Somebody's Angel (#5 in a Military Romance / BDSM Romance series) (Rescue Me) (4 page)

Smack!

Not expecting the spanking to start so suddenly, her breath hitched in surprise.

Smack!

His hand came down on her other cheek equally as hard, and she squeezed her butt cheeks together. Several more swats rained down on her in quick succession, and she held her breath as the familiar warmth spread over her bottom.

“Open wider for me, pet.”

Oh, no
. She hated when he struck directly on her pussy or clit. Knowing it would only be worse if she didn’t respond quickly, she angled her left leg toward his knee, exposing herself to him fully. He must want to send her straight into subspace.

Swat!

“Ow,
mio Dio
!” His hand struck directly on her clit, and she jerked, trying to avoid the next blow.
Swat!
No such luck. Tears ran down her nose. The release of tension as he continued to spank her left her sobbing; then the familiar euphoria sent her floating.

Bliss.

Whack!

The paddle landed on her left cheek and surprised her, stinging her sore skin and bringing her back to the present with a vengeance. How long had she zoned out?

Whack!

The pain burning in her butt from the impact of the solid wood caused her to clench her cheeks together, making the fire burn even hotter. New tears flowed.

Cool air blew over her burning butt; Marc had finished with the spanking. His breath only caused gooseflesh to break out, increasing her pain. He knew it, too, damn him. She jumped as the cold ointment he applied after spankings made contact with her sore ass, but it soon eased the sting away. His hand stroked her back in a soothing manner as he waited for the ointment to dry. She hiccupped.

“Shhh, pet.” Marc helped her up, and she melted against him as he sat her on his lap and enfolded her in his arms. Her butt stung worse with the friction against his legs, but she needed to be held. He stroked her hair, and she laid her head against his shoulder, accepting his gentle ministrations.

“You’re mine, pet.”

Mine.

“Always, Sir.”

A peaceful calm came over her; her eyes drifted shut, and she relaxed…

“Time to wake up,
amore
.”

Angelina blinked awake and found herself still in Marc’s arms. “I’m sorry, Sir.” She tried to sit upright and felt the sting in her butt. His hand held her tightly in place.

“Talk to me. How are you feeling now?”

“Better. Extremely relaxed.”

“Good girl.”

“Just one problem.”

He grew tense. “What’s that?”

“How am I supposed to sit down through dinner tonight? You really walloped me.”

“Brat. You know you loved every stroke.”

“Yes, Sir. I did. Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

“You’re the one to thank. I can’t imagine what my life would be without you. You have given me something I didn’t even know was missing.”

“What’s that?”

He thought for several moments before shrugging. Would he elaborate or was she digging too deeply? “A need to…be needed, I guess you could say. You need me. I like that.”

Angelina, needy? Hardly. She’d fought too long to gain independence from her big brothers only to let this man steal her heart away. Ready to argue the point, she opened her mouth.

“But it’s mutual, Angelina.” He leaned back and gazed into her eyes. “You also take excellent care of my needs,
cara
. You fill a void in my soul.”

His acknowledgement of her need to nurture, one of her best traits in her opinion, reminded her why this complex, sometimes infuriating man was worth loving. One day she hoped to see beyond the mask he wore to protect himself—or to hide whatever he didn’t want to face.

Marc controlled and kept his emotions hidden most times. So private. Every now and then she’d catch a glimpse of yearning coming from him, a look telling her something remained locked inside. Often, those times came after a restless night with him where he was tormented by something from the past that he never could name upon waking. Maybe someday she’d help him identify and release that pain, just as he’d helped her find release from so many hurts in her life.

Angelina couldn’t understand how he could have grown up male in a big Italian family without feeling he had the world on a platter. She reminded herself that his family was very different from hers, though.

Thoughts of meeting his family tonight sent another flurry of “what ifs” rampaging through her mind. What if she couldn’t impress them and…

“Why did you tense up again just now?”

Shit
. She really could have no secrets from him. He read her body like a book. “I’m sorry, Sir. I let my mind wander where it shouldn’t.”

