Fall from India Place (On Dublin Street #4)(41)
Author: Samantha Young

Marco wasn’t even all the way inside me when something new entered his eyes, an incredulous question. His jaw clenched with control, he slowed to a stop. “Babe…?”

I shook my head, not understanding what was wrong.

“Babe…” He dipped his head closer, his hand cupping my face. “You’re tight as a virgin,” he whispered hoarsely.

Oh, no. No, no, no!

I swallowed hard, the arousal slowly dissipating as reality intruded. “It’s just been a while.” I pushed absentmindedly at his shoulders.

Marco’s answer to that was to thrust deeper into me. I gripped his shoulders instead, my hips jerking up for more.

“How long is a while?” he asked, the muscle in his jaw flexing with tension.

I sought for a plausible lie. “First year, uni,” I panted. “I’ve been busy since then.”

Marco stilled. “You’ve not had a man in four years?”

Five, actually.

I shook my head again.

He suddenly shuttered his expression so I couldn’t read his reaction. And then I didn’t care about reading him because he pushed all the way inside me before pulling back and then slowly thrusting in again.

The discomfort melted away as my inner muscles clamped around his cock. “Oh, God, Marco!” I tried to pull him in deeper.

“Yeah?” He thrust a little harder and I cried out his name again.

He made love to me. Our eyes stayed connected as he glided in and out of me slowly.

“Come for me, babe,” he growled, taking hold of one of my hands and pinning it to the bed while his other hand gripped my thigh harder. “Hannah, I need you to come.”

The feeling inside me was building upward in a spiral, coiling tighter and tighter until my whole body tensed over a precipice.

“Yeah.” Marco thrust harder. “Come for me.”

His c**k moved inside me a few more times, desperate to light the match… and then it did.

It sparked, the tension inside of me exploding, an orgasm unlike any I’d ever had before flowing through me. I think my eyes even rolled back in my head as I cried out to God.

I shuddered against Marco, opening my eyes to watch as he stiffened, his neck arched, his teeth gritted, and his eyes fierce as his own climax rolled through him.

He jerked against me, his hold on me almost painful as he came. He collapsed on me. His body still shuddered as he buried his head in my neck.

My muscles were warm and languid and for a few glorious seconds I just lay there enjoying the aftermath of the most amazing orgasm I’d ever experienced, and exulting at the feel of Marco’s warm, hard body covering mine.

Those seconds quickly passed, however.

When he raised his head, his features relaxed, and his eyes filled with affection, a dark, heavy feeling began to sneak into my gut. He kissed me softly and I kissed him back, but…

He pulled gently out of me and rolled off me. The feeling in my gut grew bigger as he got out of bed. My eyes took in his long, muscled back, zeroing in on a line of raised skin on the left side of his lower back. A scar.

A new feeling of unease met the one that was already growing inside me. I watched as his magnificent body, bite-worthy arse and all, crossed the room and disappeared into the hall.

A few seconds later he returned, completely at ease with his nakedness. Wishing I could believe in the softness in his eyes as he looked at me, I watched on, a little perplexed, as he crawled back into bed with me. And then he pressed a wet washcloth between my legs.

Surprised by the sweet gesture, I bit my lip to keep myself from saying anything as he took care of me. Afterward he disappeared for a few seconds again, returning to draw down the covers that were under me so he could put them over me. He slipped into bed, lying on his back, and his arm came around me. Without saying a word he pulled me into his side and I rested my head on his chest, my heart racing again.

“I don’t know if this changes anything.”

Marco replied on a huff of laughter, “Of course it does.”

For some reason I wanted to cry. I didn’t understand myself at all. “I should be lying here feeling happy, but… I’m not.”

The air in the room grew chilled. Marco sat up, turning so he could look me in the eye. I could tell by the hardening of his jaw that he was more than a little pissed off by my reaction to us having sex. “What the hell does that mean?”

I went for honesty. Well… sort of. “I have this sinking feeling about us.” I looked away. “I haven’t told you everything, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.”

I felt the press of his fingers against my chin and he slowly turned my head so I had to meet his blazing gaze. “You will, eventually,” he said with a certainty I just couldn’t feel. “I haven’t told you everything either, but we’ll get there. And that feeling… I’ll make that go away. I’ll make that go away by proving to you that I’m not going away. I’m here, Hannah. And I want to be here.”

I wanted to argue further, I wanted to run far away before everything between us imploded and left me devastated. But when he kissed me, pushing me back against the pillows, determined to make love to me all over again, I understood that there was a much bigger part of me that had nothing to do with my brain and everything to do with my emotions, and it wanted this here with him even more.

The staff room was emptying out with only five minutes to go until lunch was over. I’d just walked to the sink to rinse my mug, still in a daze (and exhausted) from last night’s sexathon with Marco, when Nish hurried over to my side.

She ignored my questioning gaze to look over her shoulder. As soon as the last teacher walked out of the staff room she turned back to me, her dark eyes sparkling with excitement. “I heard things are going well with you and Marco.”

Annoyance made my pulse speed up. “And where did you hear that?”

Nish shrugged, looking weirdly smug, almost triumphant. “Well, Marco sent me a text this morning and all it said was ‘Thank you.’ Seeing the dark circles under your eyes, the flush in your cheeks, and putting it together with the cryptic text message, I can only conclude you two had sex.”

Great. “Are you an English teacher or a private detective?” I grumbled.

Nish laughed. “I don’t know what that grumpiness is for. If I was getting some from Marco D’Alessandro I’d die a happy woman.”

“You’re a married woman,” I reminded her, throwing my sandwich packet in the bin as I headed toward the door.