Marcelo (Heroes & Heartthrobs Book 4) by C.L. Cruz

Author:C.L. Cruz [Cruz, C.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-09-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

Winnie

Winnie

I gently push the door open, and there he is—Marcelo, looking every bit the tall, magnetic man that has haunted my thoughts. He leans against the desk. His usually pristine jet-black hair is tousled from the storm, the dampness accentuating the strength of his olive-toned jawline and the fire in those deep brown eyes. The wet fabric of his shirt clings to his broad chest and sculpted arms. Seeing him like this—disheveled yet still exuding that disciplined charisma—is absolutely captivating.

The realization hits me hard: I'm not just attracted to Marcelo because of our situation; it’s also his raw physicality, the intensity in his gaze, and that underlying vulnerability I've only caught fleeting glimpses of.

“You doing okay?” I ask. “You disappeared before anyone could check on you.”

“I’m fine,” he answers, maybe too quickly.

Taking a shaky breath, I try to lighten the atmosphere. "Do you always chase after women in hurricanes, or am I just the lucky one?"

A hint of a smirk plays on his lips. "You make it sound like I do this often."

I step closer, the pull between us feeling almost palpable. "Just trying to figure out where I stand," my voice wavers, revealing the whirlwind of emotions threatening to take over.

"And where do you think you stand?" he asks, his voice deep, husky, a tone I've never heard before.

In an instant, the space between us disappears. His hand finds my waist, pulling me close with a desperation that reveals his suppressed longing. "That's what I'm here to find out," I whisper, and then his lips are on mine, consuming, passionate, with all the restraint we tried to find gone out the window.

His tongue invades my mouth as his hands grip my waist, his fingers digging into my skin with delicious intensity. I revel in the sensation, the contrasting blend of his military discipline and raw desire. He doesn't hold back, and I love it.

His lips leave mine for a moment, but it's only to trail hot kisses down my neck. My head falls back, giving him better access, and I whimper as his teeth graze my sensitive skin.

"You taste so damn good," he murmurs between kisses. “I’m going to devour you.”

We're drenched from the storm, our clothes clinging to us like second skins, and the room is filled with the intoxicating scent of rain-soaked desire. Marcelo's hands, firm and eager, find the hem of my wet t-shirt. He raises it over my head with a slow, teasing pull, revealing my lacy black bra. Rainwater traces tantalizing rivulets down my skin, following the path of his gaze.

His eyes are smoldering with desire as they lock onto my breasts. "You're so damn beautiful," he murmurs, his voice thick with hunger as his fingers graze the curve of my breasts.

I'm not about to let him have all the fun. My hands slide beneath his soaked shirt, fingers tracing a path up his chiseled chest. I can feel the heat radiating from his body beneath the clinging fabric, driving me wild.

Marcelo's lips descend on one of my hardened nipples, his mouth hot and demanding.

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