Chapter Text
“Wow,” I muttered, laying in bed next to Marcone as our breathing returned to normal. Why had I gone so much of my life not knowing this was something I liked? Something I wanted?
Marcone turned his head to the side to look at me with a wolfish smile. “I agree.”
He rolled out of bed and I watched him, my eyes greedily tracing the lines of his body. I’d left some marks on his shoulders, and I really liked seeing that. Because he’d let me mark him. John Marcone was mine. It was intoxicating.
Marcone ducked down, and I realized he was plugging in the phone on the bedside table. I grinned at him. “So what, you think you’re so good in bed that I’d fry everything in the area?” Admittedly, it was possible, but I sure as hell wasn’t telling him that.
He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t know what to expect, but history has taught me to always be prepared for destruction when you’re involved. You have an incessant tendency to blow stuff up..”
“Hey, come on, I don’t always blow stuff up,” I protested.
“My property insurance would disagree,” he said dryly before reaching for the phone.
I frowned, propping myself up on my elbow. “Who’re you calling right now?” If he was making a business call right after sex…
“Room service,” he interrupted my thoughts. “Given your appetite, I assumed you were hungry.”
I’d had other things on my mind, but now that he mentioned it, I realized he was right. It was past my usual dinnertime, and I’d, uh… worked up an appetite. I relaxed back onto the bed as he called down to room service, appreciating that he’d thought to do so. I still had that post-orgasm tranquility, and I was more than happy to just bask in the bliss of it while Marcone took care of ordering food.
Once he was done, he disappeared into what must be the bathroom for a few minutes, and then emerged wearing a bathrobe and carrying a cloth. He walked over to me and started cleaning me up.
“You really are a gentleman,” I teased, relaxing into his touch.
His eyes crinkled in amusement, but he didn’t comment, focusing on the task at hand. I let him, enjoying his attention and letting my eyes fall shut. I might have drifted for a bit because when I opened my eyes, the stickiness was gone.
“Guess you really do like taking care of me, huh?” I broke the silence.
Marcone’s eyes drifted up to my face and he smiled. “It does have a certain appeal. Mostly because you’re letting me.”
I gave a slight shrug. “I’m enjoying it.”
Something akin to pride burned in his eyes at that, but then he stepped away, going to drop the rag into a laundry hamper near the bathroom.
“How are you feeling?” he asked with his back still towards me.
“Great,” I answered honestly.
Marcone turned back around, looking at me carefully for a moment before he moved back over to my side. “Good. I’d meant to take things slower, but…”
“Yeah, slow wasn’t really an option,” I agreed. I’d also intended to talk to him before we went to bed together, but clearly it hadn’t worked out that way. “I’m good, though. Honest.”
He nodded, leaning back against the wall that was just a couple feet from the side of the bed. “You may be sore tomorrow,” he warned.
Yeah, the Winter Mantle didn’t do a whole lot for soreness, but… I didn’t hate the idea of having the reminder tomorrow. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
He smirked. “That’s not what you told me.”
“Oh, shut up. That’s not what I meant.” I shook my head and then fixed him with a pointed look. “You like that you’re the only one I’ve done that with, don’t you?” I accused.
“I do,” he admitted shamelessly.
I made a thoughtful sound. “And just how long have you wanted that?” I asked curiously.
He met my eyes. “I’ve wanted you since the very first time you mouthed off to me. Though I was, at that point, thinking more along the lines of finding a better use for your mouth. Obviously, things evolved over time.”
My eyes widened slightly. “That’s a long time, John.”
“It is,” he acknowledged.
“How come you never tried anything?”
His mouth twisted into an amused smile. “Because I didn’t want to be set on fire.”
“Oh.” Yeah, he made a good point there. I put on my best game show host voice. “Well, John Marcone, you just bedded Chicago’s wizard, what are you going to do next?”
He narrowed his eyes as he straightened, clearly turning up his intimidation factor as he looked down at me. “Possibly strangle him.”
I shrugged casually. “Hey, if you’re into it, I’m willing to try,” I said sincerely.
Marcone froze, his surprise completely evident on his face. Which just wasn’t something that happened with John Marcone. I knew him well enough that I could catch the surprise in his eyes, I knew his tell when he blinked. But he never showed his shock so openly. He just didn’t. Except for right now, apparently.
