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“I’ll be right back.” As he disappears into the bathroom, I can't help but feel a sense of longing wash over me. There's something about Marco that draws me in, something that makes me feel alive in a way that I haven't felt in a long time. I lean back against the firm matress, the silk pillowcase soft under my head, and press a hand to my chest.
When he comes back,he hands me a wet face cloth, and I press it to my temple. The hotel isn’t a cheap place but the AC isn’t doing much for the warmth. Maybe because the warmth is coming from inside of me? Marco offers me a glass bottle of mineral water from the suite’s kitchenette. The cool liquid soothes my parched throat. He sits down next to me on the bed, his eyes searching mine.
"You know, Filia," he says in a low voice, "It's strange."
I swallow. "What is?"
He hesitates, then smiles crookedly, a hand running along his neck. "I had too much fun flirting with you on that flight. When it was over, I was disappointed. The chances of us ever meeting by chance again, of you actually calling my number, were so low they might as well have been a fantasy. And yet here you are." He studies me closely. "So beautiful, so close. What are the odds?"
My pulse picks up as his words wash over me and his forearm grazed my thigh. There's something thrilling about being with a man who's not afraid to speak his mind, who's not afraid to take what he wants.
"If I was good at running the odds," I whisper, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "I'd have seen Drew getting me fired from my job from a mile away."
Marco tenses. Shit, I said something gloomy and ruined the mood. Parting my lips, I rush to get an excuse off my tongue, a way to apologize and bring the topic back around to how beautiful he thinks I am, and how lucky we are that we’ve had this second chance. Should I tell him how handsome I think he is too? Should I tell him about the desire blooming inside me?
I stare up at him with wide eyes and without another word, he leans down and kisses me, his lips hot and urgent against mine. I melt as his arm slides beneath me, pulling me to him, my body responding to his touch as if it's been waiting for this moment for years.
I was wrong. I didn't ruin the moment at all.
His hands move down my body, his touch igniting a fire in me I can't control. I moan as he leans closer, his breath hot in my ear, before he kisses my neck, his tongue darting out to taste my skin.
I arch my back, offering him more access to my sensitive skin. My hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. His kisses grow more demanding, more urgent. In a flash he’s pulled off the palazzo pants he bought for me, my bare legs exposed and wanting his touch.
As he moves his hands up to my breasts, my body shudders with pleasure. I'm not sure how much time passes before he finally pulls back, breathing heavily.
"I want you," he says, his eyes dark with desire.
I pull him down to me, kissing him with all the passion that's been building inside of me since we first met. His hands roam over my body, discovering ways to make my core melt––ways no stranger should discover so quickly.
"Tell me you want me." His voice is low, intense. It's a command, not a question.
"Yes," I whisper, my head spinning. "I want you."
The heated look on his face sends shivers down my spine as he moves back closer to me, kissing my breasts.
I let my eyes fall closed as he moves his hands over my body, each stroke making me gasp. He moves down to my legs, caressing me through the lace of my thong. I breathe out a slow, hot breath as he slides my panties off, throwing them to the floor.
His face hovers an inch from mine, his breath warm and inviting against my lips, his eyes intense and dominating as they stare into mine. My breath hitches as his fingers slide between my wet folds. He traces a slow, teasing circle around my clit, before finally moving back down to slide inside me once more, further this time.
I gasp as he moves his fingers back and forth inside me, his thumb teasing my clit.
God, it feels so good, so right. He's not afraid to touch me, to slide his fingers into my slick folds, to make me moan into the silent hotel room.
My toes curl as my hips move in time with his hand, a delicious pressure building in my core. I could be content to let him go on like this for hours, but I know I won't last that long.
"Marco," I whisper, my breaths coming more quickly. "Please, I need more."
"Tell me what you need," he says, his voice like velvet.
"I want you inside me," I tell him. "Please. I need it."
He growls, a primal sound, and reaches over to his pants. He pulls out his cock, thick and hard––the only thing I can look at.
I stare at it, my body growing tense.
His mouth and hands are driving me wild. My breath grows ragged as I try to keep my moans low, trying to keep it together even as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm me.
I lean backwards, my head hitting the pillow. My body tenses as his touch grows more urgent, his fingers sliding faster and deeper inside me.
