Page 18

We arrive at her door just in time. The hunger in me is getting to a point where I can’t hold back much longer. I shouldn’t have this visceral reaction to her being this close, but I do. She is like a siren calling me into her waters, and I am helpless to resist her.

We walk into the room and, without wasting time, I capture her lips in mine and shut the door.

Maria’s lips are plump and swollen from my kiss, a sight so intoxicating I nearly lose myself all over again.

“My God, you are breathtaking,” I murmur, my voice thick with hunger. My thumb brushes along her jaw, the soft skin warm beneath my touch. “Everything about you is… magnificent.”

She holds my gaze, her dark eyes glistening under the dim light, an unspoken challenge flickering in their depths. A slow smile spreads across her face as she reaches up, her fingers barely grazing my cheek, her touch featherlight but searing.

“You always say the right things,” she whispers, her voice husky.

I capture her wandering hand in mine and press my lips to her palm, lingering there, savoring her scent, her softness.

A foreign sensation claws at my chest—gentleness, tenderness, restraint.

I don’t recognize this version of myself, but the thought of not touching her, not taking her, is unbearable.

“I only speak the truth,” I murmur.

Maria is living artwork—every inch of her designed to undo me.

Her breath catches, and her chest rises, pushing against me, teasing me with the promise of more. I shouldn’t lean into this, shouldn’t lean into her, but I do. I always do.

“I’m going to claim you, Maria,” I tell her, cupping the side of her face, my thumb brushing her lower lip. “I will try to be gentle, but that is not the man I am. I want to ruin every man who came before me. I want to be the only one you think about.”

Her eyes widen slightly, but there’s no fear—only desire, dark and deep, burning as fiercely as my own. She tilts her head, her lips brushing the pulse at my wrist before she whispers, “Then don’t be gentle.”

My control snaps.

A growl rumbles from my chest as I grab her, lifting her effortlessly. Her legs wrap around my waist, her back hitting the wall hard enough to rattle the frame beside us, but she only gasps, her fingers tightening in my hair. She wants this. She needs this.

“Matteo,” she breathes my name, a sound so sweet, so full of hunger, that I nearly lose myself then and there.

I take her mouth in a searing kiss, my hands mapping the curves of her body, tracing the swell of her breasts, the smoothness of her thighs.

Needing more, needing all of her, I lift her into my arms and carry her to the bed, dropping her onto the mattress with a controlled roughness. She bounces slightly, her dark hair splayed across the pillow like a masterpiece.

I kneel between her legs, my hands gliding down her inner thighs. “You knew exactly what you were doing to me tonight, didn’t you?” I murmur, my lips tracing the path my hands made.

She shivers, her fingers grasping the sheets. “I hoped.”

“Clever girl.” My mouth finds her breast, sucking, biting, leaving my mark as my hand slides between her thighs. When my fingers finally touch her, she gasps, arching against me. She’s soaked, ready, desperate.

I smirk against her skin. “You’re already so wet for me.”

“Matteo, please…” she whimpers, grinding against my palm.

I press a single finger inside her, slow, teasing, savoring the way her body clenches around me. Her head falls back, a moan escaping her lips. I add another finger, curling them just so, watching her fall apart in my hands.

“You like that?” I whisper into her ear, my fingers working in slow, deliberate strokes.

“Y-yes,” she gasps, her body trembling beneath me. “More.”

I slide down, spreading her thighs wider as I replace my fingers with my mouth. The moment my tongue flicks against her, she cries out, her hands tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. Her body bucks, but I grip her hips, holding her in place as I feast on her.

“Matteo—” Her voice is a breathless plea. “I can’t?—”

“You will,” I murmur against her. “You’re mine, Maria. Come for me.”

A scream tears from her throat as she shatters, her body convulsing, her nails digging into my scalp. I don’t let up, drawing every last tremor from her until she’s panting, spent.

