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I reach for one, but Marco shakes his head. “Let me,” he whispers.
Silently, I nod.
Marco tucks the towel around me with practiced movements, before taking the other one to my hair. He’s still naked, dripping onto the wood floor of the cabin, and I trace the path of water on his skin as it gleams in the firelight.
I probably shouldn’t look at his cock again.
But when I do, I’m surprised to find it half-hard.
Hechuckles. “You have quite an impact on me, Roisin.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m always like this for you,” he murmurs.
My eyes fly to his, and I see absolutely no signs of a lie there.
Eventually he gets himself a towel, wrapping all that luscious skin away. Marco sighs, glancing over me like he’s looking for something.
“Are you dry enough?” he asks, his voice concerned. “I could get another towel…”
“I’m fine. Tired,” I whisper.
He nods. I squeak as he leans in and literally whisks me off my feet, then laugh as he tucks me into the bed. I wiggle. “Wet towel and all?”
“Take them off,” he rumbles.
His eyes go dark as I take off the towel and hand it to him, clutching the sheets to my chest like I’m some kind of blushing virgin.
Marco disappears putting the towels away, then slides into the bed with me. I sigh as he pulls me close, an arm tugging me against his middle.
“You’re like a damn furnace,” I murmur as he warms my back.
“It works, I guess, since you’re like an icicle half the time.”
I don’t have a response to that.
We lay quietly, listening to the fire as it crackles and pops. I watch the light from the flames dance against the farwall, my mind whirling.
I don’t know what to do with this.
His question feels like it’s hanging over my head. Married? I see the logic, but I’m not sure I want to follow it. My mother, after all, fell for something similar with my father.
Would I just be falling for something with Marco?
Falling, of course, being an objective word. I’ve already fallen, to some extent.
My heart feels like it’s going to explode, and there’s no doubt that I’m in love with Marco De Luca. But I also don’t want to just be another tool, another thing that people use or keep in order to further their own goals.
He said it was for my protection though…
“Roisin?” Marco murmurs.
The sleepy sound of his voice cuts right through me, and I feel like I’m aching to tell him how I feel.
“Yes?” I murmur. I can’t turn around and look at him. If I do, I’m going to melt.
“We need to get married,” he whispers.