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“Those are bold words,” she teased with a mischievous grin, closing the gap between them.

“I don’t scare easy, tigress,” he drawled, tilting his head with a lazy smirk.

Azzurra invaded his space, leaving barely an inch between their bodies.

“Arrogant,” she murmured under her breath.

“Not arrogance confidence, my wife.” He usually excelled at keeping his composure, but the grin tugging at his lips betrayed him.

Her delicate hands brushed over his shoulder, sending sparks racing through his body and testing the limits of his restraint. She trailed her fingers down to his biceps, then returned them to his chest, letting them rest there.

Azzurra caught the way his jaw flexed, the thick vein throbbing in his neck, his fists curling tight at his sides. He was holding himself back from touching her, and the effort only spurred her on.

She leaned closer, slow and deliberate. Her breath fanned over his bare chest where his shirt hung open at the top, sleeves rolled up, hair tousled in a rugged mess. He looked devastating veins pronounced, heat radiating off him.

Hot.

Her lips hovered, then pressed a soft kiss to his sternum.

The sharp breath he sucked in pulled a smile to her lips. She adored the effect she had on him one chaste kiss and already he was fighting the urge to lose control.

Her hands drifted lower, skimming the ridges of his abs, tracing the taut lines beneath his shirt. Solid muscle met her touch everywhere she explored, like sculpted stone. A need rose in her to feel his skin directly. Before she could second-guess herself, her fingers began working at his buttons.

Marcello froze, surprise flickering in his amber gaze as he watched her fumble at his shirt.

He couldn’t stop staring at her fingers. Those same fingers Mattia had once broken when she dared to defend a maid. And he the man standing here now had been the one to cast her into a storm and leave scars beneath her collarbone. His gaze snagged on one of them, raw guilt stirring.

“I don’t deserve you,” he rasped suddenly.

She blinked, startled, lifting her eyes to his.

“I am a hypocrite,” he whispered, golden eyes locking with hers.

Her brows knitted, confusion flashing across her face.

“No, you’re not,” she countered softly.

“I gave you so much pain,” he breathed, his thumb ghosting over the scar on her collarbone, the mark of his own violence.

Azzurra didn’t want him drowning in those memories.

“It’s behind us now,” she whispered hoarsely. Then she fisted his collar, pulling him down to her, pressing her lips to his.

Her kiss was feather-light, brushing his mouth, grazing his cheek before she drew back. He stared at her, dazed.

She didn’t stop there. She slipped the shirt from his shoulders, baring his chest. Her lips wandered lower, kissing across his skin, scattering tender pecks down to his abs.

His breath hitched, sharp and ragged. Her eyes darted down and widened. A hard bulge strained against his pants.

Oh no.

Of course he’d react. She’d been reckless, too bold, teasing him this way. It was a miracle he still hadn’t lost control, though she wasn’t sure how much longer his restraint would hold.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. She straightened quickly, avoiding his gaze, mortified by her own daring. She hadn’t meant for things to go this far. She only wanted to touch, to tease but something had taken over the moment her lips touched his chest.

What have I done?

“You finished?” His deep, accented voice rolled over her, rich and steady, filling the silence.

“Y… yes,” she stammered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, cheeks blazing.

Why was she suddenly acting like a flustered girl?

“My turn,” he growled, stepping forward.

Her head snapped up. “What”

But before she could blink, he pulled her flush against him. One arm coiled around her waist while his other hand slid into her thick hair, tilting her head back as his lips claimed hers.

The abruptness stole her breath. Her hands clutched his biceps for balance. His tongue teased at her lower lip, demanding entry. She resisted, just to rile him.

He smirked against her mouth. Then his hand slid under her shirt, skimming lower until it slipped into her pants. His palm cupped her ass, squeezing roughly.

She jolted into him with a gasp, lips parting in shock exactly the opening he wanted. Marcello’s tongue swept into her mouth, devouring her in a kiss that sent sparks cascading through her body.

Panting, she shoved him back just enough to catch her breath, only for him to capture her lips again.

Step by step, he guided her backward until her calves hit the bed. With a gentle shove, she fell onto the mattress, bouncing slightly as he straddled her hips, peeling off his shirt and tossing it aside. His amber eyes glowed, hunger etched into every line of his face.

“Marcello,” she whispered, propping herself up on her elbows, trying to scoot back.

He leaned in, slamming his palms beside her head, forehead pressing against hers.

“You can’t stop now, tigress,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “It’s my turn.”

His mouth descended again. She clutched his shoulders, but he caught her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand.

“Marcello, w-wait,” she stammered, cheeks flushed scarlet.

“Easy, Azzurra. I’m only just beginning.” He smirked, winking at her, sending her pulse into chaos.

“You tricked me into this,” she accused breathlessly.

“No,” he corrected, grin sharp. “I tempted you. And you couldn’t resist the bait.”