Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
He flips me onto my stomach, his fingers leaving me to tear my thong down my legs. His lips land on my back, but the rest of him stays clear.
I squirm back against him, my ass pushing into his cock. It's just enough to get him to push forward, rubbing his head against me. Grasping my hips, he pulls me into him, but only enough to tease. I want more, need more; I reach back, taking his cock in hand and guiding it inside. His breathing grows louder, more ragged, as he sinks in deeper and deeper.
The sensation of his hot, hard cock inside me makes me moan and groan. "Marco..." I whimper.
"Keep saying my name."
"Marco," I purr. "Marco, Marco, Marco, Marco..."
He grabs my hips, pulling me back onto his cock. His fingers dig into me and I cry out from the sudden pain, but it's a beautiful pain, one that leaves me shuddering with every thrust. My body spasms, clinging to his. He comes first, his cock spasming as he fills me to the brim. His hands tighten on my hips and he holds me still, trembling as his cock pulses. When he's spent, he pulls out of me, his cock lingering in my cunt as he pulls me onto my back.
I fall against the pillows and he's on me in an instant, his lips searching my neck. I reach up, stroking the mussed hair from his face. "I love you," I whisper.
"God, I love you more than anything I've ever known," he replies.
That gets a smile out of me. My body is drained; reclining on the pillows, I sink deeper, my muscles relaxing. So much tension leaves me. Before I know it I'm wincing at the bright light of the sun through the window.
Morning already? I wonder. Sitting up, I smooth my messy hair while peering around. It's my first good look at the hotel room. Not as fancy as the one we shared in Rome, but way out of my price range regardless.
Thinking about money sends a cold spike into my middle. I reach for my phone, then remember I don't have one anymore. I need to figure out what I'm doing. The plan was to buy a cheap return flight, but... I glance at Marco beside me. He's gorgeous as ever, but sleep gives him an ethereal serenity. Like I've come across a sleeping lion. Powerful, able to fight and protect––yet here he's calm. With me he's not a wild animal.
He yawns, muscular arms flexing as he stretches under the blanket. His eyes slip open a crack. He spots me, those kissable lips forming a pleased smile. "You know, I once woke up to a sunset on the crest of a ridge in Zion. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever see. Turns out I was wrong."
"Stop," I chuckle, blushing hotly.
"Never." Marco slips his hand into mine, curling my body against his. "I'll tell you every morning until I never wake up again."
"That's grim."
"Romantic, I think." Yawning again, he strokes his fingers over my naked shoulders, playing with my hair. "Let's enjoy this moment. I have a sinking feeling I won't get many lazy mornings once I go back to the States."
"Yeah," I whisper. My hand presses on his ribs. His heartbeat is a patient drum, total opposite of mine. "Marco, about that. When are you returning?"
There––his pulse speeds up. "My mother is in Colorado. She needs to see me. She told me to fly out tonight."
"Tonight?" I repeat. When he says nothing, I lean into him harder. My cheek crushes on his chest. "Tell me what's wrong with her."
He digs his fingers into my shoulder. "Why do you think––"
"Derek told me."
"Derek?" Sitting up abruptly, he stares down at me in shock. "When? No, why?"
I sit up, too, clutching the blanket around my body. Telling him this is making me feel more vulnerable than being naked does. "Last night. He came to the embassy."
"So he was the one who gave you a ride," he growls. "Filia, nothing Derek says matters."
"He wasn't lying. I'm not dumb, Marco. I can connect the dots. The contract, the pressure to pick a successor before it's too late, the conversation Trey started last night at the bar that you interrupted. Just tell me what's wrong with her."
Marco hangs his head. His back expands as he sucks in air through his nose. Lifting a hand, he cups his own throat. "Cancer in her thyroid."
"Oh, god, I'm so sorry!"
"They were able to treat it. Cutting it out destroyed her vocal cords, though. She can barely speak. It's why I took so long talking to her last night. Texting would be faster, but she insisted, and I couldn't tell her no."
"Wait, does this mean she's cancer free?"
"Well. Not anymore." He smiles, except it's a dark, heartless thing. "It came back a few months ago. That's what spiraled this mess into action." Marco stares at the window. "She was glad we came to a decision. I don't think she's happy it's me, but honestly, I doubt any of us would have been enough. She always felt this company could only be run by her. Even with death at her door, that hasn't changed."