“Bene.” Falling to his knees, he pulls my pants and underwear down as he goes and gives me exactly what I need, his mouth latching onto my clit and his fingers fucking me with precision.
It takes two minutes for my body to give in.
Piercing this all-consuming haze of lust with his gray eyes, Marco silently gives me permission to let go. And I do. I come all over his face and fingers and only when I fall to my own knees in front of him does he speak.
“Open.” Without even questioning him, I open my mouth, allowing him to coat my lips with my cum before he leans in and kisses the arousal right off, leaving me breathless and a little bit in awe of his talents.
“Let’s go out. I can’t have my wife bored at home.”
“Okay, I’ll get cleaned up.” His hand is quicker than lightning as his fingers grab my jaw and his wicked grin is the only thing in my line of sight.
“No. You’re perfect just like this. I want every man that passes by to know you’re wearing the orgasm I just gave you.”
* * *
“A hotel? Really? You need to work on your wooing skills, Marco. No wonder you’re paying me so much.” Looking up at the intricacy of one of the most iconic buildings in New York City, a sudden wave of pride washes over me. Above the entrance in gold lettering and bold lines is the name Mancini. Proud and all-encompassing—standing tall among the mere mortals of Manhattan—is the luxury hotel where the rich and famous from all around the world pay exorbitant amounts of money to have the privilege of saying they stayed the night.
“That mouth, Dolcezza, is going to get you into a lot of trouble.” Taking my hand, he rubs his thumb over my wedding band as he pulls me inside the golden double doors.
I grin at the doorman as Marco shakes his hand, asking him how his family is doing.
“Good, thank you, sir.” I don’t think my husband realizes how good he just made that man feel. It’s like I can see his aura changing colors as we speak.
“Have you met my wife?” Pulling me closer, he introduces me to Emmett, who immediately bows his head in reverence. That act alone makes me extremely uncomfortable. I’m not a queen, no matter how many times the name Regina is thrown at me. I’m just a girl from Staten Island who was able to make ends meet by selling my only assets at the time.
Myself.
“It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Mancini.”
“The pleasure is mine, Emmett.”
Marco shakes his hand again, a flash of green peeking out from the corner of his palm.
“Thank you, sir. Thank you. Have a great day.”
Stepping inside, I’m overwhelmed by the elegance and beauty of the great hall. Everest would use the word opulence; the gold trimmings and expensive paintings lining the walls are probably worth more than all of our assets combined.
“This,” Marco leads me to a shelf that looks like something out of a pre-war movie with round edges and burdensome history. Without touching it, he points to a clock encased in a glass cube, the face at the center with a golden harp on top and two cherubs standing on either side. It’s gaudy and, frankly, ugly. But who am I to judge? “It belonged to my great-grandfather. Brought it over from Italy—Firenze—and when he first built this hotel, it was just a mom-and-pop little place with a few rooms.” The pride in his voice is fascinating. I don’t know much about my grandparents. My father had broken all ties in college when their political views clashed and he could no longer live under their strict rule.
I wish I had this much passion for my ancestry. At least I feel it for my immediate family, so there’s that.
“So, you decided to keep it in the main hall as a reminder of your past?” Marco turns to me, his grin beautiful and infectious.
“The past dictates our fate and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that fate always wins.”
“Whatever. I mean, I get it, but from an esthetic point of view, it breaks the lines of the great hall. Instead of bringing your clients’ eyes to the vast beauty, it automatically falls on this.” I shrug, not really knowing what the fuck I’m talking about. I barely have a high school diploma, let alone a degree in interior design.
“Maybe. Come, I want to show you something.”
We head straight for the elevators where Marco takes out a special key and turns it on the lone double doors in the far back. The doors open immediately and once inside, it’s clear this is a private shaft. With another turn of the key, the elevator takes off and only stops once.
“You do love your rooftops, don’t you?” For the first time, I see Marco without his mask. I see the young man who has a passion, who has mischief written all over his bright, mesmerizing eyes.
“I really fucking do.”
“Do I get to spank you for your filthy mouth, too?” With one hard yank, he has me flush against his body, his vanilla scent making my skin buzz with heat.
“I’d like to see you try.” Raising a brow, I push up on my tiptoes and trap his bottom lip between my teeth, earning me a growl.