Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Alice knew she had fallen in love with Marco, body and soul, when Hackman had spoken so vilely to her.
She had known she was lost completely when she felt her heart being crushed by the disappointment of his revelations.
If she had not loved Marco so profoundly, the thought of losing their future together would not have been so devastating.
In the hours since she left Hackman's house, she had mourned that loss but hardened herself to her reality.
She never expected that Marco would reveal even more terrible secrets to her, and she would still want him so viscerally.
That he could still want her even after admitting the pain her father had caused him.
“You…” she hesitated, leaning on her elbows to stare at Marco. “You still want to marry me?”
With an intensity that shocked her, Marco leaned forward until he was only a breath away from her lips.
“Do you think I would ever go back on my promise?” he whispered. “Do you think my word means so little?”
Alice could think of nothing under Marco’s heavy gaze.
Being his sole focus was intoxicating. It sparked every nerve in her body.
Making her imagine foolish, wanton things like having his lips on hers as he stripped her bare right in the garden and took her with a ferocity to match her fevered desire.
“Did you not promise to marry me?” Marco asked, his lips dancing so close to hers that she could smell the spicy scent of his skin she had come to crave.
“I did,” Alice affirmed. And just like in her imagination, Marco’s lips caught hers in a punishing kiss.
He forced his tongue into her mouth and dared her own to dance with it.
A pained groan reverberated in his chest like the rumble of a lion.
Alice reached up and clutched him to her, twisting one hand around to tangle in his hair and hold him closer.
Marco gasped, pulling away abruptly. “Will you still have me, even after all of this? Will you marry me?”
Alice could feel the fragility of her heart once again, the terror of trusting him once more when she had already been hurt, but she also knew she could not be without him.
“Yes, I will,” she whispered.
Marco kissed her again. The way he kissed seemed to be an example of how he handled everything in life: with intensity and skill.
Alice yielded to the assault of his lips and tongue willingly.
Alice fell forward as he eased off his knees and sat on the ground.
He bent over her to kiss her, and she tried to meet him with equal ardor, but it wasn’t possible.
He kissed her deeply as if he had been waiting his whole life to do so.
While one hand was tangled in her loose hair, the other traveled over the curves of her body.
Alice gasped as his hand cupped her breast, arching her back as he palmed her fullness.
He groaned, and Alice bit down on his lower lip, earning her something she had never expected to enjoy, a pinch to her stiff nipple.
She gasped against his mouth, then felt firm fingers forcing their way under the neckline of her gown.
He burrowed his way into her bodice and rubbed his thumb over her sensitized nipple.
“My God!” Alice cried out at the new sensation, and Marco instantly smothered her with kisses.
“Hush,” he whispered hoarsely against her lips. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” Alice whispered back, arching her spine into his touch.
“Then you must be quiet,” he said, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth.
“Please,” Alice whispered, though she had no idea what she was asking for. Marco seemed to suspect as much, for his fingers stilled against her flesh, and she moaned in frustration.
“You only have to ask, and I'll give you what you want, but you have to say the words,” he murmured against her cheek.
It was easier to speak the scandalous words when he was not looking at her. “Touch me, please,” she gasped. “Like you did before.”
"Where?" he pressed.
"Underneath my skirts. Please touch my..." she did not even know what to call that part of herself.
Marco sensed her uncertainty and kissed beneath her ear. She shuddered and he gently squeezed her breast. “As you command,” he said, then traced the shell of her ear with his tongue, causing her toes to curl with pleasure.
His hand drifted down and grabbed a handful of her skirt, quickly raking it up over her knees.
Alice shuffled, twisting until she lay flat on her back in the grass with Marco beside her.
He propped himself up on his arm, one hand tracing the curve of her hip as he continued to raise her skirts until she was exposed to him.
His eyes met hers as his fingers danced over her thigh, inching ever higher.
"Here?" he asked as he teased the skin of her hip.
Alice found her breath was far too ragged to answer him.
