Chapter 13 Marco #2
“Almost there,” she whispers, her voice husky. Her hand moves to the base, smoothing the latex all the way down, her fingertips tracing the edge where it meets skin. Then she cups my balls, massaging gently, and I bite back a roar. My entire body tenses, every muscle coiled.
Then she releases me.
I exhale.
She’s looking up at me, her lips parted, her eyes glazed with need. “There. Was that sexy enough?”
For a heartbeat, I can’t move. Can’t fucking breathe. The condom feels like a second skin, her scent still on my cock, her heat radiating against me.
I’ve never been this close to losing it just from being touched.
Not ever.
With a hungry growl, I throw her back against the counter.
Then I position myself at her entrance. Feel her wet heat against mine. Just the tip. Not moving. Making her wait.
Like she made me wait.
“Marco.” It comes out as a plea.
“Tell me you’re mine,” I rasp.
“I’m yours,” she pleas.
My turn to grin wickedly. “Say it again.”
“I’m yours. Oh God, Marco, I’m yours. Please. Fuck me!”
I thrust in hard. One stroke. Filling her completely.
She cries out and her hands grip my shoulders. Nails digging in through my shirt. I force my prostrate to relax completely. It wouldn’t do to cum on the first thrust.
“Fuck you feel good.” I pull almost all the way out. Drive back in. Again, force my prostrate to relax, though my dick is harder than it’s ever been. “So tight. So perfect. Like you were made for my cock.”
I set a brutal pace. Deep thrusts that hit exactly where she needs me. Her breasts bounce with every stroke and I can’t stop watching. Can’t stop feeling. Can’t stop wanting more.
I’m going to make this last for ever.
I’m going to draw out my orgasm, and hers, until morning.
“Look at me,” I command.
Her eyes meet mine. Wild and desperate and completely focused on me.
“You’re so beautiful like this.” The words come out rough. “Taking me so well. Being so good for me.”
“I’m close! I’m so fucking close.”
“Not yet. Hold it.”
“I can’t. I can’t hold it.”
“Yes you fucking can.” I slow my thrusts. Make them deliberate instead of frantic. “Because I said so. And you’re going to be a good girl and wait until I give you permission.”
She’s trembling. Her pussy is clenching around me and I know she’s on the edge. One more stroke and she’ll fall apart. As will I.
I reach between us. Find her clit with my thumb. Press down.
At last I relent. “Now. Cum.”
She shatters. Her back arches and she makes this sound that’s half scream, half sob. “Mar... ah ah... Mar... ah ah... co!”
Her pussy clenches rhythmically around my cock and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever felt.
I can’t hold back anymore. “Jess. Fuck. I’m going to cum.”
“Yes,” she begs. “Please. I want it.”
I slam in deep and cum so hard my vision grays. Pulsing inside her while she’s still trembling from her own orgasm.
So much for drawing it out until morning...
For a moment we’re both just breathing. Foreheads pressed together. Hearts pounding.
I pull out carefully. She winces slightly and I’m immediately concerned.
“You okay?”
“Perfect.” She smiles. Soft and sated. “That was... so perfect.”
I help her down from the counter and dispose of the condom. We’re both still catching our breath when I hear it.
A snapping sound. Like a twig breaking.
Outside. In the courtyard maybe.
We both freeze.
“Did you hear that?” Jess whispers.
“Yeah.” I’m already moving. Tucking myself back into my jeans. “Stay here.”
I unlock the door. Peer out into the darkness.
Nothing.
The courtyard is empty. The main house is dark except for the upstairs hall light we leave on for Ben.
Could’ve been the wood settling. Could’ve been nothing.
Or could’ve been Luis doing a perimeter check.
I close the door. Turn back to Jess.
She’s already dressed. Pulling her hair into some kind of knot. Looking anywhere but at me.
“Hey.” I cross to her. Cup her face so she has to look up. “It’s fine. Probably just the house settling.”
“Right. Of course.” But she’s nervous now. The post-orgasm glow is fading into anxiety.
I guide her to the utility sink. Turn on the warm water. We wash our hands together. Shoulders touching. Both stunned silent by what just happened.
This changes everything.
And nothing.
