‘Turn on your side,’ he instructed, ‘and wait for me.’
She watched him undress and felt her arousal grow. Marco’s back rippled with muscle as he moved. His entire body was a work of brutal masculine art. She could hardly breathe for excitement by the time he joined her on the bed.
Stretching out his length behind her, he rested his hand in the small of her back. She responded immediately, and arching her back she waited in tingling anticipation for his first touch.
Having arranged her to his satisfaction, Marco took hold of her and gently parting her legs he slipped the tip of his erection inside her until he was sure she was relaxed. Then he sank deep. He hardly needed to move at all as her hunger took over. Working with ever-increasing intent, she used him shamelessly.
‘Nice?’ he enquired softly when, after the longest time, she was quiet again.
‘Very nice,’ she confirmed groggily, smiling into the pillow.
‘Again?’
‘Oh, I think so, don’t you?’
They made love so many times she lost count, and each time was better than the last. She drifted off to sleep, safe in Marco’s arms, and woke to find him making love to her again.
‘How do you do that?’ she muttered, still half-asleep.
He hushed her and continued to move steadily back and forth.
She remained quiescent and silent, the grateful recipient of pleasure, with no effort required from her at all. She had no argument with that, not when this was turning out to be the most incredible experience of her life. Just the thought of Marco doing what he was doing, and so skilfully, was enough to make her lose control. As sensation claimed her, she cried out his name, and clutching the pillow in a vice-like grip she gave her body over to violent convulsions of pleasure. And when she was quiet, Marco started all over again.
Sex wasn’t an end in itself, she knew that as well as anyone. But until a solution could be found to their situation, it was the one thing that brought them as close as this.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CASS’S WORK AT the embassy gardens was turning out even better than she had hoped. She was smiling when she returned to the penthouse at the thought that she loved everyone she worked with, and was even picking up the language. Working with the plants she loved, with her hands in soil and her head in a better place, she could even start to think of the penthouse as home—at least, for now—and then without dwelling too much on what would happen in the future.
One thing was sure. She loved her baby already, and she would do everything in her power to give her child the best life possible. Two things were sure, Cass amended as she caught sight of her passport in her bag. She had made up her mind to return to England for the birth. She couldn’t risk the uncertainty of staying in Italy, if only because Marco seemed to be working harder than ever. He was either trying to avoid getting in too deep, in an emotional sense, or maybe he was trying to exorcise his own demons. Either way, their child would be born soon, and she was determined that her baby’s future would be stable, unlike her own as a child.
Marco had been away on business for the past few days, and was due back tonight. The thought thrilled her, even as it made her more determined than ever to pin him down and explain what her plans were. Time was running out on her pregnancy, and he had to face the future. It was a future she hoped they would share with their child, even if Marco and she lived in different countries.
She hadn’t been idle while he’d been away. As well as her job at the embassy, she had interviewed new staff for the penthouse. She wanted to earn her keep. She wanted Marco to know that she wasn’t waiting for him to do everything.
She also had to tell him that she was well enough to go home, and though she was grateful to him for allowing her to recover here in Rome, her mind was made up to return to England.
Tears pricked the back of her eyes at the thought of leaving him. She was falling in love with him, Cass realised as she brushed her hair.
There were no if, buts or maybes. She had fallen in love, and with a very complex man who was coming home tonight, so she would leave her hair loose...for him.
* * *
Marco looked exhausted when he walked through the door. He also looked gloriously striking in a navy suit so dark it was almost as black as his eyes. His crisp white shirt was open at the neck and his stylish silk tie was hanging loose. She didn’t need him to tell her that it had been a hard trip. His hair was ruffled, his stubble was thick, and his frown was so deep she knew he’d had a difficult time, though his face lit up at the sight of her.