The Marriage Trap

Page 26

Her heart pounded so hard her blood strangled, then pumped madly in an effort to keep up with her hormones. “Huh?”
“Hmm, I should have done this a while ago. Who would’ve thought you’d ever be speechless?” He snagged her hand and pulled her off the bed.
Dumbstruck by the sexual electricity from the touch of his skin on hers, she allowed herself to be led so she stood before him.
“Let me be clear, la mia tigrotta. I’m taking you to bed. I’m going to strip off your clothes, bury myself deep inside you, and make you come so many times the only word from your lips will be my name, begging me to do it all over again.” He sank his fingers into her hair and tugged. Then he loomed over her, his eyes hotly promising her every decadent, lustful pleasure she could take. “Capisce?”
“I, I don’t think, I—”
His mouth stamped over hers.
Her mind may have needed a moment to recover, but her body bloomed and opened under his command. She took every silky stroke of his tongue and demanded more as she dug her nails into his shoulders and hung on. In minutes, her clothes were stripped off.
The sensual taste and smell of him flooded her nostrils. Already, her body grew wet and fiery hot, aching for him to fill her. He growled low in his throat and fit himself quickly with a condom. This time he urged her onto her hands and knees, dragged her thighs apart, and plunged.
She cried out at the delicious sensation of tightness and bucked upward for more. The deep penetration left her nowhere to hide. Maggie panted as she tried to keep something back for herself, but as if he sensed her withdrawal, he reached under and rolled the tips of her nipples between his fingers, slowing his pace. Each deliberate, easy thrust pushed her closer to the edge but didn’t give her enough to fly over. She moaned and tried to speed him up.
His warm breath rushed over her ear. “Want something?”
She shivered. “I hate you.”
He laughed low. “I love you in this position. You have the most beautiful ass.”
He circled his hips and did something that should be illegal. “Michael, please.”
“Stay.”
She tried to process his words but her body ached and every inch throbbed. “What?”
He nibbled on her ear and caressed her breasts. “Stay with me to the end of the week, mia amore. Promise me.”
Closer and closer. The orgasm was just out of reach, and she craved him like before, wanted him to pound inside of her and claim her. “Yes. I’ll stay.”
He murmured in satisfaction, grasped her hips, and gave her everything. The climax came hard and fast, and she shook in the aftermath. He shouted her name and followed, and they sank onto the pillow, Michael holding her close as if he would never let her go.
• • •
Michael stroked her naked back as she stretched into the caress. A deep satisfaction coursed through every cell in his body and reminded him once again that Maggie Ryan finally belonged to him.
Her open, carnal response blew away any other encounter he’d ever had. The warning deep within shimmered inside the locked box, but he refused to spoil the moment by worrying. Somehow, they’d work things out. After the lure of the hunt with a beautiful woman ended in bed, Michael always experienced satisfaction. What blew his mind at the moment was the fierce sense of completion that flowed through his veins. As if he had finally met his other half.
Dios, he must be loco.
Leave it to him to pick a woman who’d make his life a mess. The inner voice whispered the truth in mocking format. She’d also bring a sense of joy and zest and challenge he craved, no matter how hard he fought to settle with an easier woman. It was as if his passion on the race circuit translated to the women he longed for. Wild, untamed, contradictory, and stubborn. He remembered the adrenaline rush of handling such power, riding it around the curves and keeping the vehicle barely under control. Maggie reminded him of the same thrill. She courted the full range of his emotions that were normally locked up and reserved in a civilized manner. His past had finally caught up with him.
And he was happy.
Suddenly, Maggie shot up out of bed. Hair messily falling over one eye, bare-breasted, she gazed in horror at the closed door. “Oh, my God, your mother! Carina! I was loud, I forgot they were in the house.”
He chuckled and pulled her back into his arms. “Before I came to your room, Mama said she needed to go into town for some sort of surprise. She took Carina with her, so I knew we’d have a few hours alone.”
She let out a relieved breath. “So you had this planned all along.” She gave him a mock glare. “I figured you’d come to yell at me for getting involved with your business.”
“I planned on yelling afterward.”
Her hand snaked out and gave his penis a squeeze. He laughed and pinned her to the mattress with his thigh. On cue, he grew hard and nudged insistently against her moist center. With a mischievous glint, her hand explored, caressing the tip and sliding up and down his shaft. The woman had dangerous hands and may eventually kill him. Still, he’d die a happy man.
“What were you saying?” she purred, alternating between teasing flicks and hard pumping motions.
Michael gritted his teeth.
“Don’t play games you can’t win, la mia tigrotta,” he growled. Then took her lips in a hard, deep kiss. Her musky essence rose to his nostrils as the sweet taste of her flooded his senses.
“I’ll win this round, Count,” she whispered back. Her tongue ran over his bottom lip and she bit down in a sharp nip. The tiny pain shot straight to his cock and his skin stretched to accommodate.
