Conscious thoughts were driven from her head as Marco demanded all of her attention, snapping his hips forward quickly, fucking her hard and deep. He wanted everything from her and he was taking what he wanted.
“Is that funny?” His voice was low and raspy with some unfathomable emotion, and he plunged so deeply into her that Mina moaned under the onslaught. “Maybe I should stop. Maybe you want to leave. Go back to Miami.” Each sentence was punctuated with a slow thrust of his hips, his cock so deep she couldn’t imagine the emptiness she’d feel if he stopped.
Her eyes opened and she searched for his, trying to focus on him through her pleasure induced haze. Golden light streamed across the bed, but it cast Marco’s face into shadow, and she shivered under him. Sometimes it was hard for her to forget how dangerous he was--to her life and her heart--but it was rarely this close to the surface. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Marco watched her, his movements slowing to a cruel crawl. His possession was just as thorough, but the pace felt like a careful insult.
“Imagine my surprise this afternoon,” he said, eyes burning in the darkness, “when my brother,” he pushed even deeper, “took me to task for not attending to… your… needs.”
Mina tried to follow the conversation, but it was hard to separate thought from sensation. His brother? Giovanni?
“I don’t understand.” Mina licked dry lips and tried to concentrate. “What does Giovanni have to do with anything?”
The moment she said Giovanni, Marco’s control snapped. The careful pace he’d set was blown away as whatever devil was driving him lashed him into a frenzy.
“Exactly,” he said, “what does he have to do with anything?” He grabbed her wrists and held them over her head, pinning them with one huge hand. The other hand found a nipple, tugging and tweaking it until it was an angry rose. Each movement sent a current through her until she was arching up off the bed into him, her body bowed in pleasure.
“You’re mine, Mina,” he growled as he pulled her forward, his breath hot in her ear. “Your needs are my concern, no one else’s--not Ethan’s and certainly not Giovanni’s.”
Possessiveness and anger laced the words, and understanding crashed through Mina like lightning. My God! He’s jealous! But the thought barely had time to register before she found herself swept up in Marco’s arms. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing, arms wrapped around her tightly as he raised their joined bodies, kneeling beneath her, his cock buried as deeply as possible inside her. He covered her in biting kisses, from her lips to her nipples, never releasing his grip.
“Tell me,” he demanded, her nipple slipping from his mouth with a wet pop, “tell me that you belong to me, only me, Mina mia.”
An insistent finger found the spot where their bodies were joined and she whimpered as he pressed on the little knob of nerves there. Mina felt the callous on his finger rubbing against her sensitive skin, each rasp pushing her higher until she felt she must throw herself out into space or plunge into the abyss.
A tiny voice in her head wailed that it wasn’t fair, that he was using the responses of her body to force an answer, but it was drowned by a chorus of “yes, yours, please, please, please.” She knew she needed him, and now she knew he needed her--even if just for a moment. It was enough.
She leaned into his embrace, wrapping her legs around his hips, snugging herself even more tightly against him. Her heels caught in the expensive duvet and she groaned as he continued to rub her clit with the hand she’d trapped between them.
Resting her forehead against his she wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes. The anger that had flared there so recently was gone; Mina hoped it was gone for good.
“I don’t want you to stop.” She shifted, rolling her hips a little to show him what she wanted. “I don’t want to leave. I don’t want Miami, or Ethan, or Gio-fucking-vanni.” She let her own anger move her as she gripped his shoulders and levered herself against him, rising and falling on his still rigid cock.
“All I want,” she forced the words out even ask she felt her orgasm bearing down on her like a freight train, “is you.”
Marco’s hands were on her ass, guiding her up and down in the motion they both needed. Mina’s fingers left bloody little half-moons where her nails dug into his shoulders but Marco continued to fuck her through the tight-fisted sucking of her cunt around him, stroking into her relentlessly until she keened through a second orgasm.
Her orgasm pulled him over the edge with her. He flipped them over and pounded into her, his rhythm becoming more and more erratic as he approached his own climax. Words spilled from his lips, a jumble where “mine” was the only word Mina could recognize in a litany of Italian, as Marco came deep inside her, his body throbbing and jerking in release.