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)
“Professional?” Matteo chuckles, his laugh rich and warm as he pulls me closer, his hands sliding around my waist and inching down towards my ass. “Is that what you call fucking me in the changing room?”
I groan as he palms at my flesh over the fabric of my dress, and his chest rumbles with laughter, the sound warm and indulgent, and then -
Smack.
His palm lands sharply against my ass, making me yelp in surprise.
"Matteo!" I twist to glare at him, but he just grins, all smug satisfaction and lazy confidence.
"Shh. I know you love it," he murmurs, his lips brushing my jaw. “Can practically feel you dripping already.”
I open my mouth to argue, to tell him that he is insufferable and arrogant and so, so full of himself; but then his fingers dig into my ass just enough to make my breath hitch, and the words die on my tongue.
This is dangerous.
Not the physical part (though, let’s be honest, maybe a little), but the way he makes me feel like I belong here.
Like this is more than just a temporary thing.
Matteo’s lips find that spot behind my ear - the one that turns my thoughts to static, the one that makes me forget everything - and I decide that reading into this can wait for another time.
He must sense my surrender, because his smirk deepens against my skin as his large hands slide up my sides and ghost over my panties, his movements slow and deliberate.
"See?" he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. "You do love it."
I let out a huff, determined not to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but my body betrays me and arches instinctively into his touch.
His chuckle is low and knowing as he presses a kiss just beneath my jaw, then another - slower this time, like he’s savouring the moment.
"This isn’t fair," I mumble, my voice unsteady.
"Oh, I think it’s very fair," he muses as he pulls back slightly, brushing the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip and pulling it down. "You drive me crazy, I drive you crazy… it all evens out in the end."
"That is not how fairness works,” I scoff as his hand lowers from my face.
Matteo grins wickedly.
"It is in my house."
Before I can argue, he kisses me again, and - damn him - I let him. I lose myself in the way his lips move over mine, in the way his hands tighten at my waist as he pulls me impossibly closer, in the way he kisses like he has all the time in the world.
Maybe he does. After all, I’m the one with an expiration date.
My hands grip to his shoulders as Matteo’s lips move over mine. His fingers slip beneath the hem of my dress again, sliding up my thighs with deliberate slowness, and I groan as he guides me closer on his lap so I’m straddling him fully, the centre of my panties fully lining up over the outline of his hard cock.
"There we go," he murmurs, his fingers tracing mindless circles over my bare skin. "Much better."
I roll my eyes.
"Who knew you’d like having me on top of you."
His grin is pure sin.
"I’m sure you could have guessed," he says as his hands flex against my thighs. "And I think you like it, too."
I open my mouth to argue, but his lips brush the sensitive spot behind my ear again, and my thoughts turn into nothing but static.
"Shit," I breathe.
"See? Told you."
I shift slightly in his lap, and his breath hitches.
Ha.
"Have I ever told you that you’re insufferable?" I ask as my hands slide up to cup his jaw, my thumbs brush over the slight display of dark stubble that’s forming.
"And yet, you adore me," he counters, tilting his head back slightly as I press a slow, teasing kiss beneath his jawline.
I hum noncommittally, my lips trailing down the column of his throat.
"That’s debatable."
His chest rumbles with laughter, but it cuts off sharply when I rock against him just so. His fingers dig into my thighs, and his throat bobs as he swallows.
"Daphne," he warns, his accent delicious as his voice strains.
I smirk against the column of his throat.
"Something wrong?"
He glares at me, eyes dark with something I really shouldn’t find as satisfying as I do.
"You’re playing a dangerous game, bella."
I shrug, dragging my nails lightly over his shoulders.
"You don’t remember? I told you before - I like danger."
Matteo mutters something in rapid Italian - something that sounds distinctly not PG - before gripping my hips and flipping us so that I’m on my back against the couch, pinned beneath him.
His weight, his heat, the way he’s looking down at me with pure, unfiltered hunger in his gaze - it steals my breath.
"Still feel like playing?" he asks, his voice low, rough, teasing.