Page 97 of The Midnight Club
His whole body trembled as he pushed aside the sliding door to her room. Ori, her dark hair spread about the pillow, was pale, her usually golden-honey skin yellow and wan.
“Mio caro,” he whispered to her as he bent over her to kiss her cool cheek. The bleep of the machines reminded him what was keeping her alive, and the pain was intense.
Maceo pulled up a chair next to her and stroked her hair. He let out a long breath. Since confronting his friends, the fight had gone out of him. The shock on some of their faces, the agreement on others. He knew who had done this; he was just waiting for him to confess. Viola. Ori. There was only one person in Maceo’s mind, one suspect, but he wanted the killer to confess. He had no proof of anything other than that Ori was here, and she might not wake up.
He laid his head on the bed and closed his eyes, his fingers interlocked with hers. A memory.
The beginning of their relationship, the very beginning, that first heavenly weekend of making love, eating good food, wandering around the city. They’d been out in the sun all day, and Ori had offered to cook for him at her apartment so they could enjoy some private time. She’d made a sumptuous duck a l’ orange for their supper, and afterward, they sat together on her tiny balcony, Ori leaning back against his chest, his lips against her temple.
“Tell me about your friends in this Midnight Club. Were you all really born on the same day?”
Maceo smiled. “We were. When the other students found out about the weird coincidence, they were ones who gave us that name. We just took it as a badge of honor. God, we were such kids.”
Ori laughed. “So you were the kings of that campus?”
“We thought so then; well, if I’m fair, it was more me, Lisander, and Benoit who were the sluts and showmen. Alex and Seth were more reserved. Puritans, I used to call them. But really, they were just more mature.”
“They’re not from the Romance countries of the world,” Ori mused. “Was it more a cultural thing?”
Maceo considered. “I never thought of it like that. Maybe so. Smart girl.”
Ori grinned. “I have my moments. Who are you closest to out of them?”
Maceo thought about that. “Probably Alex.” He laughed softly. “He’s the one who has the most patience with me. I get a little excitable at times.”
Ori sat up and turned around to face him. “Don’t I know it?”
Maceo grinned and pressed his lips to hers. “You can hardly blame me, mio caro, when such incentive is before me.”
His fingers were at the buttons of her dress now, and she watched him slowly undo them, his gaze drifting between her own and the skin he was exposing. “Your skin is like honey,.” he said softly, letting his fingertips trace a line between her breasts before pushing back the bodice and sliding her bra straps from her shoulders. He stroked her skin gently, his lips on her shoulders, trailing along her collarbone to her throat. “You’re so beautiful, bella, so lovely …”
His movements were slow and sensual and Ori gave herself to him completely. He gathered her to him and carried her inside to the bed, removing her dress and panties and stepping back to both strip himself and admire her body. They had no need for words now, the connection between them was so strong and full of trust. Maceo felt his cock harden and stiffen as he slid a hand along the length of her leg as he buried his face in her softly curved belly. His tongue traced a circle around her navel, dipping into the deep hollow of it. He heard Ori gasp and felt her fingers tangle in his dark curls as his own found the slick crevice of her sex, his thumb strumming a beat on her clit. Her skin smelt of soap and fresh air. He looked up at her.
“The first time I saw you,” he murmured, the deep timbre of his voice making her smile, “I wondered what your cunt would taste like. I dreamed about what it would feel like to be inside you and feel the soft flesh of your inner thighs against my hips as I fucked you.”
He could tell how turned on she was by his dirty talk and smiled. He moved up her body, stopping to gently bite down on each perky nipple, grazing them with his teeth before he covered her mouth with his. “The reality, mio prezioso tesoro Ori, is so much better than I could ever have dreamed.” He sat up, gently pressed her legs apart and lowered himself back onto her, gently wrapping her legs around him as his cock slid into her ready cunt. He thrust his hips hard, watching her expression change and soften with the pleasure of him inside her.
“Bella, I love to watch you as I fuck you. Your lovely face, that blush in your cheeks, the way your mouth opens as you cry out ...”
Ori moaned, and he knew that she was responding not just to his cock plunging deeply into her but to his words. He loved having this power over her, but never before had he himself been so emotionally connected to a woman, to another person. He wanted her, just her, never wanted this night to end.
“Ho intenzione di scoparti fino a quando non mi preghi di smettere …” he growled as his thrusts grew harder, deeper, quicker. “I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop, Il mio dolce Ori.” My sweet Ori.
True to his word, she was screaming his name by the time he made her come for the fifth time but he was relentless, taking her in every way he could imagine. Fucking her perfect ass brought new pleasure to them both, Ori telling him that she’d never tried it before and Maceo schooling her gently as they moved together.
Finally, as dawn was breaking over Venice, they held each other and slept, exhausted and sated.
Maceo studiedthe face of the woman he had known he was in love with that same night. If it hadn’t been for her paleness, the machinery keeping her alive, he could almost have seen her as he did that night, sleeping peacefully.
Except ... he would never get over the sight of her in his car that night, stabbed, bleeding, dying. The sound of her breath hitching and catching as she struggled to drag oxygen into her lungs. Maceo squeezed his eyes shut and willed the images to go away. What was worse was he imagined the killer stabbing her, her fear, terror, pain.
“Stop it,” he groaned to himself. He couldn’t change that. But he could do everything in his power to find out who did this to Ori. He was convinced, utterly sure, that he knew who Ori’s would-be killer was. He wassure.
Alex.
Lisander and Kate had talked all night after Maceo’s accusation. “He’s serious,” Lisander said without rancor. “Soweshould take it seriously.”
Kate nodded. They had ordered room service, and Kate had spent the night writing notes as they tried to figure out who and why. At one point, Kate had written Alex, Seth and Benoit’s names down and pinned them to the wall. Lisander, in a move which shocked her, wrote his own name down and Maceo’s and added them. Seeing her expression, he half smiled.