“I’d show you who’s boss right now but I don’t have another condom handy.”
She guided him one tempting inch.
He paused at her entrance. His head spun like a man with his first woman.
“I’m on the pill, and I’m safe.” Her eyes glittered with a mad need that called to him.
With one push, he sank inside her.
They lay side by side, faces close, and he reveled in the intimacy of watching every expression as he moved inside of her. Her breasts filled his hand, and the berry red of her nipples tempted him to take them in his mouth and suck hard. The scent of sandalwood overtook him, and she met each thrust with an open abandon that fired his blood. He kept the pace slow and easy, not wanting to rush the extreme pleasure of her body flowering open beside him. Her channel squeezed and she gasped as she neared the pinnacle. He clawed for control and tipped his hips to hit the sweet spot, then watched her fall apart.
He swallowed his name from her lips and let himself join her. Then he realized he had called her an endearment he’d never uttered before. A term he saved for the woman who would become his wife. One he’d never used before, even at the height of orgasm.
Mia amore.
My love.
Michael swallowed past the sudden tightness of his throat and held her close.
• • •
“We have to get dressed.”
“Hm.” Michael ran a hand over her gorgeous curves, enjoying the feel of sleek muscles and silky skin. “In a minute.”
“Your mom should be home with Carina. Venezia wants to go over bridesmaid accessories tonight. And I have to help cook dinner again, damn it.”
His body shook with contained laughter, and she gave him a weak punch. “Sorry, cara, this whole week was not what either of us expected.”
Her voice was whisper soft. “No. It wasn’t.” A pause. “Michael, what happened with your sisters?”
He turned over to face her, then smoothed cinnamon strands back from her face. “You were right. About everything.” Regret loomed but he pushed past, knowing he could only make it right for the future. “I got lost in my role and made a lot of mistakes. After you left, I spoke with my sisters and apologized. I also showed them your photo of Mama and they loved it. We’re launching a new campaign based on your photograph.”
Her brow shot up. “Are you kidding? That’s wonderful.”
Michael smiled, tracing the lush outline of her mouth. He cursed her parents, who didn’t see the treasure she was and caused her to doubt her ability to love. He realized he’d reached a turning point and needed to force them both to face the truth. Their marriage ruse had veered into something more, and he believed it was too precious to throw away.
Michael grasped her chin and gently forced her to face him. “Listen to me, Maggie. This is important. In a few days, you saw things I’d never even realized. How I treated my sisters and what they really needed from me. You made four little boys feel loved and taken care of, even though it was the first time they ever met you. You respected my mother and made food in her kitchen, which is the most important thing you can ever give her. You gave my little sister a reason to believe in herself again, and believe she is beautiful. You are an amazing woman, Maggie Ryan.” He gazed deep into her eyes and told the truth. “Stay with me.”
His heart pounded as he waited. She closed her eyes, as if searching for her own answers, then opened her mouth to respond.
“Michael! Are you in there? Come quick; Mama’s sick!”
The words she was about to utter died a quick death, and Michael wondered if he’d always regret that moment of interruption. They jumped out of bed, pulled clothes on, and made their way downstairs. Carina stood outside his mother’s door. “Where is she?” he asked calmly, trying to mask his worry.
She pressed a hand to her lips and choked out the words. “Dr. Restevo is with her. We went into town and everything was fine, and then she said she felt weak and dizzy. I told her to rest because the sun was hot today, but she insisted I get the doctor.” Tears sprung to her eyes. “Maybe I should have taken her to the hospital? I didn’t know what to do, Michael.”
“Shush, you did everything right.” He gathered her in his arms for a quick hug. “Let’s wait for a few minutes and see what the doctor says. Perhaps it is nothing. Va bene?”
Carina nodded. When he released her, he noticed Maggie took her hand as if it was the most natural gesture in the world. Low murmurings drifted through the closed door, and he tamped down his urge to pace. Finally, Dr. Restevo strolled through.
“Buon giorno, Doctor. How is Mama?” Michael asked.
An odd expression crossed the older man’s face. Dressed casually in khakis, a white T-shirt, and sneakers, Michael guessed he’d been caught off guard by Carina’s call. His black bag fit the standard cliché as his family still believed in home care and door-to-door visits. He peered over his spectacles, his brown eyes concerned.
“Um, a hospital is not necessary at the moment.”
Michael waited for more, but the doctor remained silent, shifting from foot to foot. He averted his gaze. Michael curbed his impatience but Carina burst out in front of them. “What’s wrong with her? Did she have a heart attack? Why aren’t you telling us something—is it very bad?”
The doctor ran a hand past his receding hairline and coughed. “No heart attack. She needs to rest; that’s it.”
“Was it the heat? Her medication? Anything we need to do?” Michael asked.