Instead, she seized hold of his lapels and pulled him close, kissing him furiously, almost impatiently, with the depth of her need.
She bent her left leg and spread her thighs apart, silently begging him to hurry.
Then his hand was there, right where she needed it.
His fingers worked through her already damp curls and grazed that sensitive spot at her core.
The sudden, sharp sensation cut like a blade through her whole body, and Alice gasped.
“There?” Marco asked hoarsely. “Is this where you want your future husband to touch you?”
Alice nodded vigorously as she seemed incapable of speech and kissed him harder than she had before. Yet Marco was not satisfied. His fingers stilled in their soft, sweeping motions and began to draw his hand away.
“No!” Alice cried out. "Don't stop."
“Then answer me,” Marco chuckled, leaning down to kiss her neck, biting just a little too hard against the sensitive skin there.
“Yes, God, yes, touch me there,” Alice almost screamed, remembering at the last moment that they were still in view of the house if anyone happened to look out a window. She clutched his shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Touch me like you did at the opera, in your library.”
Alice was a little abashed and overwhelmed by the intensity of her feelings.
She really hadn’t meant to express her desires so openly, but she could take none of it back now.
She did not want to, and Marco didn’t seem displeased with her shameless request. In fact, his eyes seemed darker and more alluring with every word she spoke, and then he kissed her, almost savagely, and seemed to struggle for breath.
“When you say things like that, I feel like I will come undone,” Marco growled. His fingers resumed the fluttering, insistent motion that forced Alice to stifle her cries behind her hand.
His touch was so passionate that, for a moment, she forgot that they were in the garden of her family home.
She forgot that they were still unmarried, and to be caught together like this would be scandalous and embarrassing.
All she cared about was his lips on hers.
About his fingers, softly opening her, starting a fire in her body.
She lifted her hips in an invitation, and Marco’s finger sank inside her.
Suddenly, his mouth tore away from hers, and he moaned softly, burying his face in her hair. His breath was hot in her ear.
“Is this what you want?” he rasped.
Alice shivered. Marco pushed his finger a little further inside her, and she gasped, but then his thumb moved to that sensitive spot, and she arched her back and nearly screamed his name.
“Yes,” she gasped.
Marco kissed her savagely and began to pump his finger in and out of her while his thumb circled a steady rhythm on her nub.
She panted his name as she moved her hips in time with his thrusts, desperately riding his hand.
The pressure she had felt in his library was like a storm building inside her, dark clouds coiling in the air before the first clap of thunder harkened the rain.
“Do you still doubt me?” Marco demanded breathily. She opened her eyes, and their gazes locked as he continued to work his hand over her body.
When Alice didn’t respond, he slowed his touch.
And she realized what Marco was doing. With every touch and kiss, he dragged her senses to the edge of bliss, making her hips buck wantonly and violently.
Then, just near the peak of her pleasure, he would pull away.
He would slow his pace and kiss her softly.
He would withdraw his fingers until only the lightest touch remained.
Alice was sweating and could only squeal and whimper against the fabric of his jacket.
He would then quicken his pace and bring her back to a high — stretching her to the brink of insanity.
She felt her body expand in response to the second finger he pushed inside her.
She felt like a lump of clay in his hands, malleable and ready to take whatever shape he desired.
“No,” Alice gasped finally in answer to his question. “No, I don’t doubt you. Marco, please."
She did not know the right words to ask for what she needed.
She only felt like her soul was being held captive in a cage, and only Marco's touch could release her.
Marco stepped back for a moment to look at her.
Her hunger was palpable in her eyes. Alice didn't mind how wanton and desperate she must have appeared as she spread herself on the grass in front of him.
His perfectly sculpted cheeks were flushed with effort and desire.
His brow furrowed, his gaze fixed on the spot where his hand touched her.
He drew his fingers back and watched as he pushed them back inside her.
Alice was so enthralled by his gaze that she growled.
“Do you know how much I want to take you?” Marco growled. “Do you know how much I long to be inside you? To make you mine?"