Chapter 572: I’m Here Now

Marco’s eyes moved over her slowly, drinking in the curve of her waist, the spread of her thighs, the perfection of her breasts. "I’m here now, sugar...Open wide for Daddy."

Valentina’s smile deepened. She drew her legs apart. "Come to Mummy."

"Fuck yes."

In the blink of an eye, Marco was over her, kissing her body from her toes, pausing over her sex and working his way up.

"Delicious," Marco said, holding her gaze.

Valentina’s breath caught. There were many things about her husband that should have been illegal. His body, for one. His mouth, definitely. The way he looked at her. "Fuck me," she whispered.

He needed no further prompting. Marco moved over her, strong hands settling at her hips, and entered her with a thrust. She was right. She had been wet and dripping. Open for him. Wanting him. Waiting for him.

"Oooh," Val gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders. "Yes, love. Oh, I like that dick."

When she said things like that, he lost his senses. The way she said them. As if he was everything she wanted in that moment, everything she needed, everything her body had been aching for.

She made him feel like more.

Wanted.

Adored.

Loved.

For a man raised around violence, Valentina’s desire still felt like a miracle. A reckless, soft, filthy miracle with her legs around his waist and her mouth saying things that could send him straight to hell.

His hands caressed her waist, her thighs, her breasts. Val never minded the size of him. She never had. Marco was all muscle everywhere, carved in a way that made clothing seem like a disservice. And she took him deliciously, hips lifting to meet him, her body adjusting to his.

"Baby," she cried, voice trembling. "More. I’m cumming."

Marco growled against her throat. Her legs rose higher, thighs wide, welcoming him deeper. She bit down on her lip, eyes squeezed shut, body arching as he drove into her harder. The bed creaked beneath them, the mattress rising and dipping.

Her cries grew louder. Her praises came quicker, dirtier. She told him how good he felt, how much she loved his dick, how much she had missed him, and Marco, poor fool that he was, had no defence left. She came beautifully beneath him. Her body tightened around him, her face soft and undone with pleasure.

"Oh my fuck," he growled. His rhythm broke into something rougher. He braced himself above her, muscles locking, jaw clenched, the sounds leaving him low and raw. His balls slapped against her ass as he emptied himself inside her, every part of him going tight with release.

Valentina smiled up at him. "I missed you."

"I can see that." He smiled.

"Why were you late?" Val demanded. "And you didn’t call?"

"I’m sorry," he said. "It is crazy at work nowadays."

"Hmmm. I could come by one of these days and help you destress," she murmured.

"I’d like that. Very much."

she brushed her fingers over his chest and asked, "Dinner?"

"Please." Marco rolled off her and onto his back with a groan. "I barely had a thing all day."

"You should have eaten."

"I was working." He gave her a tired look. "Just something simple. No stress."

"I have your dinner in the microwave."

She got to her feet and reached for a loose robe. Val tied the robe around her waist. The fabric slipped off one shoulder, and for a moment his body considered ignoring hunger and making another more interesting decision. Val glanced back. "Be right back."

He smiled faintly. "Thank you, sugar."

She left the room. Marco exhaled and stared up at the ceiling. His body felt heavy in the best way.

He reached towards the bedside lamp to turn it on, but his hand found her phone instead. The phone lay beside the lamp, face down. He stared at it for a long second, already hating himself.

Do not.

A good husband did not pick up his wife’s phone behind her back. A secure husband did not act like a jealous bastard searching for messages from another man.

He picked it up. His thumb found the power button. The screen lit. He swiped. The lock code came up. Marco entered the usual digits.

Denied.

Then he tried again. Perhaps the sex had ruined his hand-eye coordination. A valid medical theory, frankly, considering Valentina’s methods.

Denied.

She had changed her phone code.

Why?

Why would she?

It was not as if he had a habit of checking her phone. He had never needed to. Her phone had always been just another thing. He picked it up sometimes to charge it for her because Valentina never charged anything.

Except now, she had been doing it herself. The realisation moved through him slowly. Since he returned from Italy.

She had been charging her phone herself since he came back. Marco sat up. His heart had begun to beat differently. He looked towards the open door.

The more his mind spiralled, the more he chastised himself.

Stop it.

He felt like a husband suspicious his wife was cheating on him, and the thought disgusted him. He knew Valentina.

But this was not about another man in her bed. He placed her phone back exactly where he had found it, screen down beside the lamp.

Then he reached for his own phone from the jeans he had discarded when he first came in. There were ways to find the truth.

He did not need to break into her phone. He just needed enough information to put his mind at rest once and for all. He rose from the bed, headed to the closet, picked up a pair of loose shorts and slipped them on. Marco sat on the bed with his own phone in his hands when Valentina walked back into the room with a tray of food.

The food smelled good.

"Marco," she said, noticing the phone immediately. "You know the rules. No phones unless it is an emergency."

She placed the tray on the bed beside him.