Chapter 30
You like my lips?
brOOKLYN
Swirling my tongue on Marco’s earlobe, I kissed the spot and moved down, flattening my tongue before kissing the side of his neck.
Shifting myself on his lap, the only thing preventing his cock from rubbing my center was the minimal barrier of my panties.
My light pink silk nightshirt lifted up slightly in the back even though it had a high-low hem, the smooth fabric slipping through Marco’s hands as he held me by my backside.
“Chip me?” I asked, alluding to wanting another salt and vinegar chip from the bowl he’d sat on the seat next to him.
The seat I was supposed to be in but had decided to vacate in favor of straddling his lap and doting on him.
He reached between us with the chip, feeding it to me as I groaned in delight at the way the flavors danced on my tongue. “You know, you might want to turn around to see the television.” Nudging his chin, he tried to get me to look that way. “Unless you would rather I shut it off.”
On his last word, I pulled on the bottom of his lip, the corners of my lips slowly tugging upward as the ghost of a smile played on them.
“As it turns out, I have a thing for men with tattoos.” Closing my eyes, I ran my tongue across the ink, and he surprised me by flicking the tip of my tongue with his own.
Drawing back, I tapped his lip with my finger. They were one of my favorite things on him, and that was saying a lot because I didn’t have any complaints.
“Men?” he growled, his brown eyes darkening as he lifted my ass up slightly, squeezing it before placing me back down on his lap.
My cheeks reddened. “Yes, men.” I gave him a dignified glare, tilting my chin upward as I tried not to chuckle.
“You better change that answer,” he teased, creeping his hand up my back over the fabric of my shirt.
Heat ran down my spine. “Why?” I asked, drawing his bottom lip in with my teeth and pulling on it hard.
He didn’t even flinch. ”Do you not like that I still find other men hot even though I’m with you?
” I asked, paying attention to his neck now as I nuzzled it.
The desire to mark him was strong, but I knew he would undoubtedly return the favor, and I didn’t find walking around with a hickey appealing.
“No, because I’m not an imbecile. We’re together, but you’re not dead. Having a thing for other men is another thing, though.”
Without me even having to ask, he put a chip in front of me, and I opened my mouth, letting him feed me once more.
He watched me carefully.
Closely.
Never taking his eyes off of me as I chewed.
Slowly.
When I was done, I darted my tongue out to lick my lips clean of any remnants, but he stopped me, gripping my jaw.
Neither one of us spoke, and the sound of our own hearts thundering filled the air.
With a strong grip on my jaw, he maneuvered me the way he wanted me, angling my head as he licked my lips with precision. He took pride in what he did, and I liked that. A lot.
“Oh, Sparky, I only have a thing for one man, and he has ink on the inside of his big, full lips,” I said earnestly, the words slipping from my mouth like a confession of some sort.
He smirked smugly. “You like my lips?”
Nodding, I raked my teeth over my own. “I like when they’re on mine—” I touched them to demonstrate.
“—and when they’re wrapped around my nipples—” I pinched one of my nipples through the fabric, pulling before releasing it.
My whole body felt like it was on fire, on the edge of a cliff, and I was so ready to fall down to my death.
“—and when they’re on my pussy.”
I allowed my hand to trail down, lightly fingering the area, knowing I couldn’t take any more. Plus, it wouldn’t have been the same. I needed his special touch.
“That’s all?” He tilted his head, never paying my roaming hand any attention.
“That’s the beginning,” I purred, clinging to him again. “You don’t find other women hot, do you?” I batted my lashes.
“Of course not.” His expression was inscrutable.
I narrowed my eyes. “Marco, don’t lie to me.”
Scratching his cheek, he responded, “Honestly, I try not to give it a second thought. Why bother? You take up enough of my time.”
I wasn’t high maintenance if that was what he was trying to get at. “Not cool.”
He exhaled, his warm breath hitting me square in the face, and I tightened my thighs. “It’s actually kind of a good thing.”
“How do you figure that?”
Shrugging, he tapped my nose. “It’s how you’ll know for sure I won’t cheat on you. Between you and my family, I simply don’t have the time.”
“And?”
He shifted, stretching to reach the remote on the end table. “And that’s it.” The television powered off, and he broke out into laughter. “And I can’t imagine being with anyone else.”
