Compromising Positions(7)

Heavy in completion, he pinned her to the bed and Mina stroked a shaking hand down his back as they caught their breath. She looked down at the back of the dark head lying on her breasts and knew that nothing was ever going to be the same.

“I am sorry.” Marco’s voice was muffled against her skin and she sighed.

“You should be.” There wasn’t any venom in her voice, but she wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily. She’d done nothing to make him think she was paying attention to anyone but him. Hell, she’d put up with his mother, and with the male chauvinist dominated Italian culture without complaining--he shouldn’t doubt her so easily.

Marco pulled back, his eyes taking in her body as it lay before him. Her legs were still splayed wide, their mixed fluids smeared across them. Her breasts were pink, rasped raw by the faint stubble on his cheeks, but her eyes were bright and full of questions, but free of accusations.

He was a lucky man.

“Are you going to explain what that was all about?” Mina pulled herself gingerly to the edge of the bed trying to make sure she didn’t trip herself by getting tangled in the bedclothes. She stood on unsteady legs, grimacing as wetness dripped down her legs. “I need another shower.”

Marco stood quickly, holding her tightly against him. “No.” He kissed the line of her shoulder, before turning her face and dropping a tender kiss on her lips. “I love seeing you like this. Seeing the evidence of our lovemaking on your body.” His eyes darkened again as he dragged a hand up from her hip, sliding up her side, cupping her still swollen breast. “Stay like this.” He kissed her more intently. “For me. Please.”

The “please” was her undoing. She shook her head, disconcerted by both his demand and at her impulse to comply.

“I have to clean up a little,” she said finally, only willing to go so far to fulfill Marco’s need to mark his territory. “I’m not going to make a spectacle of myself in front of everyone tonight.” Especially your mother, she thought with a mental eyeroll.

Unembarrassed by his nakedness, Marco led her through to the en suite bath and leaned her gently against the vanity. Standing there silently, Mina watched as he wet a cloth with warm water and wrung it out before lifting her leg and rubbing it along her skin, wiping away the most noticeable evidence of their lovemaking. She watched the muscles flex and move under his skin, his naked body a thing of beauty, and she wondered at her own lack of embarrassment as he washed the traces of his come from her thighs.

“No one else will know,” he said, his voice so low it was hard for her to catch it. “But every time I see you dance with another man, I’ll know that your pussy is still filled with my come, and every time you feel the wetness you’ll remember that no one makes you feel the way I do. No one.” A final swipe of the now cool cloth against her still swollen labia sent a new round of shudders through her and Marco smiled at her response.

“So beautiful. So responsive.” He pulled her into his arms and she melted against him, her nipples hard against his bare chest, her breathing staccato in the quiet room. “And all mine.”

There was no point in arguing. “Yes. All yours.”

Marco swept her up into his arms and carried her back to the long mirror. Efficient movements had him dressed in moments before he turned to help her into her dress. Her underwear were past salvaging and when she opened a drawer to pull out a new pair Marco stopped her.

“You won’t need them,” he said. Kneeling beside her he carefully lifted one high-heeled foot slipping her dress over it, followed by the other. A shake and twist and she was covered again, the collar hooks fixed and her hair smoothed, her dress surprisingly undamaged by their abuse of it. She looked at herself in the long mirror, sensory overload making her feel slightly dazed. Her earlier concern about her exposed back now seemed ridiculous. She was naked except for a layer of cobalt silk, her nipples hard, her pussy soaked--who was going to care about a her bare back?

She was still in a fog, allowing Marco to tend to her, when an insistent knocking jerked her back to reality.

“What’s keeping you two… ?” A friendly voice accompanied the knock, the bedroom door swinging open suddenly. Giovanni Genovese took one look at the pair of them and immediately stepped back into the hall.

“I beg your pardon,” he said, eyes flitting from Marco’s stiffening shoulders to Mina’s wide eyes and kiss swollen lips. His gaze traveled further, taking her unsteady stance, and flickering over the wildly mussed sheets on the king sized bed. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”