Making Mina 3: Compromising Positions Read online

  “You say that, but there’s a wrinkle between your eyes,” his voice was deceptively gentle, and as he went on his arms tightened, “and I can feel the tension in your body.”

  Mina tilted her head back, watching their reflection in the long mirror. Blonde curls cascaded down her back in wild disarray, and her eyes reflected the deep blue of her dress. A dark hand had crept upwards, wrapping lightly around the long column of her throat, feeling her pulse as it pounded there at its base, as the other splayed down over her stomach, pressing her ever more tightly against him.

  “I don’t think,” she started, but he cut her off, his voice dark and full of promise.

  “Good. Don’t.” Marco’s mouth dropped to where his hand had been just before, savoring the fluttering of her heartbeat against his lips. “Feel. This isn’t something you can plan or organize.” He nipped at her earlobe and she arched back further into his arms, her breath a faint hiss in the quiet room. “This is just you, and me, and how I can make you shiver and sigh with pleasure. It’s about letting yourself lose control until all you can do is clutch at my arms and scream my name.”

  Her glossily manicured nails did just that--digging into the silk of his shirt and holding him tightly, as if she was afraid he’d disappear if she let him go.

  “Marco,” his name came out more breathily than she wanted and he nodded to her in the mirror, “Please.”

  “Yes, Mina mia,” he said. “I please.” His eyes were hot and he looked almost feral. Her insides liquefied at the predatory tone in his voice, and she stiffened for an instant in his hands, the power he had over her both terrifying and tempting. Temptation quickly won out, though, and she squirmed as the newly familiar heat spread through her body melting her resistance like a snowflake in a furnace.

  Marco’s teeth scraped along the tender tendon below her ear, and she unconsciously shifted when she felt the hooks holding the halter of her dress closed at the nape of her neck loosen. The movement allowed the shimmering fabric to slip down her front and catch at her waist before falling the rest of the way to the floor, and she was shocked at the sudden eroticism of her naked image in the mirror.

  Her face was flushed and the color extended down her chest, her nipples a shade darker than what tinged her cheeks. Her eyes were glazed with desire and Marco’s never left hers, even as his hands explored her newly exposed skin.

  “So beautiful,” he growled, cupping her breasts firmly, catching their rosy tips between those long fingers she loved. Overcome with desire, Mina pushed her ass back and rolled her hips against him in a movement that was so unlike her that she couldn’t help but blush even hotter. Marco groaned and the next thing she knew he’d spun her in his arms and was kissing her.

  It wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was possession and plunder and pure passion. His tongue plunged between her lips, and then pulled back again, drawing her into his mouth, over and over until they were both gasping for air. Mina buried her fingers in his hair, tugging him closer, moaning deeply in her throat at the sensations racing through her.

  Marco abandoned her lips and bent his head hungrily to capture a rigid nipple, swiping his tongue over the puckered tip, sucking on it gently for a moment before releasing it, only to skim across her chest to repeat the actions with its twin.

  Mina was clinging to his shoulders, trying to hold herself upright as he ravished her breasts, pulling ineffectually at the cloth covering them. She was desperate to feel his skin against hers, and a growl of her own escaped her, shocking both of them, as she attacked the buttons of his shirt, pushing the fine fabric down his arms so she could nip and suck at his skin.

  Her hands skimmed lower finding the buckle of his belt, working feverishly to open his trousers.

  “Need you.” Her voice was harsh with hunger and she heard him let out a rough laugh as he shoved the last lacy scrap of fabric covering her out of the way, wetness smearing along her thigh as her panties were shoved to the floor.

  “You need me?” He asked, hands slipping around to cup her bottom possessively. Mina wrapped her legs around his hips and buried her face in his neck.

  “Ye-e-ss,” she groaned, rubbing her soaking wet slit against him. “Need you now.” She punctuated her demand with a sharp nip at his neck and Marco sucked a hissing breath through his teeth.

  “You little hellcat,” he sounded almost proud and she arched her back to press her naked breasts more firmly against him.