Marc sighed, stroking her cheek. “
Mio angelo
, please stop worrying. My family will love you.”

“Yes, Sir.” But she still had a niggling feeling of doom. If they didn’t accept her, she could lose Marc. So much was riding on this meeting with his family.

She couldn’t wait for this dreaded dinner to be over.

* * *

“Marco! Marco D’Alessio!”

In the lobby of the condo building that adjoined the resort, Angelina turned. A curvaceous Italian woman approached, long black hair fluttering loose over her shoulders, and her enormous boobs arriving a half-second before the rest of her. Something in the way she devoured Marc with her eyes raised Angelina’s hackles. The woman was drop-dead gorgeous, but her eyes were empty, cold, and calculating when she cast a disdainful glance Angelina’s way.

Marc tensed as well, causing Angelina to shift her focus to him. His nostrils flared as he narrowed his gaze. Angelina curled her fingers around Marc’s elbow before realizing she was being territorial. Not to mention more than a bit insecure.

Oh, as if that’s something new
.

Angelina glanced back at the woman and caught another cold glare aimed at her.

Bitch.

The word popped into Angelina’s head, surprisingly accurate.

“Melissa. How are you?” Marc’s cold response and stiff posture told Angelina all she needed to know. He didn’t like her, whatever their history might have been. Plus, the perfect globes protruding from the woman’s chest had to be silicone.

Okay, now who’s being the bitch?

Angelina plastered a smile on her face and squeezed Marc’s elbow. As if suddenly remembering her presence, he stared down at her but didn’t smile as he made the introductions.

“Angelina Giardano, meet Melissa Russo. She was Gino’s fiancée.”

Gino’s? With the emotion sizzling between these two, something more than an engagement to his dead brother lingered between them. But did she really want to know about the women in Marc’s past?

Yes
.

No!
As long as they remained old flames and in the past tense, she didn’t need to know.

When the woman tried to kiss Marc, he turned his face away, and her red-slathered lips branded his cheek. Angelina released his arm—uncertain whether she was trying to put distance between herself and them or to deck this brazen bitch making a move on her man. But Marc wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her closer.

Mine.

Angelina relaxed.

“If you’ll excuse us, Melissa, we have dinner plans.”

Ignoring Marc, Melissa glared at Angelina again before adding, “Mama asked me to join the family for dinner tonight to welcome you home.”

Marc’s arm jerked reflexively against her back before he relaxed it again. Angelina wished the floor would just open up now and swallow her whole if she was going to have to sit through this meet-the-parents meal from hell with not only Marc’s intimidating family but a woman who might be an old flame, too.

Ever polite, Marc held his arm out to indicate that Melissa should precede them across the lobby. Angelina got the full impact of Melissa’s perfectly shaped ass and fuck-me stilettos as the woman undulated toward the elevator alcove. Melissa didn’t wobble at all on the heels; Angelina would have fallen flat on her face.

Brass-encased, filigreed mirrors on three walls of the alcove made it impossible to look anywhere without seeing Melissa’s absolutely stunning body. Tearing her gaze away from the woman’s perfection, Angelina looked up at the floor numbers above the elevator doors, watching as one of two cars made its way slowly to the first floor.

She wished she’d gone with Damián and Savi to dinner at the lodge, not wanting to be here. The red floor numbers blurred, and she blinked away tears of frustration and trepidation. When the bell dinged and the door opened, Melissa walked into the elevator with her head held high, as if she owned the place. She turned and pushed the button for the floor she obviously knew by heart, giving Angelina a smug look that clearly stated,
“I belong here. You don’t.”

When Angelina would have followed her into the elevator, Marc’s arm around her waist held her back. Puzzled, she looked up at him as he grinned at Melissa. Angelina followed his gaze.

“Tell my mother we’ve been detained a bit, but we’ll be there shortly.”

The doors began to close on a glaring Melissa, who realized too late she’d been outmaneuvered. Angelina smiled back at her as the doors closed.

“Come,
cara
. We need to talk.”