Extra comical this one was. A real comedian. He missed his calling. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Ignoring that, I went on to trace his other ink. The one on his arm. There was something so beautiful about it. It was permanent and a symbol of something. “Maybe I should get tatted up,” I thought aloud.
“Tatted up?” Cocking a brow, he skimmed his thumb across my cheek.
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
“Do you want a tattoo?” he asked, regarding me closely.
When he put it like that… “No.” I’d removed my last one, and I didn’t necessarily want another.
“Then you shouldn’t get one.”
He made it sound so easy. It was anything but when I thought of all the ways I could surprise him with one.
I wanted him to cherish it on my body in the same way I did his.
I couldn’t give that to him, though, and it irked me a little.
“But I think it would be nice to brand myself with your name.” Right above my pussy, so when he drove into me, he could smile to himself, knowing he was only marking me, claiming me in another way, again.
Because I already belonged to him permanently.
In my head, it was one of the most romantic things.
His smirk spread. “I would like that, but only if it’s something you really want.”
My excitement morphed into sadness momentarily. I wanted to give him everything because that was what he deserved in my opinion. “It’s not, but maybe I can get a temporary tattoo or something with an M.” That seemed like a good compromise.
“I’ll like it just as much.” His grin seeped through his words, his muscles rigid beneath me.
“I saw a blue bird today,” I said randomly. At least, it was random to him.
For me, I was testing something out. I had recently read about bird theory and how it was a great way to see if you and your partner were compatible.
People were saying it gave them insight into how long they would last as a couple.
I had a feeling we were going to do great, and Marco was going to pass with flying colors.
He only had to react to my statement in a way that wasn’t merely brushing me off, more so genuinely curious and wanting to continue to talk to me.
However, if everything we had been doing this evening was any indication, it wasn’t going to be a problem.
I couldn’t speak for him, but I could stay like this forever, talking about anything and everything with him.
Angling his head, he elevated an eyebrow. “Do you know what kind of blue bird it was?”
My pulse sped up, and my palms grew sweaty as I splayed them over his black ribbed tank top. We were compatible, and we were going to be just fine. “I know it wasn’t a blue jay because it had an orange-brown chest.”
“It must have been an Eastern Bluebird.”
“How are you sure?”
“They’re like Northern Cardinals, residents of the city. They don’t migrate.”
Blinking, I laughed. “Explain.” I couldn’t process this idea that he knew so much about this particular topic. I mean, how? When? It felt like I had so many questions, so he should probably just start from the beginning.
Scratching his arm with his opposite hand, he grinned. “Carmine used to use bird watching as a way to pick up ladies.”
I knew there were a ton in the city, so people often brought their binoculars with them to Central Park, but I’d never known anyone to make a hobby out of it. A real life bird watcher. Well, in the past tense, that was. “And that worked?” I spluttered, still shocked by this notion.
“Sometimes.”
I couldn’t believe this was the first time I was hearing about this.
I was going to give Capri some real shit about not telling me before.
This was like prime gossip. It was actually interesting to me when I thought about it.
The way I shared my secrets and gossiped more with Marco nowadays.
Of course, there were still things I kept to myself, only feeling comfortable enough to share with Capri.
It was reassuring actually because things had definitely shifted in my life, but that seemed to be something that would never shift…
our friendship. “That phase definitely ended?” I was talking about Carmine and his thing with birds, but I was also talking about something bigger than that.
Taking me out of my head, he circled the conversation back around to the beginning. “Yeah, but sometimes he would take me along with him. It was boring, but I picked up on a few things. It was kind of hard not to.”
“Speaking of Carmine—”
“Not necessarily what I prefer to be talking about.”
I ran my hands over his pecs, relishing in how muscular they were. “I’m serious. Is he, or any of your brothers, attending the cocktail fête?”
I had never been to one, but I knew these things happened on Madison Avenue quite often.
Each time, the Delucas were present. Not all of them, but some.
Capri almost never attended, and neither did Siena.
However, these events were typically for a charity event or gala of some sort, and they were almost always splattered across the front pages of every popular news outlet.
You couldn’t pass a newspaper stand without seeing the headline.