  “If I am,” she said, her own eyes dark and demanding, “you made me this way.”

  It was true. She’d never been like this before. Never felt this way before.

  Marco rose to her challenge shifting his weight and turning with her in his arms until he could drop both of them on the king sized bed behind them.

  The impact knocked the breath out of her and Mina let out a little yelp of surprise as she found herself splayed out across the mattress. The cool cotton sheets felt icy against her overheated skin, and she hissed at the sensation. Marco took advantage of her distraction and slotted himself between her legs, pressing against her dripping core.

  “This is what you want.” He dipped the head of his cock between her pussy lips, his way made easy by the font of wetness there. Again and again he teased, pushing forward an inch or two and then retreating, until she was squirming beneath him, begging for more.

  “Yes! That’s what I want. You’re what I want.” She knew how desperate she sounded, but didn’t care. She wanted him--this part of him, and every other--and while it was hard to admit sometimes, passion always stripped away her fear and only left her longing.

  A sound of masculine satisfaction echoed in her ear and Mina dug her high heeled sandals into the back of Marco’s leg, encouraging him to give her more, deeper, faster.

  Marco set his own pace, though, her slickness allowing him to slide almost frictionlessly into her, the slow pistoning of his hips driving her closer and closer to the edge.

  “You say that, but I sometimes wonder,” he murmured, speeding up his movements. “I’ve sensed,” he rotated his hips and hit that magic spot inside her, dragging a groan from her, “reluctance in you lately.”

  This is reluctance? The thought brought a hysterical bubble of laughter to Mina’s throat. She’d never given this much of herself to Ethan--to anyone. It was so new and different that the strength of her feelings still frightened her. And he wants more?

  Conscious thoughts were driven from her head as Marco demanded all of her attention, snapping his hips forward quickly, fucking her hard and deep. He wanted everything from her and he was taking what he wanted.

  “Is that funny?” His voice was low and raspy with some unfathomable emotion, and he plunged so deeply into her that Mina moaned under the onslaught. “Maybe I should stop. Maybe you want to leave. Go back to Miami.” Each sentence was punctuated with a slow thrust of his hips, his cock so deep she couldn’t imagine the emptiness she’d feel if he stopped.

  Her eyes opened and she searched for his, trying to focus on him through her pleasure induced haze. Golden light streamed across the bed, but it cast Marco’s face into shadow, and she shivered under him. Sometimes it was hard for her to forget how dangerous he was--to her life and her heart--but it was rarely this close to the surface. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  Marco watched her, his movements slowing to a cruel crawl. His possession was just as thorough, but the pace felt like a careful insult.

  “Imagine my surprise this afternoon,” he said, eyes burning in the darkness, “when my brother,” he pushed even deeper, “took me to task for not attending to… your… needs.”

  Mina tried to follow the conversation, but it was hard to separate thought from sensation. His brother? Giovanni?

  “I don’t understand.” Mina licked dry lips and tried to concentrate. “What does Giovanni have to do with anything?”

  The moment she said Giovanni, Marco’s control snapped. The careful pace he’d set was blown away as whatever devil was driving him la
shed him into a frenzy.

  “Exactly,” he said, “what does he have to do with anything?” He grabbed her wrists and held them over her head, pinning them with one huge hand. The other hand found a nipple, tugging and tweaking it until it was an angry rose. Each movement sent a current through her until she was arching up off the bed into him, her body bowed in pleasure.

  “You’re mine, Mina,” he growled as he pulled her forward, his breath hot in her ear. “Your needs are my concern, no one else’s--not Ethan’s and certainly not Giovanni’s.”

  Possessiveness and anger laced the words, and understanding crashed through Mina like lightning. My God! He’s jealous! But the thought barely had time to register before she found herself swept up in Marco’s arms. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing, arms wrapped around her tightly as he raised their joined bodies, kneeling beneath her, his cock buried as deeply as possible inside her. He covered her in biting kisses, from her lips to her nipples, never releasing his grip.

  “Tell me,” he demanded, her nipple slipping from his mouth with a wet pop, “tell me that you belong to me, only me, Mina mia.”

