Page 12 of Forbidden Bride (Forbidden 1)
KARINA
He doesn’t sayanything as he takes my hand and pulls me through the noise and chaos of the crowd. My heart is in my throat. I have a flicker of fear that someone will spot us, but everyone is so intent on the winner’s circle that the fear dissipates with each passing second.
He came for me. Just when I thought it was over.
We’re hurrying along so quickly that I wonder if he’s also worried about being spotted. But I don’t care. The only thing that matters now is the thrill at having his fingers tightly entwined with mine. My feet barely hit the ground as I follow him behind the track and into the shadows. There’s no one back here…at least, not yet.
It doesn’t scare me to think about getting caught this time, though. So what if we do? I’ve got one more chance to be with him, and I’m taking it.
We slip past a private entrance that only the drivers and their teams use and then duck beneath the stands, hidden almost completely from view. He smiles down at me, and it robs my breath. Moving closer, he pulls me in tight so my chest meets his. His hair is damp with sweat and flattened from wearing his helmet. I wish I could run my fingers through it, mussing it even more and loving every strand.
I look up at him, and all I can stammer is, “Hi.”
He lowers his head, nearly meeting my lips with his. “Hi. My name is Marco.”
A shudder goes through me. Marco. It fits him so much better than Romeo. “That’s a nice name.”
The smile reaches his eyes and crinkles the corners. “Thank you, Karina Rossi.”
My brows knit together until I remember my ID was in my purse. He hands it over.
“Maybe Cinderella is more appropriate,” I joke, tucking the clutch into the large tote bag that’s slung over my shoulder.
“I thought the same thing last night when you ran off.”
The soft touch of his fingers trailing my jaw makes my legs weak.
“You’re just as beautiful as you were last night. Juliet, Cinderella, Karina. I don’t care what your name is, as long as—”
I interrupt him with a kiss, dropping my tote on the ground and raising up on my toes to loop my arms around his neck. His body is strong and warm under his racing suit, but all I can do is trace my fingers along the front zipper, frustrated that I can’t get closer to him. Smiling against my lips, Marco wraps an arm around me and backs me gently against a support beam. His lips move easily beneath mine. He’s letting me lead, and I want to. I want to be the one who goes first and takes what she wants.
My kisses are tentative and hesitant initially, but he doesn’t seem to mind. My thoughts stray to the memory of his lips wrapping around my nipples, and I get more aggressive, aching for a repeat. When I gently bite Marco’s lip, he sucks in a breath and pulls away, his eyes holding mine as he takes my arms and raises them above my head. Both of us are breathing hard.
Pinning my wrists to the beam with one hand, he softly, slowly runs the back of his other hand over the sensitive skin from my wrist to my bicep, then down the sides of my ribs and my waist. Then his fingertips trace the dips and lines of my body as if he’s trying to map it beneath my clothes. Goosebumps rise everywhere he touches…my hips, down my thighs, back up to where he draws half-moons beneath my breasts. I wish I could ditch my clothes and feel that caress over my entire naked body.
A deep moan escapes my throat. I need to touch him, too.
Marco steps into me before I get the chance and grinds his lips into mine. The kiss is heady and primal, so full of passion that the sensation rushes straight to my head and consumes me. Nothing exists outside of every contact point where our bodies touch. His hips press into me, lightly at first and then with intentional force. Sucking in a breath, I almost lose the kiss, but he takes my chin in his hand and holds me in place, whispering against my mouth. “Just feel me, Karina. Feel how much I can give you.”
I’m not myself around this man. It’s as if every time I see him, I morph into a sexual being that wants to take, take, take and lose herself completely in pleasure. Some people drink to erase their problems, but this? This would be a much better way.
My body moves on its own, my hips pressing against his, seeking more contact. I let out a little groan of frustration.
“Relax, bella. Just feel.”
Grabbing my hips, he positions us so I can feel the hard ridge of his erection through his coveralls as he lightly grinds into me, giving me what I crave. Nothing so perfect has ever existed. It’s exactly what I need. Pleasure sparks through me but it’s not enough. I need more.
So much more.
Pleasure burns between my legs, hot and demanding. Our tongues meet as he draws me in completely. There’s no space left between us. His big body shields me, protects me, claims me as he gently offers his body for my pleasure.
A flicker of panic unfurls in my chest. This is all so much. It’s overwhelming and wonderful, but I’m scared.
“Marco,” I pant and twist my head away. “Wait.”
I don’t know why I feel so panicked all of a sudden. I don’t want to stop, but something ticks in my brain. Intuition maybe, I don’t know. He pulls back, cupping my face in his hands.
“What is it?”
I shake my head. The stranger I met in the stands earlier was a reminder that someone is always watching me. We could be under surveillance right now. There are thousands of people here tonight—it would be complete foolishness to assume that no one spotted me with Marco.
“I can’t do this,” I say. “Not here, not now.”
One corner of his lips turns up. “Bella, when I fuck you, it sure as hell won’t be under the stands at a racetrack.”
My cheeks flame hot. Holy. Crap.
Marco holds my gaze. “How can I learn your body in a place like this? How can I cover every inch of your bare skin with my lips when I can’t even lay you down properly? I’m going to spread you out on satin sheets where I can worship you the way you deserve.”
It’s not quite an Austen-era love poem, but who the hell cares? I’ll take it.
My breath comes out in a strangled gasp. “That sounds…you know…wow.”
“I mean it, Karina. You’re a treasure. Why do you think I only came in second?” He brushes a kiss across my lips. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“You’re lying,” I say, but I hope he’s not.
He grins playfully. “Give me another kiss for making me lose the race.”
“Just one?”
He dips his head. “One for now, and more later when we’re completely alone.”
My legs go weak at the suggestion. Why can’t we run away right now and grab aloneness with both hands? We could disappear, stay gone long enough that my uncle will give up looking for me. I could just disappear for good, abandon my nuptials, reinvent myself with this man.
Silly, so silly. Of course that will never happen. Lifting on my toes again, I kiss him gently and then reluctantly pull away.
An ache spreads inside my chest, sharp as a knife. We aren’t even anything at all, Marco and I, yet I already miss what we could have been.
“Say you want to see me again,” he implores.
