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I pushed his arm off and slipped away, and quickly got up. Matteo didn’t wake. His hair was a complete mess and his face looked honest and almost gentle in sleep. I reached out but stopped myself before I could actually brush my fingers over his forehead. What was wrong with me?

I took a step back. My eyes landed on the discarded ankle monitor on the nightstand and an idea crossed my mind. I snatched up the monitor and rushed into the bathroom with it. The thing couldn’t be destroyed with water. After all, you could shower with it, but maybe I could flush it down the toilet. Not that Matteo couldn’t ask Sandro to bring a new monitor, but the gesture would send a nice message. I plunged the monitor into the toilet and flushed. Unfortunately it got stuck.

“Did you just flush down your ankle monitor?” Matteo asked in a voice raspy with sleep.

I whirled around. He was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his naked chest and an amused expression on his arrogant face. Heat rushed into my cheeks. “I tried, but it got stuck.”

Chuckling, Matteo advanced on me and we both stared down into the bowl. “And who’s going to get it out there now?”

“You?”

Matteo reached down but I grabbed his arm.

“Aren’t you going to put on gloves or something like that?”

“It’s clean and I can wash my hands afterward,” he said with barely disguised amusement. “My hands have been covered with worse, believe me.”

I released him with a shrug. “Do what you want.”

He retrieved the ankle monitor and put it on the washstand, then shoved down his boxer shorts and strode toward the shower, presenting his firm butt to me. He turned on the water and stepped under the stream before facing me again with a raging hard-on. “Wanna join me?”

I grabbed my toothbrush. “No, thanks.”

It took a lot of restrain not to watch Matteo while he showered. I had a feeling he was taking his time on purpose. The water shut off and Matteo stepped out, drying himself with his towel. He nodded toward the ankle monitor. “You realize that it’s still working, right?”

“Oh, come on. I didn’t run away last night. You don’t need to put that thing on me again. I’ll behave.”

“Really?” Matteo asked, dropping the towel and stalking toward me. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

I rolled my eyes. Two could play this game. I pulled my shirt over my head, then slid my panties down my legs before straightening, completely naked. Let Matteo deal with that.

As expected, Matteo’s eyes traveled over my body and his cock twitched in response.

I smiled smugly. “I really hate the monitor. I don’t want to wear it again.”

Matteo leaned against the washbasin, so close that our bodies were almost touching and I could smell his minty shower gel.

“How about a little bet?”

I had a feeling I wouldn’t like what he was going to suggest, but I motioned for him to keep talking.

“If I manage to give you an orgasm today, then we put the ankle monitor back on. If you manage to resist my skills, we throw that thing in the trash.”

“Only one?”

“Greedy girl,” he said teasingly, his dark eyes sparkling with excitement. “I thought you weren’t attracted to me? Are you worried your body won’t be able to resist me?”

I wished he was wrong, but my body really was a horrible traitor. I’d lost count of the times we’d had sex in our short marriage. “No, of course not. But one orgasm seems setting the bar very low for you, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I don’t know. We both know how stubborn you can be, and I promised Luca to put that ankle monitor on you. I can’t make it too easy for you to get rid of it again.” His eyes were drawn to my breasts, then lower. “So what do you say? Resist an orgasm until midnight and you’ll be free of the monitor.”

I backed away from him to be safe. “Okay.”

“Of course you can’t just avoid having an orgasm by not letting me touch you. You have to give me a fair fighting chance.”

I huffed. “A fair chance? What is fair about this?”

Matteo shrugged. “Deal?”

“Deal,” I said grudgingly before dashing into the shower and closing the door. It wouldn’t stop Matteo, but he didn’t try to follow.

Grinning, he walked toward the bedroom. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Okay, I needed to put myself in a mindset of complete calm, needed to figure out a way to make me immune to whatever Matteo was going to do. Problem was my pulse was pounding with excitement when I thought of what he was going to do. Damn it. I closed my eyes and turned the water on cold. Gasping for breath, I started shattering and slowly my arousal abated. After a couple more minutes, I stepped out of the shower, frozen to the bone and hopefully turned off enough to resist Matteo at least for the moment. I headed into the bedroom. Matteo lay on the bed in all his naked glory with his arms crossed behind his head.

I was actually glad for his self-assured smile because it only strengthened my resolve to resist him. Straightening my shoulders, I walked past the bed, determined to head toward the dressing room. “Shouldn’t we get up?”

Matteo’s grin widened. “We have some time. Or are you scared of losing our bet?”

I walked toward the bed without another word. Matteo’s eyes followed every move I made. I should have made a bet that he wasn’t allowed to come. That bet I would have won without trouble judging from the hunger in his gaze. Matteo pulled me down on top of him and kissed me. He took his time, his hands only lightly stroking my back, and yet the pressure between my legs was already close to unbearable.

I tried to think of something else. Anything really, and somehow Matteo seemed to sense that I was drifting away. He flipped us over so he hovered over me, and then my torture began. His mouth closed around my nipple, nibbling and licking, before moving on to my other breast and lavishing that one with the same amount of intention. I lay my palms flat against the bed spread, trying to calm my breathing and racing pulse.


Tags: Cora Reilly Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles Erotic