  An insistent finger found the spot where their bodies were joined and she whimpered as he pressed on the little knob of nerves there. Mina felt the callous on his finger rubbing against her sensitive skin, each rasp pushing her higher until she felt she must throw herself out into space or plunge into the abyss.

  A tiny voice in her head wailed that it wasn’t fair, that he was using the responses of her body to force an answer, but it was drowned by a chorus of “yes, yours, please, please, please.” She knew she needed him, and now she knew he needed her--even if just for a moment. It was enough.

  She leaned into his embrace, wrapping her legs around his hips, snugging herself even more tightly against him. Her heels caught in the expensive duvet and she groaned as he continued to rub her clit with the hand she’d trapped between them.

  Resting her forehead against his she wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes. The anger that had flared there so recently was gone; Mina hoped it was gone for good.

  “I don’t want you to stop.” She shifted, rolling her hips a little to show him what she wanted. “I don’t want to leave. I don’t want Miami, or Ethan, or Gio-fucking-vanni.” She let her own anger move her as she gripped his shoulders and levered herself against him, rising and falling on his still rigid cock.

  “All I want,” she forced the words out even ask she felt her orgasm bearing down on her like a freight train, “is you.”

  Marco’s hands were on her ass, guiding her up and down in the motion they both needed. Mina’s fingers left bloody little half-moons where her nails dug into his shoulders but Marco continued to fuck her through the tight-fisted sucking of her cunt around him, stroking into her relentlessly until she keened through a second orgasm.

  Her orgasm pulled him over the edge with her. He flipped them over and pounded into her, his rhythm becoming more and more erratic as he approached his own climax. Words spilled from his lips, a jumble where “mine” was the only word Mina could recognize in a litany of Italian, as Marco came deep inside her, his body throbbing and jerking in release.

  Heavy in completion, he pinned her to the bed and Mina stroked a shaking hand down his back as they caught their breath. She looked down at the back of the dark head lying on her breasts and knew that nothing was ever going to be the same.

  “I am sorry.” Marco’s voice was muffled against her skin and she sighed.

  “You should be.” There wasn’t any venom in her voice, but she wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily. She’d done nothing to make him think she was paying attention to anyone but him. Hell, she’d put up with his mother, and with the male chauvinist dominated Italian culture without complaining--he shouldn’t doubt her so easily.

  Marco pulled back, his eyes taking in her body as it lay before him. Her legs were still splayed wide, their mixed fluids smeared across them. Her breasts were pink, rasped raw by the faint stubble on his cheeks, but her eyes were bright and full of questions, but free of accusations.

  He was a lucky man.

  “Are you going to explain what that was all about?” Mina pulled herself gingerly to the edge of the bed trying to make sure she didn’t trip herself by getting tangled in the bedclothes. She stood on unsteady legs, grimacing as wetness dripped down her legs. “I need another shower.”

  Marco stood quickly, holding her tightly against him. “No.” He kissed the line of her shoulder, before turning her face and dropping a tender kiss on her lips. “I love seeing you like this. Seeing the evidence of our lovemaking on your body.” His eyes darkened again as he dragged a hand up from her hip, sliding up her side, cupping her still swollen breast. “Stay like this.” He kissed her more intently. “For me. Please.”

  The “please” was her undoing. She shook her head, disconcerted by both his demand and at her impulse to comply.

  “I have to clean up a little,” she said finally, only willing to go so far to fulfill Marco’s need to mark his territory. “I’m not going to make a spectacle of myself in front of everyone tonight.” Especially your mother, she thought with a mental eyeroll.

  Unembarrassed by his nakedness, Marco led her through to the en suite bath and leaned her gently against the vanity. Standing there silently, Mina watched as he wet a cloth with warm water and wrung it out before lifting her leg and rubbing it along her skin, wiping away the most noticeable evidence of their lovemaking. She watched the muscles flex and move under his skin, his naked body a thing of beauty, and she wondered at her own lack of embarrassment as he washed the traces of his come from her thighs.

