time with her, love her gentle and easy like he had that first time, like she wanted him to, but he hadn’t slowed down. It was almost like he hated himself for wanting her and he punished her for it. Although, the pleasure she got out of his rough handling made up for it, in the end.
She had to fight off her urge to claw her way up to his body, to climb onto him and make him fuck her, as his kiss went deeper, became even hungrier. He nudged her back, pressed her into the wall, and spread her knees apart with a firm hand. His fingers found her center, damp from more than the shower, and began to tease her into an anguished moan. He knew how to touch her, how to set her off, to make her come quickly now, and he worked at her in tight circles that tormented her but blew her mind. His other hand came up, to tease at a stiff nipple before his mouth broke away from hers. She would have protested, but she knew where he was headed. His hot mouth engulfed the other tight peak just as her body convulsed against the wall.
He gave a pleased moan against her nipple and was inside of her, her legs wrapped around his waist before she’d even completely finished. The sensation of his thick cock opening her wide, stroking every nerve cell on its way, made her bite her bottom lip to stop another moan. The way he touched her, the way he kissed her, the way he fucked her, all of it said she was his, and he was hers, and it made her clench so hard around him he gave a grunt of surprise.
Hot water sprayed in her face made it hard to breathe, but she didn’t care if she suffocated, so long as he continued to fuck her there against that wall. He was over her, inside of her, and she came all over again, unable to escape the emotions, the pleasure he sucked out of her.
When he was finished with his teasing of her, he ducked his down into the top of her wet head and held her tightly in place. Careful, precise thrusts, timed to his own perfect cadence, built her right back up again, but this time when she exploded, so did Matteo. They clutched at each other, her nails in his shoulders, his in the globes of her ass, as they cried out together one final time.
He held her until he found his way back to breathing properly and then let her slide down the wall. He looked down at her for a minute, an unguarded minute, where she saw his confusion. She didn’t understand, but didn’t dare reach out to him, didn’t dare move unless he broke the moment. She didn’t want him to rush away but knew he would if she moved or spoke a word.
“You, you make me…,” he turned away from her and she knew the moment was gone. “Fuck…”
He left her to finish her shower and Marie wondered who had broken him so damn much. Was it Celeste or his mother? Or a past lover? Maybe that’s who had turned him into this cold man that couldn’t even admit he cared about her, much less loved her. She’d seen it in his eyes, for only a second, but it had been there. Love. Love that confused him, love that made him walk away from her.
She finished her shower and turned the water off. She toweled off slowly, not eager to climb into bed with him just yet. She ran the towel over her hair, squeezed it out until it was only slightly damp. She brushed the strands out and then put on a nightgown before she sat down on the toilet. She didn’t want to go in there with him.
A tear slid down from her eye, a tear of hurt and confusion. Everything had been so good between them before her mother died. Everything was sweet, romantic, even the way he’d held off from taking her to bed had been romantic. He’d seemed capable of love, even if he was still a little reserved. This man was almost… broken.
He didn’t know how to love, and she wondered if playing the role of the adoring suitor had come easy because he’d been acting. Now, he was a real husband and had no idea what that meant. His father was gone, from what