Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 135364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Her body arches into mine, soft curves molding against hard muscle as my hands roam beneath the thin fabric of her blouse. My fingers drag up her ribs, pressing against smooth, hot skin as I lift the material higher, desperate to feel more.
"Still hate me?" I murmur against her lips, my tone thick with amusement.
She glares up at me, her green eyes narrowed and dark with something else entirely.
"More than ever."
“Liar.”
The bench beneath her creaks slightly as I press her against it, slotting myself even closer, until every point of contact is charged, burning. I shift, slipping a leg between hers, and - fuck.
A soft, unbidden sound escapes her lips, and it goes straight to my cock.
Her blouse is in my hands now, sliding up and over her head, and when I finally get a full view of her, my breath catches.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this," I murmur, my fingers skimming over the lace of her bra, my other hand already working at the button of her jeans. "You’ve been on my mind constantly since that night."
She exhales a sharp breath, her chest rising against my hand.
“You mean the night you were an insufferable asshole?"
"You’ll have to be more specific, bella,” I smirk, brushing my lips over her jaw. “I’m an insufferable asshole most nights."
She lets out a breathless laugh - fuck, I love that sound - but then my fingers flick the button open, and the sound turns into a sharp inhale.
I don’t waste time.
I don’t tease.
I drag the denim down her thighs and calves, and she lifts her hips instinctively, letting me strip her.
Her body is a fucking dream - all smooth, warm curves and soft skin, spread out beneath me like something I never should’ve had.
But now that I have, I can’t let go.
My fingers skim over the waistband of her panties, teasing, and she shifts slightly, her breath uneven.
I lean in, my lips grazing the shell of her ear.
"Ammettilo," I murmur, my voice low and rough. Admit it. "You’ve thought about this too."
She doesn’t answer with words, but her body betrays her.
Her back arches, her hips lifting instinctively towards me, seeking more.
And dio, I love this.
I love watching her unravel. I love feeling the way she reacts to me, the way her body knows what it wants, even when she refuses to say it.
"Tell me," I urge, my knee pressing more firmly between her thighs.
She shakes her head, stubborn, even as she clings to me.
But I’m nothing if not persistent.
My grip tightens against her hip, my fingers flexing against her skin. I lower myself again, my mouth brushing hers.
"Dai, giornalista," I whisper. "Tell me I’m not the only one who’s been losing my mind over this."
She swallows hard, her pulse hammering against my lips.
And then, finally - finally -
"Fine," she breathes, pulling me closer so that my bare chest is pressed against hers, her nails digging into my back. "Maybe I have thought about it."
I smirk, triumphant; but before I can gloat, she crashes her mouth onto mine, and - fuck.
I groan against her lips, my grip on her tightening as I shift, pressing my thigh between her legs, feeling the wet heat through her panties.
"Finally," I mutter against her mouth, my breath ragged. "I was starting to think you’d keep fighting this forever."
She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, hers dark and full of something dangerous.
"Oh, I still might."
"È così?" Is that so? "Then I’ll just have to convince you."
I kiss her harder, hungrier, my hands roaming every inch of her skin, committing her body to memory. My fingers brush over the centre of her soaked panties, and she whimpers against my mouth.
Fucking whimpers.
"Cristo santo," I breathe, dragging my fingers over the wet fabric. Holy christ. "You’re already so fucking wet for me."
I hook my fingers into her panties, dragging them over her thighs, down her legs, tossing them to the floor as she does the same with her bra.
And then she’s laid out before me, completely fucking bare.
I inhale sharply, my cock throbbing, and before I can think better of it, my hand is between her legs, my fingers sliding through the slick heat of her pussy.
She gasps, her back arching, her hands grasping at my arms.
"You want it, baby?" I murmur, watching her face as I circle my fingers over her swollen clit.
Her head tips back against the bench, her lips parted, her hips shifting against my hand.
I can feel how wet she is. I hear it.
And I want nothing more than to taste her again.
"I need to hear you say it."
She exhales shakily, her fingers digging into my biceps.
"Please," she gasps, her voice wrecked. "I want you, Matteo. Fuck, I need you."
A slow, satisfied smile spreads across my face, but fuck, it’s not enough.