  “No one else will know,” he said, his voice so low it was hard for her to catch it. “But every time I see you dance with another man, I’ll know that your pussy is still filled with my come, and every time you feel the wetness you’ll remember that no one makes you feel the way I do. No one.” A final swipe of the now cool cloth against her still swollen labia sent a new round of shudders through her and Marco smiled at her response.

  “So beautiful. So responsive.” He pulled her into his arms and she melted against him, her nipples hard against his bare chest, her breathing staccato in the quiet room. “And all mine.”

  There was no point in arguing. “Yes. All yours.”

  Marco swept her up into his arms and carried her back to the long mirror. Efficient movements had him dressed in moments before he turned to help her into her dress. Her underwear were past salvaging and when she opened a drawer to pull out a new pair Marco stopped her.

  “You won’t need them,” he said. Kneeling beside her he carefully lifted one high-heeled foot slipping her dress over it, followed by the other. A shake and twist and she was covered again, the collar hooks fixed and her hair smoothed, her dress surprisingly undamaged by their abuse of it. She looked at herself in the long mirror, sensory overload making her feel slightly dazed. Her earlier concern about her exposed back now seemed ridiculous. She was naked except for a layer of cobalt silk, her nipples hard, her pussy soaked--who was going to care about a her bare back?

  She was still in a fog, allowing Marco to tend to her, when an insistent knocking jerked her back to reality.

  “What’s keeping you two… ?” A friendly voice accompanied the knock, the bedroom door swinging open suddenly. Giovanni Genovese took one look at the pair of them and immediately stepped back into the hall.

  “I beg your pardon,” he said, eyes flitting from Marco’s stiffening shoulders to Mina’s wide eyes and kiss swollen lips. His gaze traveled further, taking her unsteady stance, and flickering over the wildly mussed sheets on the king sized bed. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  Marco put himself between Mina and his brother’s gaze, a low rumble in his chest the only warning necessary. Giovanni raised a hand to calm him and shook his head.

  “Do not blame the messenger,” he pointed to himself, “but Mamma sent me to remind you that
you have guests arriving and that since she is not your wife,” his eyes flickered to Mina over Marco’s shoulder, “it is not her job to entertain your clients.”

  Marco allowed his stance to relax and nodded once at his little brother. “Thank you, Gio.” He shook his head once as if to clear it. “It seems I have lost track of time. Tell Mamma I apologize for the delay and that we’ll be right down.”

  Something passed between the brothers that Mina didn’t understand, but finally Giovanni nodded. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll greet your guests.” He nodded in Mina’s direction. “You take whatever time you need. Mamma can wait.” Suddenly he winked and gave the smile Mina remembered. “It will probably be good for her.”

  Marco returned the smile, if a little less enthusiastically. “Yes, but I doubt it will be good for me.”

  “Oh I know it won’t be good for you,” the grin widened. “But then again, you always were her favorite. She might forgive you. In a year or two.” He shut the door, his laughter fading as he headed down the hall.

  “It’s me she’s going to blame,” Mina said quietly, stepping away from Marco’s protective position. “She’s never going to like me.”

  “Don’t be so certain.” Marco slipped his tie around his neck and quickly knotted it, every movement elegant and efficient. “She told me yesterday that she was amazed that you’d put up with me for so long.”

  Mina doubted that was the extent of the comment, but she didn’t push. She leaned forward and tried to smooth her curls into some sort of order that didn’t scream “just fucked,” and sighed.

  It was going to be a long night.

  ***

  Marco’s mother lied.

  When Mina and Marco finally made their way into the large salon, cocktails were being served and Bianca Genovese was expertly handling the influx of guests, air-kissing some and embracing others, every inch the hostess she denied being.

  She cast a gimlet eye over her elder offspring and turned away without acknowledging him, tilting her head to catch something being said to her by a handsome man who looked like he’d like to get to know her much better. She laughed and it was a rolling, sensual sound, causing Mina to look twice. That wasn’t a sound she expected from the rigid woman she’d encountered all week.