Chapter 22 #2
“Mom and I are good, Frankie. Don’t worry about us,” Livvie says.
I manage to finish eating just as Charlie stands up to announce that we’re going to play one last game, something to do with trivia questions about what kind of parents we think Frankie and Dante will be. And then the cake will be served while Frankie opens her gifts.
A tingle goes down the back of my neck. Glancing over my shoulder at the archway between the main room and the hallway, I spy Marco standing half in shadow. His smile gives me a hitch in my chest. He nods his head slightly at me. It’s a subtle movement, but I understand. A flutter goes through me.
I excuse myself from the table and duck into the hall, letting him pull me against his chest and drop a slow, deep, hungry kiss on my lips. When we finally part, we’re both out of breath.
“What was that for?” I ask. “Not that I’m complaining.”
Instead of answering, he slides his fingers through mine and leads me down the dark hall.
“Um, Marco?” I say. “The party’s back there.”
But he just keeps pulling me further away.
When we reach an arched alcove, he steps into the recessed niche and tugs me close to kiss me again. Things get hot and heavy so fast; I decide I’m done asking questions. When Marco slips his hands up my shirt to cup my breasts through my bra, I let out a gasp.
“Should we stop?” he whispers against my mouth.
“Never.”
He hoists me up onto a ledge in the niche and I hike up my skirt and spread my legs, wrapping them around his waist. I stroke the back of his neck as our tongues tangle, losing myself in the moment.
Soft moans escape me as he pushes my bra up and rolls my tingling nipples between his fingers.
I love how fast my body responds to him, how intuitively he touches me.
Marco steps back, breathing hard, just long enough to slide off my underwear and stuff it in his pocket. His eyes lock onto mine as he unzips his pants, freeing his hard cock. He gives it a few pumps, then steps forward so he’s between my legs again.
My mouth is dry, but my pussy is wet, wet, wet. I can’t believe we’re about to have sex in this alcove, right down the hall from the party. It sounds like everybody in there is fully distracted, but we could get caught at any moment.
For some reason, the thought only fuels my desire.
I reach down and wrap my hand around him, tracing my opening with the tip of his cock.
Marco heaves a harsh breath, but he doesn’t push inside me.
He’s letting me take charge. I lean back against the wall and slide forward on the ledge so he can get as close as possible.
Then I feed him into me, one fat inch at a time, urging him deeper and deeper, my free hand on his ass.
Marco groans, fully sheathed now, and nuzzles my ear. “You’re always so wet for me.”
“You make me that way.”
Both hands on his ass now, I trail my lips over his neck as I set the pace.
I pull him hard into me and then ease my grip, drive him deep inside me again and then ease up again.
He follows my lead, making it easy for me to find the perfect rhythm.
This is slower than we usually fuck, but each time I feel him spearing so deep and hard into me, it takes all my willpower not to come.
“Does that cock feel good?” he whispers.
“It’s just a good angle,” I tease, more than a little breathless.
“Is that all?” he asks. “The angle?”
“Mm-hmm.”
In retaliation for my teasing, he stops thrusting, buried inside me but staying motionless—all it does is turn me on more. I squeeze him tight with the muscles at my core, making him groan again as I shiver at how full my pussy feels. How right this feels.
“You fit me so perfectly,” he says. “I could stay here forever.”
I drag his lips toward mine for another kiss, then grip his hips so I can drive him into me again. Again, again, again. I start to come before I even realize it’s happening, moaning into his mouth as I grind against his plunging cock.
“More, more, more,” I pant, feeling myself break apart. “Yes.”
“I’ll give you more. Come here.”
Marco lifts me off the ledge and leans back against the wall so he can bounce me on his dick, thrusting up into me hard and fast. He’s like a jackhammer, a machine, relentlessly fucking me, and as my orgasm reaches its bright peak, I give up trying to meet his movements.
I bury my face in his neck and squeeze my legs around his waist, holding on as tightly as I can, letting him take over, letting him take what he needs, letting him use my body for his own pleasure.
“So good,” I hiss, still coming in slow, relentless waves. “So fucking good.”
Suddenly I feel him get even harder, feel him tense up. With a helpless groan, he starts to come too, his cock pulsing as he gushes his release inside me.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, Marco, yes.”
For a minute we just hold each other, riding out the shockwaves together.
Finally he kisses me and then murmurs against my lips, “I know we’re not ready yet, but we’ll have that baby eventually.”
“Yes,” I say again, every part of me filled with warmth and light.
My eyes close and I cling to my husband, breathing in his comforting, familiar scent. That’s when I know for sure: I do want to have Marco’s baby. I want to build a family with him, a life with him. But he’s right—we’re not ready. It’s not the right time for a child. Not yet.
But just knowing that he wants a family as much as I do gives me hope for our future.