I did as he demanded. I took his semi-hard dick out of his pants, doubled over and sucked it into my mouth. I licked and jerked and spat and slurped. I worshipped him, and when he held my head down, my throat contracted around him, and his hiss and moan made me feel so goddamn adored.

He fucked my mouth then came with a shudder and grunt, and when he spurt across my tongue, I swallowed his salty offering eagerly.

I was desperate to please him.

Things were changing. I could feel it.

So, when I woke the next morning, alone but content, I happily jumped out of bed. I brushed my teeth then slid into the shower, humming to a song I’d forgotten the words to. I dressed quickly, slipping on a pair of cream-colored satin panties and a matching bra before working the distressed jeans over my legs and buttoning up the sheer white blouse. I tied my hair into a high ponytail, applied ChapStick to my kiss swollen lips then exited the bathroom with a small smile that had a shorter lifespan than a fly.

All of the drawers were open. All of them lay empty. And movement in the hall garnered my attention. Marco was carrying two suitcases down the stairs and I fell into a full-fledged panic.

What the fuck?

My throat tightened and my knees shook. I lifted a hand to the wall and spoke through a croak, “What is this?”

Everything was going so well. I didn’t understand.

Careful not to fall head first down the stairs, I called after Marco, “What is this? Where am I going?”

No.

He’s finally doing it. You goddamn fool. A few kisses and you fell for it.

No, no, no.

He played you, and you fell for him.

Shit. It was happening. He was finally getting rid of me.

My eyes widened in fear. “What did I do?” But Marco just kept walking. “Talk to me. What did I do?” I watched him take the suitcases down to the foyer and, without stopping, he moved to walk them right out of the front door. My heart was in my throat and I was on the verge of tears when I cried out a rattled, “Marco, please. What did I do?”

Without a second thought, I rushed down what was left of the stairs and followed him out. And when I saw where Marco was taking my suitcases, barefoot, I skidded to a halt.

“What’s all the commotion?” Ettore stood on the path, peering down at me with a knowing look. A single brow rose when he uttered with feigned disinterest, “I thought you wanted to come home.”

Oh my God.

My heartbeat thumped in my chest.

Oh my God.