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“Marcello…” she breathed his name, her voice trembling as he brushed delicate kisses along her jaw, trailing slowly down to her throat.

A shiver ran through her when his free hand slid beneath her dress, fingers caressing the softness of her skin.

“Hm,” he hummed against her, his lips grazing her neck. His mouth opened against her skin, leaving hot, lingering kisses that made her tremble. He pushed back her hair, lips finding the mark he’d claimed, pressing into it until goosebumps broke across her flesh.

Azzurra’s breaths grew uneven as he traveled lower, his lips mapping a slow, burning trail down her belly over the fabric of her dress.

When he finally released her wrists, his palms slid to her waist, giving her a gentle squeeze. The hem of her dress rose higher as he pressed forward, his hands gripping her thighs and parting them. Her gasp filled the room as instinct had her cover herself, but he caught her wrists, his voice a low growl.

“Don’t hide from me.”

His gaze locked on the thin fabric shielding her, hunger flickering as he stroked her through the panties with the slow press of his thumb. The motion sent her body jolting, a whimper escaping her lips.

Positioning himself between her legs, Marcello brushed the fabric aside, his heated breath ghosting over her most vulnerable spot.

“Marcello, we should stop” Her words broke off in a gasp as he latched his mouth onto her, her head falling back against the pillow.

Her hands dove to his hair, fingers tangling desperately in his dark strands as if she could force him to stop but he didn’t yield.

“I’ve been starving for this taste,” he groaned against her, making her shudder all the more.

Her thighs quivered as she tried to pull back, the pleasure already overwhelming, but his grip tightened. With a rough yank, he dragged her closer until she cried out, the sound swallowed by his unrelenting pace.

Her whimpers rose with every flick of his tongue, sinful noises spilling into the room. She clutched a pillow with one hand, knuckles whitening, while the other remained tangled in his hair as though it were the only thing tethering her to reality.

“M–Marcello… I… I’m” She couldn’t finish, the words dissolving into a strangled cry as ecstasy crashed through her. Her back arched, body trembling as the wave pulled her under, leaving her boneless against the bed.

Breathless, she blinked through the haze to find him still seated between her thighs, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth with a satisfied smirk. His molten gaze lingered on her flushed body, making her squirm with embarrassment as she quickly adjusted her clothes and sat upright.

Azzurra lowered her head, letting her hair curtain her face. But Marcello was never one to allow her to hide. In one swift move, he pulled her into his lap, his hand tucking her hair back behind her ears so he could study her face fully.

The heat in his stare deepened when she shifted on his thighs, her body going rigid the moment she felt the hard press beneath her. Panic shot through her, and before he could react, she scrambled out of his hold, darting toward the door.

His eyes burned with a silent warning, a promise that he wasn’t finished with her yet. But she was far too flustered, her skin hot, her heart racing uncontrollably.

“L–Let’s… let’s have dinner together. At the gazebo,” she blurted.

Marcello rose to his feet, but she was already bolting down the hall, as though chased by flames.

In her chambers, she stumbled straight into the bathroom, twisting the shower on cold. She pressed her palms against the tiles, chest heaving, the phantom memory of his tongue still making her shiver.

She bit her lip, sliding her thighs together as her blush deepened. She’d always believed intimacy was overrated, but Marcello made her question everything. Every kiss, every touch from him lit her ablaze, and what he’d just done… she couldn’t deny how much she loved it even if she’d never admit it to him.

But then came the memory of how hard he’d felt beneath her when she’d sat on his lap. A lump lodged in her throat. How could something that size possibly fit inside her? She was so small… it seemed impossible. The thought alone had her stomach twisting with both anticipation and dread.

He wanted her of that she had no doubt. He’d confessed it, claimed her, marked her. The only step left was the final act of mating. Yet the closer it loomed, the more her nerves unraveled.

Would it hurt? What if she wasn’t enough for him? She had no experience, no knowledge of what to do, and though Marcello never flaunted a history with women, she couldn’t help but wonder how she would compare.

Shaking off the doubts, Azzurra forced herself to focus. Dinner. She’d distract them both with dinner.

She dressed quickly and slipped into the kitchen, insisting on cooking. The staff stared in shock, begging her to let them handle it, but she only asked for ingredients and guidance. Under the chef’s instruction, she prepared Marcello’s favorite steak.

The staff whispered amongst themselves, their eyes drifting to her scar and then widening when they noticed the mark on her neck. Questions lingered in their stares, but none dared ask.

She asked Benedetto to set a table in the gazebo and returned to her room. After a quick wash, she changed into a red dress that skimmed her thighs, its fabric clinging to her waist while flaring at her hips. Her hair fell freely in glossy waves, brushing the hem of her dress.

For a moment, she debated covering her scar, but in the end, left it bare. A touch of mascara, a dab of lip tint, and she was ready.

When she stepped out, Marcello and Cesario were already waiting. Both of them froze as she approached, eyes widening, mouths parting slightly. Their stunned gazes were enough to make her fight back a smile.