‘More?’ he asked as she writhed beneath him.
He turned her on her side the way she liked, and whispered, ‘You’re going to bend your knees while I sink slowly into you, and I’m going to touch you at the same time.’
His hand had barely found its destination before she greedily claimed her next release.
‘I think you like that,’ he murmured. Resting his chin on her back, he waited as she dragged in some noisy breaths.
‘Definitely,’ she confirmed.
‘Are you ready for more?’
Marco only had to rest his hand in the small of her back for her to lift her buttocks so he could cup them and slowly take her again. Moving to a steady and dependable beat, he worked her with his hand at the same time, steering her unerringly into her fiercest climax yet.
* * *
Cassandra was sleeping so heavily he decided to make her breakfast in bed. She should rest—wasn’t he always telling her that? He should tell himself that—he’d kept her up half the night. He couldn’t get enough of her. He’d never felt like this before—had never made love to a woman all night and woken her up in the morning by making love to her. Hell, he’d never cooked a woman breakfast before—not since he had tried to coax his mother to eat in the latter stages of her alcoholism, a thought that shattered his current idyll.
The priest who had buried his mother had seen to it that he had a roof over his head and had gone to school with enough food in his belly to keep him going for the day. The orphanage had been a chilling experience, but he’d survived that too. There was nothing in this world he couldn’t overcome—with the exception of his feelings for Cassandra.
But he couldn’t offer her anything more than this, he mused as he backed his way into the bedroom. He’d been dead inside for far too long to make any form of commitment, and he would never lead Cassandra on.
She woke slowly and smiled with her face still pressed against the pillow as he carried her breakfast tray into the room.
‘You made me breakfast!’ she exclaimed with pleasure.
Pressing his lips down, he shrugged. ‘It’s in my best interests to keep your strength up.’
‘Stop acting tough, Marco. Even if you’re joking, I know you’re kinder than you make out. You’ve got a whole bank of feelings inside you, but you’re like a miser afraid to dip into them.’
‘Afraid?’ he queried, already tensing in preparation for retreating into himself as he put the tray down.
‘I know. You’re not afraid of anything...except what’s inside you,’ she said, losing her smile. ‘And we all have demons in the past to fight.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
She stared at him for a moment, and then she held out her hand. ‘Come here...’
‘I have to go to work...’
‘Please,’ she insisted. ‘Give me your hand.’
He frowned, but he did as she asked.
Taking it, she guided it beneath the bedclothes. ‘Can you feel him? Your son is saying hello.’
‘My—’ He recoiled, but she caught hold of his hand, and with more strength than he had guessed she possessed she brought his hand back again and made him rest it on her swollen belly.
‘Don’t be frightened,’ she whispered. ‘We’re both new at this. Babies don’t come with a manual, and I don’t want you to miss out on a single thing.’
He’d weakened once before and kissed her belly. He had survived that. The miracle of life was something even he couldn’t resist. He calmed his breathing and stilled, and then he felt it...he felt the little pulse of life, trying to kick his hand away.
‘Dio! I can feel him.’ His eyes were full of wonder as he turned to look at her. ‘That’s your baby!’
Cassandra looked at him steadily for a good few moments and then she said, ‘That’s our child.’
* * *
There was so much she wanted to say to Marco. She wanted to reach out to him in a way that would break through all his issues, but before she could do that he had to trust her...trust her enough to tell her what had made him this way.
‘Marco?’
He was heading at speed for the door, and looked stricken. Yet she knew he’d had that same moment of wonder and bliss that she had experienced when she had felt their child kicking her for the first time. What was it about this baby that frightened Marco? What had rocked the foundations of his world? If his only concern was that her baby was his, he could resolve that with a test. She suspected it was something more than that—something so devastating that it had shaped Marco’s life. She wanted to know what that was, so she could help him.