Fall from India Place Page 49

I pushed into him, closer, as close as I could get, my lips brushing his. “I hate him,” I whispered hoarsely, feeling the burn of tears in my eyes. “I hate him so much.”

“Ssh, baby.” He kissed me lightly, rubbing his hands up and down my spine. “Don’t. I’ve let it all go.”

I nodded, but the tears escaped anyway, and I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face against his neck.

“It was all worth it to get this at the end of it,” he murmured.

I was overwhelmed by my need to make everything better for him – wishing I’d been there back then, to take his pain away. From here on out, I wanted to make it so he never felt that way again, so that he always felt loved.

Yes, loved.

Because I did, I realized.

I’d fallen deeply in love again with Marco D’Alessandro.

After a day of fooling around in the cottage, followed by a brisk walk down by the loch, we ended up having dinner at a nice restaurant in the local village before returning to the cottage. As we settled in for the evening, the only sound to be heard for miles was the crackling of the fire in the grate. Despite our romantic surroundings I’d been a little on edge, waiting for Marco to finally bring up what it was he wanted to discuss with me.

At last, as I lay against his side on the sofa, my legs tangled in his, I prompted, “You wanted to talk?”

Marco was silent for a moment as he drew circles on my bare shoulder with the tip of his finger. “Liv said something,” he replied, his voice low and amused in the quiet room. “It was that Sunday we had lunch at your mom’s. She said that you once planned an ambush with her. She took you to D’Alessandro’s so you could corner me and get me to talk to you because I’d been ignoring you. Is that true?”

I closed my eyes, every muscle in my body coiled tightly. Why would Liv bring that up to him? Why would he bring that up to me?

Embarrassed, annoyed, and feeling unbelievably vulnerable even though I knew Marco would never want me to feel that way, I stared broodingly into the fire. The night before in bed with Marco had been a far greater moment of vulnerability for the both us. However…

That had been about Marco’s past and our present.

This was about our past.

I was avoiding our past. Reminders weren’t good.

“Yeah, so?”

At my tone, his arm tightened around me. “I just couldn’t remember why I was ignoring you. I guess I wanted to remember because I’m trying to make up for everything shitty I ever did to you.”

Oh, no. We could definitely not go there tonight.

I pulled away from him, throwing him a tight smile in response to his questioning frown. “I feel like I need a shower. I’ll be back in a bit.” I was gone before he could say a word.

Stripping out of my clothes quickly, I jumped in the hot shower and leaned my forehead against the cool tiles. I tried breathing in and out slowly to ease my anxiety.

It wasn’t long before the shower door opened behind me, but I didn’t turn around. I felt his heat all around me as Marco stepped inside. I lifted my head from the tiles, my back immediately hitting his chest.

His hands drifted lightly up the curve of my waist, fingertips trailing a featherlight path over my ribs, until he was cupping my br**sts in his palms. I sighed, resting my head on his shoulder, arching into his touch.

His thumbs brushed over my pebbled ni**les and my lower belly rippled with arousal.

Without saying a word, Marco played my body, touching me, caressing me, kneading me. As I panted for breath, he slipped his hand between my legs and pushed his fingers inside me. I leaned my hands on the tiles in front of me and rode his fingers.

“Fuck me,” I groaned in desperation.

Suddenly Marco’s fingers were gone, my hips were gripped hard in his hands, and his c**k was gliding into me. I cried out at the fullness of him inside me and reared back into his gentle thrusts.

He cupped my right breast again, pressing me back into him as he squeezed it while his other hand moved between my legs. His fingers slid over my clit, back and forth, as he continued to f**k me in slow, tormenting thrusts.

I rested the back of my head on his chest, my hands on his hips behind me, desperate for satisfaction. He pushed me toward it, until my whole body stiffened.

Marco felt it and started pumping harder, faster.

The tension inside me broke apart, the orgasm quivering through my whole body as my eyes fluttered closed in absolute bliss.

I melted against Marco and he held me tighter, his breath hot on my skin, his grunts and pants increasing as he chased his own climax. And then suddenly I felt his teeth on my shoulder as his body tightened a few seconds before his hips jerked hard with release.

He pressed me against the tiles, his body shuddering as he came inside me.

“Fuck,” he breathed, caressing my bottom.

I shivered, my heart still racing in my chest.

That had been intense.

And apparently Marco wasn’t done with intense.

He pulled out of me slowly, but I didn’t even have time to regret the loss of him before he spun me around to face him. I stared up at him to find his expression fierce. His grip on my shoulders was uncompromising. “When we were kids, I was in love with you.”

Surprise, gratification, relief, sheer joy… it all moved through me as my eyes widened at his abrupt confession.

“That never went away, Hannah.” He rested his forehead against mine. “And now that I know you again, I’m even more in love with you.”

Oh, shit. My throat closed up. I knew, I just knew, I couldn’t say it back yet.

“Ssh,” he murmured, feeling my tension. He kissed me gently. “I can wait for you to say it. I just wanted you to know how I feel. Nothing will change that.” His eyes searched mine. “Whatever that was out there, stop. I don’t want you to be sore about our past anymore. It’s done. We can’t take it back. But we have now. And now is good.”

Too emotional to form words, I just nodded and wrapped my arms around him. I rested my head on his chest, near his heart, and let him hold me as the warm water cascaded over us.


The next morning, I sighed regretfully as I tidied away all evidence of our visit to the cottage. When Marco came in from putting our bags in the car and saw the uncharacteristic pout on my lips, he cracked a smile. “Back to reality.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Do we have to?”

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