished he could take her in the car, or behind an alley, to address his rising internal temperature. What if he continued to find it increasingly difficult to come to terms with the fact they’d say goodbye in two weeks? Could he let her go? Would he?
She grabbed his hand in hers, an intimate gesture that came naturally to them, and one he’d never really appreciated prior to meeting Lily. Walking hand in hand never seemed like a necessity, especially for an experienced man like himself. He felt her palm sweaty against his. She was nervous about putting on this sculpting act, but not once did she try to convince him to walk away.
They entered the studio, where a plethora of artwork was displayed on small stands. Remarkable canvases for sale hung on the walls, as well as framed photos of famous celebrities who had visited the place. She squeezed his hand, and in response, he made an invisible pattern on her palm with his thumb, hoping the continuous movements soothed her.
She gave him a sideways glance, a mischievous gleam in her eyes like they communicated in their own secret language. A tremor traveled through him.
“There you are!” Arietta called, jerking him out of his thoughts as she strolled up to him from the opposite side of the room. “Come here. The kids are dying to meet Patricia.”
It was his turn to tighten his grasp on Lily’s hand, bringing her closer.
They walked in tandem to the door and found a room where several kids talked vivaciously. When they entered, a few of them continued chatting, but most grew quiet and watched them, Lily especially. What the hell had Arietta promised them to make them so interested in her?
“Ciao,” Lily said, letting go of his hand. “Thanks for the opportunity, Arietta,” she said, giving his cousin a hug.
Arietta’s face froze for a moment, but she quickly recovered and responded to the spontaneous embrace. A wave of pride threaded down his spine. Lily managed to disarm his overbearing cousin in a few seconds. Nice start.
“Thank you for coming, Patricia. They’re thrilled to see you. I told them not to hold their breath because you’re so busy, but they’d love if you showed them some of your skills. Maybe they’ll learn something new from you.” She winked at her.
“Or I’ll learn something new from them.” Lily said, studying the material displayed on the tiled counter next to a big sink. “You do water-based sculptures?”
“Yes. Natala here works at this studio and allows children to visit every month for special classes,” she said, pointing at a young woman with lustrous, long hair.
“Great. Why don’t you have a typical session with them, and I can supervise what they do in a case-by-case basis?”
“Good idea,” Natala said, with a heavy accent. “We’ve been working on vases.”
“Always a good start to do confined shapes,” Lily said.
Natala translated the idea to the children, and a few of the boys kept their gaze on Lily.
“Let’s do this,” Lily said. He knew her well enough to sense a tremble in her voice. What sounded like excitement to others carried a pang of apprehension to him. Regardless, she soldiered on, and soon the children made a line to wet the clay and begin working and playing with it.
His throat thickened. He should walk around and interact with the students, but he only had eyes for Lily. His Lily. What kind of child would he have been if he had a mother like her? What kind of adult would he have turned into—perhaps one less tainted, less objective, more susceptible to society’s idea of normal? A man who didn’t hide behind contracts and the ink of a pen to keep his emotions in check. A braver man.
A little boy with curly blond hair walked up to him, his eyes twitching like he was about to cry. “Sir, can you help me?”
He kneeled to look the kid in the eye. “I’m not great at this stuff, but I can try.”
“I wanted to make a vase for my mom.”
“Then a vase we shall make,” he said, and grabbed an apron hanging on the wall. For the next few minutes, they tried molding the clay into a bowl. The boy seemed more relaxed, smiling on occasion, talking about airplanes and dinosaurs. Marco could have given the little guy a prize and thanked him for taking his mind off Lily. At least, for the moment…