CHAPTER 9
MARCELLO
I woke up before her. The sun was creeping into the room, casting soft gold across the sheets, warming the air with that quiet, early-morning stillness I’d forgotten existed. Her body was warm against mine—soft, steady, real in a way I wasn’t used to waking up to.
Her curves pressed into me; her ass nestled against my growing hardness, her sleepy breath brushing my arm. I traced her naked body slowly, from shoulder to hip, placing a light kiss on her shoulder, barely a whisper against her warm skin. She stirred, pressing back into me, and my breath hitched.
I had lost control—lost every scrap of restraint the moment I saw her on the balcony—moonlight tracing the curves of her body, the lazy sway of her hips, the teasing tilt of her shoulder, and the soft rustle of her hair in the night breeze.
I had felt an animalistic urge ignite in me. I had to have her.
I’d told her I’d join her during the day, but I couldn’t.
Lorenzo had arrived in Florence, and I knew he wasn’t here for art and wine.
I did everything I could. Still, one of my shipments was seized because of him.
That bastard knew exactly where to hit me.
I had to pull strings from the highest ranks, call in favours I hadn’t touched in years, to get it released.
My jaw ached from how hard I’d been grinding it all afternoon.
But when I saw her—shirt undone, nipples taut, chest rising with each breath—my body responded instantly.
I needed release. I needed her. All the anger, all the chaos—I forgot it in a single breath.
Then I heard the soft click of the door unlocking. She’d opened the door between us. The dynamic had shifted. She took the first step. The woman whose scent had haunted me for three days—warm, heady, maddening—had initiated something towards me. My pulse kicked hard.
I waited—one second, two—anticipating she’d open it, but she didn’t. Maybe it was the same restraint I’d seen in her before—in the jet, in the villa, in the way she held herself like a secret.
I didn’t think. I wanted her, needed her.
My patience snapped. I swung the door open before I could let logic and reason take over.
Before she could react, I grabbed her and kissed her—hard, hungry.
She was stunned, but I didn’t let go. I pressed harder, and her lips parted—inviting my tongue into her warm, sweet mouth, tinged with the taste of wine. And she tasted sweet and intoxicating.
Her nails dug into my shoulder—sharp, urgent, claiming, dragging heat across my skin.
I tore her shirt open, my hands already tracing the softness of her breasts, before sucking one.
I peeled the fabric away in desperation, needing to see her—the woman who’d been haunting my thoughts—whole, raw, unhidden. I didn’t want to slow down.
A flicker of hesitation crossed her eyes briefly. It should have slowed me, but it didn't. I wanted to see her. All of her.
My voice dropped low enough to sound like a command. It scraped out of me, rougher than I intended.
She stripped slowly, slipping off her shorts. She was bare underneath and my breath caught. She looked beautiful and I couldn’t hold back any longer. My fingers twitched with the need to touch her, sink into her.
I dropped my towel, letting my arousal stand bare between us. She looked at me with temptation in her eyes and hunger on her lips. And when she licked her lips, I nearly growled. So animalistic, so unlike me. I felt heat crawl up my spine.
I pushed her to the bed, and in one swift, unthinking motion, I was inside her, warmth drawing me in before I could think. She was wet, ready—her body wrapping around mine like it had been made to hold me. Like her body recognised mine. Like she was meant to absorb me whole.
A sound tore out of me before I could stop it. I wanted to consume her, fill her, break her open and make her mine. But she pulled me in just as fiercely.
In that moment, my resolve dissolved. I didn’t want to hold back anymore. I kissed her with a hunger so deep—a silent apology for not being with her today.
None of the women I’d been with had her rhythm. She didn’t just lie there—she moved with me, instinctively, perfectly synced. I felt it in the way she clung to me, the way her soft legs wrapped around my waist, drawing me deeper.
Then I felt her tighten around me—once, then again, then a third time, each wave gripping me harder. My thighs trembled with the effort to hold back, my pulse hammering in time with hers.
I hadn’t reached for protection. I hadn’t even thought of it. The idea of anything dulling that closeness—anything separating skin from skin—hadn’t crossed my mind. She would’ve stopped me if she wasn’t ready. I chose not to question it.
I didn’t stop. Not when the sheets were damp with us. Not until I reached my edge and came with her—breath tangled, bodies locked. Her name nearly slipped from my mouth.
I don’t know what came over me, but I didn’t want to let go. I held her close, protectively and fell into the deepest sleep I’d had in years.
I hadn’t slept like that since Elaine. Not truly. Not without the armour I’d worn for years. She didn’t just take my body. She took the weight off my chest. And for a few hours, I forgot what it meant to be hunted. Forgot the shadows that follow my name.
I’d been with women, slept beside them. But this was different.
She made me feel different. My stone shell was softening slowly, dangerously—like her curves against me.
Her warmth seeped into places I’d kept cold, places I’d forgotten could feel warm.
I wanted to stretch this morning into eternity, hold her, stay here. Let the world wait.
But I didn’t know her really. Not what she wanted. Not her story, her restraint, her resolve. She wore a chain with the letter ‘K’, I wondered who it was for. The question sat heavy on my tongue.
I wanted to know what she carried close to her heart. I knew for sure she wasn’t married. I didn’t see a ring on her finger. Women like her would definitely wear one, loud and proud.
I smiled at the soft sound of her breathing, kissed her shoulder once more. I slipped out of bed quietly, showered and decided to ask the maids to prepare breakfast before she woke.
I wanted the morning to feel… intentional. Not accidental.