Chapter 20

Marco’s own arousal stirred, but he held it back, respecting the boundaries they had carefully navigated since their marriage.

Delilah, sensing his gaze lingering on her, huffed slightly.

"You're crossing the line," she said, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Crossing what line?" Marco replied, his voice teasing as he raised an eyebrow.

Delilah smirked, pushing him lightly, forcing him to shift to the other side of the bed.

"That’s it. Your side of the bed. Stay there. And don't cross this."

Marco glanced down at what she called "this"—a pillow she had placed down the middle of the bed, dividing it into two clear halves.

He hadn’t even noticed it when he first climbed in, too focused on her.

With a sly grin, Marco leaned over, grabbed the pillow, and tossed it to the floor without a second thought.

"I married you," he said, his tone playful yet firm, as he shifted closer to her, pulling her against him. "That means I’m allowed to do this."

Delilah’s breath hitched as Marco’s warmth enveloped her.

His arm wrapped around her waist, and his chest pressed against her back.

It wasn’t an aggressive move, but a possessive one, something she hadn’t expected to enjoy as much as she did.

Still, she wasn’t going to give in that easily.

"Marco," she began, trying to sound stern, but her voice betrayed her as it softened. "You're not supposed to—"

"Supposed to what?" he interrupted, his voice low and smooth in her ear. "Hold my wife?"

She could feel her face heat up, the blush creeping up her neck as his breath brushed against her skin.

His lips grazed her ear, making her heart race faster than she'd care to admit.

"We have rules, Marco," she tried again, though her protest was growing weaker by the second.

Marco chuckled softly, his grip tightening just a little, but still gentle.

"The only rule tonight is this," he murmured, turning her slightly so she was facing him, their noses almost touching now. "You and me. Together."

Delilah stared at him, her eyes searching his for any sign of humor, but all she saw was sincerity.

His gaze was intense, but it didn’t make her feel nervous or threatened.

Instead, it made her feel... safe.

She didn’t want to admit it, but the closeness—the warmth—was comforting, especially with the rain pattering against the windows, stirring up memories she’d rather avoid.

She sighed, finally giving in. 

"Fine," she muttered, though she wasn’t really angry. "But don’t think I’m just going to let you do this every time."

Her words sounded firm, but inside, a quiet storm was brewing. 

She wasn't used to feeling this way—like she could let her guard down without paying a price. 

It had been so long since she'd trusted someone this deeply, let alone a man who could easily crush her heart if he wanted to.

But Marco was different. **Wasn't he?** 

There was a possessiveness in his touch, but it didn’t come with the suffocating weight she feared. 

Instead, it felt... protective. Secure. 

A warmth that wrapped around her without demanding too much. 

Maybe that’s what scared her the most—the way she was already softening under his embrace when she should be pulling away.

**What if this was all a game to him?** 

The thought flickered in her mind, a defense she’d used countless times before. 

Yet, when she looked up at Marco, all she saw was sincerity, his eyes watching her with something that made her chest tighten in a way that was both unfamiliar and oddly comforting.

Marco grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and pulled her even closer, pressing a light kiss to her temple. "I’ll take my chances."

Delilah rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.

She couldn’t deny the way her body had relaxed against his, the warmth and security of being held by him easing the tension she hadn’t even realized she’d been carrying.

For a while, they stayed like that—quiet, with only the sound of the rain outside and their slow, steady breaths filling the room.

Marco’s hand rested on her hip, and her fingers absently traced the patterns on his pajama sleeve.

She stole a glance up at him. "You really are something, you know that?"

Marco smirked down at her, his eyes glinting in the low light. "You’re just realizing that now?"

"Maybe," she said softly, her eyelids growing heavy as sleep finally began to pull her back under.

Marco’s smile faded into something softer as he watched her drift off, his fingers still gently caressing her side.

He could feel her steady breathing, the way her body relaxed into his, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Marco felt... at peace.