“You were so tight,” Matthew murmured as he surged forward, again and again. “So fucking tight.”
His thumb pressed, penetrated slightly. My chin tipped toward the sky as I arched back toward him. Lord, there was nothing like this. He was so big, I was so ready, and together we were…
“Perfect,” Matthew rumbled again. He began to quicken his pace. He took hold of my hips even tighter, then moved one hand around to find my clit again. “Can you? Right here for me, baby? Will you let go so I can feel it?”
My body began to shake. I was surrounded by friction—Matthew inside me, his hand on my clit, the other on my backside. Teeth on my neck, the tree under my cheek. A moan escaped me, a siren from the depths of my soul. Matthew plunged forward and bit my skin. The hand between my legs pinched every so lightly. And I fell apart. We fell apart. Together, animals in nature. Lovers in heaven.
If only, my addled brain thought as I slowly returned to consciousness, we belonged there.
I sagged into the tree, barely registering Matthew’s slow return to normal breathing, then his careful movements to put us both back together. When at last he had pulled my breeches back into place, then turned me gently to fasten them, I was already crying. Two silent streams of tears fell down my cheeks all over again.
The same emotions I felt were echoed all over his stark, beautiful face.
Love.
Anger.
Desperation.
Shame.
Matthew slipped a warm hand around my neck and pulled me close, tucking my chin into his chest so he could stroke my hair.
“Shh, baby. I know. I know.”
“I just—why can’t—how could—”
The words were choked between sudden violent sobs. Matthew rocked me back and forth, soothing my pain and perhaps his own too.
And after all, this was likely it. I already knew there was no way I could stay through the weekend. I needed to go home. Gather my things and Olivia’s. Find some way to convince my husband I needed to leave for a few weeks without looking suspicious.
Once I was gone, there would be no reason to see Matthew again. He would be in New York. I would be…wherever I was.
But not with him.
And so the questions remained—though neither of us said them aloud as we clung to each other, hidden in the forest.
How could something so wrong feel so utterly right?
How could the universe be so cruel as to keep us apart?
We walked back slowly, hand in hand through the trees, then dropping them eventually as we came into sight of the house.
“I think we’re going to go home tonight,” I said quietly. “I—it’s for the best.”
Matthew looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t. He knew I was right. There were arrangements to be made. He needed to do his work. I needed to figure things out.
The house loomed before us, the driveway containing a few more cars than when we left. Yes, it was definitely time to leave.
I opened my mouth to say as much, but before I could, something else caught my eye. Something absolutely catastrophic.
“What is it, doll?” Matthew asked. “Nina, what’s wrong?”
I turned away, closed my eyes, and took a moment to smooth on the implacable mask I had been trained to wear since birth. Then I turned back and fixed my expression to a hard scowl. Matthew looked startled.
“What the hell?” he murmured.
I continued to scowl, not even worrying about the frown lines undoubtedly appearing because of it.
“I’m sorry,” I said, between my teeth as if I were completely angry. “I’m not upset with you. But my husband just pulled up, and if I don’t look angry to see you…well, it’s going to be…”
“Nina?”
Matthew’s green eyes flew wide open with sudden comprehension. “Shit.”
He shoved his hat back on, effectively shading his expression until he was able to control it. Then we both turned around to face my husband.
Calvin stood in the driveway, looking sweaty and rumpled from what must have been a long drive here from Manhattan. He had emerged from one of several cars we paid a fortune to store but hardly used.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Calvin demanded. He slammed the Mercedes door shut and strode across the driveway, kicking up bits of gravel as he went.
“That’s exactly what I was asking Mr. Zola,” I said with as much disdain as I could muster. “I just finished a ride to discover that he was here. Snooping around