Metà (COMPLETED)

32. Tigrotta

*Sexy Tunes Maybe... ;)*
***
Marco flipped us over so that I was now straddling him. He gripped the back of my neck, deepening the heated interaction.

I pulled back for air and rested my forehead against his. My skin tingled and the hairs stood as the pads of his fingers slid beneath my shirt. I reciprocated the action, grazing my fingers up and down his back.

We were fighting our desire to go at it—for what? I don't know. There was just something about everyone being within walking distance and a good earshot away that just didn't seem right.

But at the same time...

I released a whimper when Marcos large hands gripped my barely covered ass— the shorts, having already been tight, now riding up my thighs—and he released a groan.

He nudged my head back and snuck a peck, to which I smiled and pulled him in for another kiss. It seemed that this was the last straw because suddenly Marco was lifting my shirt over my head.

I felt my chest heaving irrationally, the sudden realization that I was slowly revealing all of me to him sending me into a silent panic mode.

"Relax, tesoro," he whispered, focused on the crook of my neck. I let a shaky hand rest on his back, analyzing the fading scars from his past torture. He trailed down to my nipples, rolling one between his fingers and the other tucked in the warmth of his mouth. He got off the bed with my legs wrapped around his waist and gently set me down.

His hand cupped my face and he kissed me, playing with the strings on my shorts.

"What's wrong," he whispered against my lips.

"What," I asked, my voice shaky.

"You're trembling."

I gulped and looked down at his sun kissed abs, teasing the happy trail peaking from the top of his sweats with a finger.

My mouth salivated at the thought of what lay beneath.

"Zhara?"

I kissed his pecks, making my way down and looking up at him as I bit the strings of his sweats and pulled. He grabbed my chin and caressed it, his eyes darkening seeing me on my knees.

Before I could pull them down, he grabbed my hand and brought me to my feet.

"If we start, I won't stop," he said, his voice deep.

"Then don't," I said, biting my lip. I was fighting between my nervousness and the need to have him.

"I don't plan to... but there's no condoms."

Voice 1: Shit.
Voice 2: whew!

"Next time," I said, slightly relieved. He looked thoughtful for a moment, his hands running over the curve of my ass.

"Wait here."

He left the room for what felt like forever. I glimpsed at myself in the mirror, turning side to side. I pulled the waist of my shorts down and looked at what was making me fear what was about to happen.

My pale stretch marks seemed to taunt me, leaving a snarling path down to my upper thigh. I took a deep breath and released just as Marco walked in.

He turned and held up two condoms.

"Where'd you get those?" Then it dawned on me.

"Oh. Stephan," I mumbled.

"Cane, actually. Stephan's in the middle of a dry spell."