But why?
He still hasn’t said a single word, his gaze never leaving mine, but seeming to have turned inward. His thumb glides over my cheek, the contact barely noticeable. But I catch it, just like everything else about him.
I don’t do things I don’t like. You shouldn’t waste your energy on it either.
His words from before rush to the forefront of my mind. While he flung them at me in a heated moment, nothing he said was untrue.
As if he can read my thoughts, he comes closer, and in a voice that has an awfully wistful tone to it, he says, “Because I want to be there when the sheltered princess explodes into the fiery queen she’s meant to be.”
My heart stutters before picking up its pace. Unable to help myself, I lean forward, wanting a taste of him, needing it even. He’s made me hungry for a lot of things, things I assumed I might never have, but right now, I’m only hungry for one thing. Him. He’s the one closing the gap as he tilts my head the way he wants it and crashes his lips on mine.
His tongue delves into my mouth, his hand sliding from my wrist and up my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.
With that one touch, that one caress, that one kiss, I’m putty in his hands once more. Or rather, I turn into someone who’s foreign even to me. This sexual side of me is new, and it’s tenacious. Sometimes I’m hesitant, not wanting to make any mistakes and embarrass myself, yet at the same time, I’m starving for him, eager to explore and learn, to enjoy this kind of pleasure I was deprived of for so long.
Matteo moves away from my mouth and kisses along my jaw. “I cannot tell you how badly I want to lay you out on the kitchen island and have you as my dessert, but unfortunately we don’t have time for that.”
My pussy throbs at his words, at the promise of pleasure, while my mouth opens to tell him we have plenty of time. But the doorbell rings before I can get a single word out.
Matteo ignores it and presses me against the cool material of the cabinets, his hard cock rocking against my pelvis and my clit. The moan that comes from between my lips is more of a whimper. It’s needy and greedy, and I want nothing more than to fall into this man’s arms for the next hour or two and explore this sexual connection that’s got me all worked up.
The doorbell rings again, at the same time Matteo’s phone goes off on the counter behind us. He pulls back and closes his eyes. I listen to his deep breaths, each one a little slower and longer than the previous one. When he opens his eyes, the heat in them is gone. The calculated man I’ve come to know so well is back.
His phone goes off once more, but this time, he answers. I barely pay attention to the conversation but walk with him while he makes his way to the elevator.
“Zeno is waiting for me to let him in.”
“Oh.” I grimace. “I better go then. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who likes to wait.”
“I don’t give a fuck. He’s going to have to wait until you get your half-naked ass behind closed doors.” To make a point, he grabs a handful of my flesh and squeezes. “It’s mine to see, not his. Now go.”
He sends me off with a slap on my butt, the implication that my body is only his to see still circling around my mind long after I close the bedroom door firmly behind me.
I curl up on the couch and get lost in my book, reluctantly putting it away a few hours later since it’s time to get ready.
Once the shower is on in the bathroom, I slip out of my pajamas and step under the hot spray. Gosh, I love this shower. The water pressure is just right, the temperature is perfect, and I want to stay in here for hours. I enjoy the heat raining down on me for some time, then wash and condition my hair. Next is the new oversized loofah that Matteo—or probably Luna—got me, which almost feels too good on my skin. Together with the bodywash, it forms a layer of bubbles all over me, and I love how my skin feels all soft and smooth.
I want to be there when the sheltered princess explodes into the fiery queen she’s meant to be.
Matteo’s words pop into my head just as I glide the loofah between my thighs. That man says things to me no one else ever has. Things I need to hear. And he believes in the words, in me, which is as mind-boggling as it is exhilarating.
It’s also a complete turn-on.
My clit tingles while I brush the webbed material over it, so I do it again. Back and forth, back and forth.
Once it doesn’t offer the pressure I need anymore, I abandon the loofah and use my fingers instead. I push two deep inside me, caressing my inner walls, before drawing out enough liquid to spread around my clit and lips. Holy hell, that feels good.
I go back to my clit with my fingertips, making tight circles while also tilting up my pelvis to increase the pressure. Oh my God, yes. I smooth my other hand over my stomach to my breasts, squeezing one, then the other. The first moan escapes me when I pinch my nipple, the sensation shooting like lightning through my body and straight to my clit. My insides tighten, and I know I’m close. While I masturbated before I met Matteo, it’s never felt as intense or as satisfying as it has since I met him. This intense sexual desire yet another thing that’s awoken at his hands, slowly developing with each passing day.
Suddenly, something makes a noise, and my head whips around.
Not something, but someone.
Matteo stares straight at me from a few feet away, an inferno in his eyes as he yanks down his shorts and boxers in one go, kicking them to the side once they hit the floor.
“Show me how you touch yourself whenever you think about me, passerotta.”
His long, hard cock bobs against his stomach, and he grabs it, squeezing the head once before stroking it all the way down. “Show me how you cream yourself for me.”