confession, I want her to.
I don’t know what that means for us. I don’t know what that means for her father or what it means in my war with Salvatore. All I know is that right now, my wife just passed a test. A test I didn't even know I was giving.
I need her.
I need her like I need air to breathe. I need to feel her warmth, be inside her. I need to ingrain myself in her until I don't know where she ends, and I begin.
Tomorrow, the future will probably look different.
Tomorrow, we will both have to deal with the consequences of our actions.
But tonight, I’ll have my wife.
22
Viviana
* * *
“Here, or in the bedroom?” he asks. “Pick fast, or I’ll pick for you.” The way he speaks is husky. Desire laced in each word.
But the look in his eyes has me coming undone.
I thought when I told him the truth that he would throw me out, but this . . .
He looks at me like I have given him the most precious gift. He looks at me like I’m everything, like he needs to consume me.
It’s primal, and it ignites an ember inside me, making me want to allow him to.
With need coursing through my body, I answer his question by reaching out my arms and pulling him toward me again.
“Here,” I say against his lips.
“Good, because I can’t wait another second to be inside you.” He then shuts me up by placing his mouth on mine and kissing me again. With each swipe of the tongue, the kiss becomes more heated.
“Right here. Right now,” he says. “Undress,” he demands, and I follow his order.
Looking at Matteo right now is like looking at the dark king in all the fables. He’s filled with evil but passion too.
I stand from the couch and lift my shirt off, and then start to remove my pants. The whole time I undress, he watches me. Trailing his gaze over my now exposed skin.
No one has ever looked at me like this before.
Now fully naked, standing before him, the hunger in the air is palpable. His eyes are dark and ominous in the soft candlelight of the living room.
I watch through hooded lids as he strips out of his own clothes. Even though I saw him in the shower the other day, this is different. Seeing him naked has my mouth opening, and my tongue going dry.
He’s beautiful.
Devastatingly beautiful.
He’s cut from marble. Ripped and chiseled to perfection.
He is everything and more. A perfect specimen of a man.
He’s a Titan.
“On the couch, Princess,” he orders.
I don’t hesitate to lie on the couch, waiting as he moves closer to me.
A predator stalking his prey. A lion about to pounce.
As he descends on me, he takes himself in his hand, stroking himself.
“Do you have a condom?” I croak.
His eyes narrow. “You are my wife. I’m not wearing a condom.” The gravelly way he says wife has my insides melting. He crawls up over my body, his free hand pushing my thighs apart.
Then I feel him rub himself against me.
He’s teasing me.
Toying with me.
He’s attempting to drive me insane, and it works. He is.
I thrust my hips up. Trying desperately to put myself out of my misery and get him inside me, already.
With one hard thrust, he gives me what I want. He pushes all the way inside me until he has completely bottomed out.
His grip on my body tightens.
Neither of us moves for a beat.
He allows me to adjust to his size, and when I lean up and kiss his lips, he retracts.
I miss him instantly, kissing him harder, digging my nails into his back to tell him what I want.
He chuckles against my lips, but he gives me what I need. Pushing back until he’s fully engulfed again.
He keeps up a slow and steady tempo.
Pulling out and then pushing back in.
His strokes are leisurely.
Each one sending more and more pleasure rippling through my body.
It feels too good.
Intense.
A sensation starts to take root inside me. It’s almost there. Close, but not close enough. It’s like it’s hovering above me, and I can’t reach it.
“Harder,” I plead. “Faster.”
Again, he chuckles but regardless of the humor he finds, he listens and gives in to me.
His slow movements become harder. Until he is fucking me with quick, deep thrusts.
This feeling is beyond anything I have felt before.
We claw at each other.
Both desperate to make the climb.
Our kissing becomes more frenzied, his movements erratic. My nails scrape down his