When I rise above her, she’s a vision—flushed, glowing, her lips parted in breathless exhaustion. I palm my belt, unbuckling it with one hand, my gaze never leaving hers.

She watches, transfixed, as I free myself. Her eyes widen slightly, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. “My God…”

I smirk, gripping my cock, stroking it slowly. “Too much for you, cara?”

She grins, sitting up on her elbows, mischief in her eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

Her hand wraps around me, soft and warm, moving with an innocent curiosity that nearly undoes me. I groan, my grip tightening in her hair as she strokes me, learning what makes me weak.

“Enough,” I growl, pushing her back down onto the bed. “I need to be inside you.”

Her legs spread wider in invitation. I hover over her, teasing her entrance with the tip of my cock. But then I pause, my forehead resting against hers. “Tell me you want this, Maria. Tell me you need me.”

Her fingers slide up my arms, her nails raking lightly down my back. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life, Matteo. Now, take me.”

With a single thrust, I bury myself inside her, groaning at the way her body clenches around me, so tight, so perfect. Her breath hitches, her nails digging deeper. “Oh, Matteo?—”

I grit my teeth, fighting for control, letting her adjust. “Tell me when.”

Her hips roll against mine. “Now.”

I move, slow at first, deep and deliberate, savoring every inch of her. But it’s not enough. Not for either of us. When her nails rake down my back, my restraint snaps. I grip her hips and thrust harder, driving into her with the force of every unspoken desire.

“Harder,” she begs. “Don’t hold back.”

I obey, pounding into her until the bed shakes beneath us, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room. Her moans grow frantic, her thighs tightening around me. She’s close—so am I.

“Come for me, Maria,” I growl, my fingers finding her clit. “Let go.”

She shatters with a scream, her body writhing, her walls clenching around me so tightly I follow, groaning her name as I spill deep inside her.

I collapse beside her, pulling her into my chest, her body still trembling.

“Are you all right?” I ask, brushing a strand of hair from her face with unexpected tenderness.

She smiles. “I’m perfect.”

“I wasn’t too rough?” The question feels foreign on my tongue. Since when do I care about such things? Since when do I ask instead of take?

She laughs softly, the sound vibrating against my chest. “You were exactly what I needed.” Her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Besides, I believe I was the one who told you not to be gentle.”

I capture her wandering hand, bringing it to my lips. “So you did.”

The moonlight casts shadows across her face, highlighting the curve of her cheek, the fullness of her lips. I find myself memorizing these details, storing them away like precious artifacts. This isn’t like me. I don’t linger. I don’t savor. I take what I want and move on.

“Sleep.” I bury my nose into her hair. “Tomorrow is another day.”

She doesn’t reply. Her eyes are already closed and her chest rises and falls slowly. I try to close my eyes but sleep never finds me. Instead I stay awake with my stare focused ahead and my wife in my arms.

It’s the calm after the storm. Maria lays on my chest, her hair sprawled out on my skin and her leg and arm draped over me. Her naked body molds into mine perfectly, like she is made for me.

I don’t even want to entertain the thought of her being my perfect fit. I need to keep everything as surface-level as possible.

I look down at my wife. Her face is at ease and she sleeps peacefully in my arms. I dare to brush the stray strands that kiss her cheeks and tuck them behind her ear. She only stirs a little and my heart lurches in my chest when she snuggles into me.

I don’t like the way my heart melts like ice when I am near her. It’s bad enough I need to mask it all, but here, in the thick of the silence with only my thoughts as company, I fear that the truth is too hard for me to face.

This is just sex. It can only be just sex. But it doesn’t go beyond that. It can’t.

I cannot allow myself to get to close, not again. She is an obligation that I have to fulfil and one that I cannot afford to fumble. This is nothing more than a part of the business agreement.

I don’t know if I am trying to convince myself into believing it.

I will do well to remember my place in all of this. And most of all, I will remember—Maria will never be mine. Not truly. No matter how much I fucking wish she was.