the remaining sleep.
Then he’s standing from the bed with his naked body on full display. I’m surprised when he doesn’t attack me.
We have spent the past three days all over each other. He must notice my confusion because he leans down and kisses my lips.
“I see that look you’re giving me, Viviana. If you don’t stop, I will take you up on your silent offer. But I imagine you’re sore, and you might need a little bit of a rest.”
I pout.
“I’m not sore.”
His hand reaches out, pulls the blanket back, and then spreads my thighs.
The cold air feels heavenly against my heated skin.
He stares at me for a minute. A war rages inside him as he looks down at where I want him to touch me.
“Viviana, what am I going to do with you?”
“Fuck me,” I say, my upper teeth biting my lower lip.
“You will be the death of me,” he says as he moves closer to the bed, fingers parting me.
I grimace at the contact, and he laughs.
“I told you.”
“I’m fine,” I say like a petulant child who thought she was getting ice cream but was just told the store was closed.
“You’re not. But I know something that will make you feel better.”
I raise my eyebrow in question, and he answers by leaning in and swiping my sensitive skin with his tongue.
Yep.
That will work just fine.
27
Viviana
* * *
The next few days pass in bliss.
We don’t do much. We take walks in the snow, cook a lot of meals, and indulge in each other’s bodies in what must be every single room in the house.
It’s been the most perfect week.
I truly never thought Matteo could be this affectionate, nor did I think he would be willing to spend so much time with me.
Unfortunately, though, our alone time has come to an end.
Lorenzo, Roberto, and a few of his other men are due back within the hour. Matteo is downstairs in the basement working out, and I’m in our room showering and getting ready for the day.
I hate that it has to end, but I know it’s necessary.
We cannot live in a bubble forever.
Regardless of how fun that bubble is.
Because bubbles, I’ve learned, are fragile, thin things. Designed to burst and explode.
As I lather my hair, the glass door swings open. I hadn’t heard him come in, but here he is, naked and stepping into the shower.
I move a step back, giving him room, and then he closes the door, encasing us in the steam.
I can feel him hardening beside me, and I have to admit I’m happy about it because when I woke up this morning, he was gone, and I miss waking up to his teasing my body.
“Did you have a good workout?” I ask him.
His eyes appear darker than normal, hungry with lust.
“You really wanna talk about my workout . . .?” he drawls.
“No, not really.”
“Then what is it you want, Viviana? You’ll have to tell me in order for me to give it to you.”
“Your mouth.”
He leans in and kisses me.
A hungry kiss that tells me he missed our morning session as much as I did.
“What else?”
“Your hands.”
He reaches out and starts to touch me. His hands wrap softly around my throat, then down the hollow of my neck, down between my breasts.
“Here?” he asks, smirk present.
I shake my head.
“Here?” His fingers trace a line around my belly button.
I shake my head again.
His hands lower, tracing across my hip bones.
He stops his movements. “Here?”
Too worked up to care, I grab him and thrust his hand between my thighs.
“There,” I scream above the water, and he laughs. A loud and boisterous one.
One that is only for my ears.
And I love it.
I love every minute of it.
After we take the longest shower in history, we both leave the bathroom dressed and completely satisfied.
He’s dressed in a more formal outfit than I’m used to. A gray sport jacket, white button-down, and slacks.
If I hadn’t just been completely wrecked by him in the shower, I would ask for round two, so instead, I cock my head. “Where’re you off to?”
“I have a meeting in Albany.”
“You’re going all the way to Albany?”
My heart starts to pound that I won’t see him for a few days. I am also concerned about what his business is about. If it has something to do with Dad.
“Just for a few hours. I’m flying up to talk to the governor about some business.”
“I’ll miss you,” I say, my voice weaker than I want it to be.
“I’ll be