“What?” I asked innocently. “I’ll admit, I’m pretty vanilla, but I’m willing to experiment.” It was much easier right now to act like it wasn’t anything weird or crazy that I was talking about future sex with John Marcone. Like it was just a given that it would happen. Because if I acted like it was weird, I’d start overthinking it, and then I would start panicking. And frankly, I just wanted to enjoy this.
“I’m trying to decide if you’re joking or not,” he murmured, visibly composing himself.
“I’m one-hundred percent serious, John. Unless, of course, you didn’t want to do this again,” I added with a grin.
A second later, he was kissing me, his hand gripping my shoulder, and he brought his knee up to kneel on the edge of the bed, giving himself more leverage. I returned the kiss gladly, left hand twisting in his hair, while my right reached for his side. We stayed like that until there was a knock at the door, and Marcone reluctantly pulled away.
“That will be room service,” he said, his voice perhaps a touch rougher than usual. “I’ll go get it. There’s another robe in the bathroom, if you like. Though…” His eyes roamed over my naked body. “I wouldn’t be opposed if you chose not to wear it.” He left the room with a faint smirk in my direction.
I decided that Marcone didn’t need the ego boost of me actually listening to him, and I also wasn’t about to give him the advantage of wearing a robe while I was in nothing, so I retrieved the second robe from the bathroom before joining him in the main room. He had already put the plates from room service on the table, and was in the process of pouring himself a glass of whiskey at the bar.
“Would you like one?” he asked over his shoulder as I took a seat at the table.
“Sure.” I began uncovering plates, and a minute later, Marcone placed a glass down in front of me and took the seat across from me.
“To be sure,” he said as we began to dig into our food. “There aren’t any aftereffects to what we just experienced that would alter your perceptions or inhibitions?”
I snorted. “Nope. Didn’t realize your self-esteem was so low you thought I’d need a magical roofie to sleep with you.”
“That is not the issue,” he said coolly. “I don’t doubt that you can be attracted to me. What I doubt is your willingness to act on it.”
Which was totally fair considering the stance I’d taken over the last several months. “Well… I kinda surprised myself with that, too,” I said honestly. “But that was before tonight, so it’s definitely not an aftereffect.”
He looked at me thoughtfully. “You should have said.”
“You told me you try to avoid people you’re attracted to,” I pointed out, maybe just a bit grumpily because how the hell had I been supposed to know that I was an exception to his rule? “I didn’t want to throw a wrench into that.”
Marcone’s laughter was full and genuine. “That, of all things, is what you decide not to throw a wrench into.” He shook his head, but his amused smile was still in place. “If you hadn’t noticed, agreeing to marry you isn’t exactly avoidance.”
“So what, you just decided to make an exception for me?”
“I’ve been making exceptions for you since we met,” he said matter-of-factly. “What’s one more when frankly, the damage had already been done?”
“Oh? And what other exceptions have you made for me?” I pressed with a smile.
“You’re still breathing,” he answered bluntly.
I blinked. I probably should have expected that. “Wow, John, you say the sweetest things,” I gushed sarcastically.
He rolled his eyes. “You’re bad for business, Harry. I should have taken you out ages ago.” He said it as though he was remarking on an investment decision, rather than talking about having me killed. But to him, that was probably about the same.
“And instead, you got married to me,” I said brightly.
“Yes. As I said, feelings complicate things. As does your mere existence.”
There was nothing quite like your new husband telling you that your existence complicated things. It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “Sorry I’m so irresistible.”
“I’ve managed,” he said dryly.
We finished our dinner, then Marcone returned to the bar to top off his drink. And that was when I finally got up the nerve to ask what I wanted to.
“Hey, there was something I wanted to talk to you about,” I said casually, following him over to the bar.
“Oh?” He arched an eyebrow at me curiously as he poured his drink.
“You said, a while back, that you appreciated my Princess Bride reference,” I started, hoping my voice didn’t betray my nerves.
He turned to me, eyes amused over the rim of his glass. “I believe I said I appreciated the movie, not your reference.”
“Okay, but you like the movie?” I asked with mild exasperation.
