Page 41 of Forbidden War (Forbidden 2)
KARINA
“Karina.”
Opening my eyes, I find Marco crouching on the floor next to the bed, watching me.
“Mmm,” I moan, only half awake.
I reach for him. The bandage is gone from his head now and his hair is still damp. His skin is warm and solid and deliciously stubbled as I trace my fingers along the curve of his jaw.
“How was the shower?” I murmur.
“I feel a lot better. Maybe not as well as if you’d joined me, though,” he teases.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“I tried. You were out cold. Thought I’d let you rest and recharge.”
“I don’t even remember falling asleep,” I admit.
He climbs into bed next to me, looking delicious in nothing but a pair of black boxers, and I roll onto my other side to face him. Remarkably, he appears fine. Almost like nothing happened. But that’s only what’s visible on the outside. Is he devastated about Jessica? Does he blame himself for her being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Does he feel guilty that she might have taken a bullet that was intended for him?
There’s definitely something going on in his mind. Something different about his expression. His eyes skitter away from mine, like he’s upset or a little ashamed. Has something else happened?
“Karina, I just wanted to say I—” He pauses as if he’s struggling for the right words. “I wanted to thank you. For being here with me and looking out for me and…for everything.”
The hard edge I’ve become used to hearing in his voice lately is gone. I notice it immediately. I’ve become so aware and resentful of the bitterness whenever he speaks to me that finding it gone is like a beam of warm sunlight on my face. I can’t help but feel it.
“You’re welcome, but of course I’d look out for you. You’re my husband.”
He trails his fingers over my shoulder, down my arm and back up again.
“I haven’t been acting like much of a husband lately. You didn’t have to rush to the hospital and then babysit me afterward. You could have easily left me to fend for myself.”
“Marco, I would never do that.”
“I know, because you’re a good person.”
Marco slides my hair away from my neck and kisses behind my ear. A hard shiver goes through me. He kisses down my neck, over my collarbone, up to my lips. All my fear and worry and relief well up in me, fueling my passion, and soon I’m climbing on top of him, pulling my shirt off, dropping my lips back to his as his warm palms cup my breasts. He repositions a little and aligns his body to mine. His hot erection presses hard against my sleep shorts.
I pull back, slightly out of breath. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
“For what?”
Moving my hips, I grind myself carefully against his cock.
He groans. “Hell, yes.”
It’s all the confirmation I need. I lean over him, letting him suck my nipples into his hungry mouth one at a time as he tugs off his own shorts and then helps me out of mine. My heart is pounding. My body is on fire for him. Our mouths meet again, roughly, and his hand slides between my legs. Moaning my affirmation, I let him palm my pussy and knead me gently, and when he slips a finger inside me I grind against it, needing more.
“I need you,” I whimper.
But instead of giving me what I want, he stays the course, gently working his finger, adding another, pumping and stroking, until I’m about to lose my mind. He moves his thumb over my clit and traces circles around it, and as the pleasure swirls deeper, the tension in my center even tighter, I break the kiss to pant in his ear. I know I can’t hold out much longer.
“You like that?” he asks.
“Yes,” I breathe between moans. “Yes.”
A hum of satisfaction works from his throat. Pressing kisses along my neck and chest, he fingers me faster as I ride his hand.
“Oh God,” I gasp. “I can’t—Marco, I can’t—”
But the more I squirm, the more insistent his touch becomes. The orgasm builds higher and higher, and I give up, giving in to his touch, seeking more, needing more.
“I’m going to come,” I cry out desperately.
“Get over here,” he commands, pulling me higher up his body, positioning my pussy right over his mouth.
I’m too turned on to feel self-conscious, and I grab the headboard for support as his tongue plunges into me, replacing his fingers.
“Oh my God,” are the only words I can manage. “Oh my God, oh my God.”
He’s fucking me with his tongue, licking, sucking, stabbing into me. All I feel now is hot, liquid pleasure pulsing through my entire body. I’m squeezing the headboard as hard as I can to keep from flying away. I’ve never felt anything like this before. I moan louder as I ride his face, relishing the feel of his hands squeezing my ass, spreading my cheeks apart as he urges me back and forth over his mouth, the glide of his tongue, the vibrations of his moans against my clit.
“I’m coming,” I pant. “Marco, Marco, Marco.”
“Fuck,” he growls, tossing me onto my back.
He slams his cock straight into me just as the orgasm hits me full force, thrusting hard, both of us moaning and clinging to the other as we feel the power of our connection swell and contract. I feel the shockwaves start to ebb right as Marco begins to tense up, and then he’s coming inside me, kissing me deep as he spills his seed.
“Karina,” he groans, somehow still rock hard, still pumping. “Karina, yes, amore mio.”
My love. He just called me his love.
Suddenly I feel like I’m about to climax again, right on the tail of the first one. How is this possible? As surprised moans spill out of me, Marco thumbs my clit again, spurring me on. The pleasure crests and crests and then crashes, the waves of ecstasy ramping up even higher. I’m shattering. It’s like there is an entire ocean, a beautiful storm, releasing itself inside me.
“Marco!”