Ben is still asleep upstairs. The contract still says no fraternization. Ethan still warned me to keep my hands off his sister.
But I can’t regret this.
Won’t regret it.
“We need to talk about this,” Jess says quietly.
“I know.”
“The contract has an exit clause,” she continues. “If boundaries blur.”
My breath hitches. I look at her sharply. “You want to use it?”
She doesn’t answer. Not right away.
Then:
“No.” She turns off the water. Dries her hands on the towel I hand her. “But we need to be smart. The work can’t suffer. Ben can’t suffer.”
“Agreed.”
“And no one can know.” Her eyes meet mine. “Especially not Ethan.”
“Especially Ethan.” I pick up her bracelet from the counter. Hold it out to her.
She looks at it. Then at me.
When she doesn’t take it, I close her fingers around it. “Put it back on, Jess.”
She nods slowly, then clasps it around her wrist. The metal catches the dim light.
“So that’s it then,” she says quietly. “One time. Like before.”
“Like before,” I echo.
But we both know it’s different this time. Because before was supposed to be a one-night thing.
This was supposed to be impossible.
And yet here we are.
“I’ll protect your career,” I tell her. “Even if that someday means you have to leave.”
“I already told you, I’m not leaving.” She says it fiercely. “Not unless you fire me.”
“I’m not firing you.”
She takes a breath. Steadies herself. “All right then. So it’s done. We pretend this didn’t happen. We go back to professional. Just the nanny and the boss.”
I want to believe that’s possible.
Want to believe we can put this behind us.
“No repeats,” I say. Making it a rule. Making it final.
Her smile is sad. “No repeats. For Ben.”
“For Ben,” I agree.
But I don’t want to agree. I want to find a way to make this work. Want to tell her we’ll be careful, we’ll figure it out, we’ll find moments when it’s safe.
I don’t say any of that.
I walk her to the door. Hand her the notebook she left earlier. Make sure her hair is smooth and her clothes are straight.
Professional. Appropriate. Like we just finished a contract review.
“Goodnight, Marco,” she says.
“Goodnight, Jess.”
She crosses the courtyard. Disappears into the main house.
I stand in the studio doorway staring at the space she’d occupied only moments before.
Then I close the door. Lock it. Turn off the remaining lights.
My phone is on the counter. Three texts from Luis confirming Ben’s status. All good. No issues.
The privacy window worked.
No one knows.
I should feel relieved.
Instead I feel hollow. Like I just committed to something I can’t take back.
I pick up the towel we used. It still smells like her lavender scent.
I should throw it in the laundry. Should eliminate evidence like the paranoid bastard I am.
I fold it instead. Smell it one more time, then set it aside.
When I finally head back to the main house, Niamh is in the kitchen making tea.
“Everything sorted?” she asks. Not looking up.
“All sorted.”
She nods. “Good. Ben’s been out for an hour. No issues.”
“Thanks.”
I climb the stairs. Check on Ben out of habit. She’s sprawled across her bed with Frederick clutched in one small hand. Peaceful. Safe.
This is what matters.
Not wanting Jess.
Not crossing lines I swore I wouldn’t cross.
Just keeping Ben stable and protected and loved.
I close her door quietly.
In my own room, I strip off my clothes. Stand under scalding water in the shower and try to wash away the guilt.
It doesn’t work.
Because the guilt isn’t about the sex.
It’s about the fact I want more.
Want Jess in my bed.
In my kitchen.
In my life.
Want to stop pretending this is just physical.
Want things I have no right to want while Isotta’s mixing bowl still sits on my shelf and her lemon tree still grows on my roof.
I towel off. Climb into bed. Stare at the ceiling.
My phone buzzes.
A text from Jess. Just three words.
Thank you for tonight.
My cock grows instantly hard.
I stare at it for a long moment.
(my phone, not my cock)
Then I type back: Thank you for staying.
Her response is immediate. A single emoji.
A snail.
I laugh despite myself. Despite everything.
I put the phone face down on the nightstand.
Close my eyes.
And try not to think about the fact I’m completely fucked.
Because this isn’t just sex anymore.
It’s not just wanting.
It’s feeling something I swore I’d never feel again.
And that terrifies me more than any contract violation ever could.