“I wouldn’t say it’s a favorite, but I do enjoy it,” he confirmed, watching me as he took a sip of his drink.
“And, uh…” I scratched the back of my neck, feeling a bit ridiculous, despite my gut feeling that I was right on this. “You’ve said ‘as you wish’ to me. A lot.”
He took another drink as he watched me squirm, laughter in his eyes. “I have.”
Between the mirth in his eyes and his tone of voice, it sounded an awful lot like Oh, you’ve finally picked up on it? And you see, that sounded like a challenge. And I could handle a challenge.
I shoved my nerves away as I narrowed my eyes and stepped right in front of Marcone, my hands shooting out to rest on the bar on either side of him, pinning him in. “Something you want to tell me, John?” I asked in a low voice.
Marcone didn’t back down from a challenge, either. He met my gaze steadily as he reached behind him to set his glass down. “I don’t know. But this line of questioning makes me think there’s something you might want to tell me, Mr. Dresden.”
“Harry,” I corrected with a wry smile.
He responded with a smirk. “Earn it,” he purred.
Now, I knew what he meant by that. Earn the drop of formality by standing down and admitting my feelings. And it wasn’t that I was opposed to the idea. It’d been my intention when I’d started this conversation. But it would be a cold day in hell when I let John Marcone goad me into doing something. So instead, I deliberately misinterpreted his words.
“Well, if you insist.” I dropped to my knees in front of him, pushing his robe out of the way so that I could take him in hand. His cock had already started to take an interest, so before I could chicken out, I leaned in and took him into my mouth.
“Harry,” he gasped, his hand instinctively grabbing for my head.
I smirked broadly as I pulled off and rose to my feet. “Well, that was easy,” I said victoriously.
He glared at me, and the hand that had been reaching for my head dropped to my hip, gripping tightly and pulling me forward. “You are a fucking tease,” he growled.
I shrugged, licking my lips. “Earn it,” I threw back at him.
He spun us around, and then John Marcone did not hesitate before going down on his knees for me. And that did things to me, let me tell you. And that was without even taking into account how unfairly skilled the guy was with his mouth. And his hands. Just… he knew what he was doing, okay? I felt clumsy and uncoordinated when I returned the favor, but judging from his reactions, he didn’t seem to mind. Maybe I wasn’t as bad at it as I thought, or maybe it was just because it was me. Either way, it was a good ego boost.
We had relocated to the couch along the way, and I now crawled up his body to lay on top of him. The couch was so large that I only had to bend my knees a little bit, and I found myself actually comfortable. Maybe I should let Marcone buy us a nice, big couch like this. But I would have to go with him to make sure it was actually comfortable.
I grinned up at him. “Told you you’d have to return the favor of being a human pillow.”
“You did,” he chuckled, bringing one arm around me while his other hand moved to brush my hair back from my face. Both the gesture and his gaze were surprisingly tender.
I stretched up to kiss him, softly, languidly, enjoying the moment. He sighed against my lips, and his hands brushed over me, his touch gentle and comforting, lacking the insistence that had been there earlier in the night. I placed light kisses down his neck as I returned to his chest, resting my head over his heartbeat as I curled around him.
“I still hate what you do,” I felt inclined to say a moment later.
“I had no doubt,” he assured me.
I didn’t say anything for a minute, my hand tracing over his skin made available to me beneath his open robe, trying to ignore how my stomach was twisting with dread. Because now that this was real, it was something I could lose. And that terrified me.
“What if this blows up in our faces?” the words finally spilled out, barely more than a whisper. “We’ll still have to be married.” I didn’t know how I could possibly endure being married to Marcone if our relationship went sideways. It would hurt, and knowing us, we’d probably be trying to kill each other. And that wouldn’t be good for the alliance.
Marcone didn’t respond right away, choosing his words carefully. “Weren’t you just trying to convince me that you don’t blow everything up?”
“Well, yeah, but-”
“Then prove it, Harry.”
I lifted my head up off his chest to blink up at him. Had he just… turned our relationship into a challenge?
He smiled like a shark tasting blood in the water. “Unless you want to give up now?”
Like hell. I narrowed my eyes as I propelled myself up to catch his lips in another kiss. Challenge accepted.