Oh, Dio
. Her triumphant joy was short-lived. Would he tell her what this woman meant to him?

Leading her back toward the lobby, he guided her into a secluded corner where burgundy velvet covered an expensive-looking empire sofa set between two matching wingback chairs. The furniture surrounded an inlaid mahogany coffee table. The Aspen cityscape shimmered beyond the windows. Marc turned her toward him. Seeing Melissa’s lipstick still marred his cheek, she quickly reached down to pluck a couple of tissues from the box on the coffee table before wiping that woman’s mark off her man’s face.

Memories of the marks he’d placed on her ass from her earlier spanking made her smile.

Mine.

Her smile softened the muscles in Marc’s jaw, which had been hard as steel under her ministrations. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he grinned. “What questions are scurrying through that busy mind of yours,
cara
?” Angelina looked down, but his hand on her chin forced her to return her gaze to his face. “Ask me what you want to know, and I will answer your questions.”

“Who…” Angelina cleared the frog in her throat and started again. Over the past few months, Marc had insisted she tell him truthfully whatever was on her mind. He’d be forthcoming with her as long as she asked the right questions. She’d never needed to ask the right questions more than now.

“Who is she? What does she mean to you?”
Did.
She meant did, not does.

Dio,
please don’t let the woman mean anything to him anymore.

Marc’s warm fingers brushed a stray hair off her forehead. “She’s nothing to me now.” He glanced away, making her nervous. “But there was a time I almost proposed to her.”

Mio Dio
. Angelina didn’t want to know that he was attracted to someone that perfect. That beautiful. Angelina could never have a body like that without serious reconstruction. She wouldn’t do that for any man. Not even Marc.

Marc grabbed her upper arms as she struggled in vain to pull away.

“The operative word,
cara
, is
was
. I found her in bed with Gino the day I planned to propose.”

She searched Marc’s gaze. More relief than regret showed, so she let herself relax a little more. “Did you love her?”

He grinned and shrugged. “I was young and horny and mistook that for love. In these past few months, by exhibiting real love you’ve shown me how stupid I was back then. Let’s just say I was a young man unable to get beyond the woman’s surgically enhanced body to see the phony person inside.” A glint of mischief shone in his eyes. “Besides, you know I prefer yours to plastic ones.”

He reached up, and Angelina looked toward the hallway as she hissed, “Don’t you dare!”

Marc ignored her embarrassment and tweaked her nipple sending heat pooling to her core. “Marc…”

He lowered his face to hers and captured her lips in a searing kiss that only left her wanting more. His teeth pulled at her lower lip, sucking it into his mouth. Their tongues tangled before she broke away, drawing ragged breaths.

He’d already left her on the edge of an orgasm once today. If she made it through this dinner without yanking him into the bathroom for a quickie, it would be a miracle. She could just imagine how swollen and well-kissed her mouth must look now. She hoped it was obvious to Melissa when they got upstairs.

Meow.

“
Bella
, I love everything about your body, because it’s real, not the result of multiple surgeries. But most importantly, I love who you are on the inside. You’re nurturing and kind, incredibly sexy in and out of the bedroom, and cook like a goddess—everything a man could want. Everything
this
man wants.”

He gave her a peck on the cheek and took her hand. “Now, be prepared for Melissa to say things that will upset you, but please don’t take her word for anything. She’s never been particularly honest. If you have questions, our signal will be that you will touch the necklace you’re wearing. When I see that, I’ll know to find us a quiet place to talk before you let that fertile imagination of yours go hurtling off a cliff.”

Marc understood her insecurities so well and always tried to allay her fears. She wished she could keep her mind from automatically discounting herself, because she saw only acceptance, encouragement, and love in his eyes.

“Thank you, Marc. I needed that—and I’ll try not to yank you away from the dinner table more than once every fifteen minutes or so.” She grinned.

His pupils dilated, as if he was thinking along the lines of having that quickie she’d been fantasizing about a few minutes ago.

“We’ll get away as early as we can,
amore
. I believe there’s the unfinished business of one beautiful woman’s orgasm that needs to be taken care of.”