Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Perfect. Hopefully they’ll make my outfit feel less unfinished.
I stand too quickly and stumble into someone. A hand steadies my elbow, and although that shouldn’t be enough to identify the person assisting me in staying upright, there’s no mistaking the zap darting up my arm.
Matteo.
He stands so close that his aftershave infuses with my perfume and each breath batters my nape. I pivot to face him, my footing unbalanced. Partway around, my pulse kicks up a notch. Matteo is wearing the full ensemble of a gala attendee: a bow tie, a crisp dress shirt, onyx cufflinks that catch the light, and a tuxedo that showcases his physique in panty-wetting detail. He is devastatingly gorgeous, and I can’t help but drool.
My knees touch when his hooded eyes sweep my body. The skirt of my not-quite-ball-gown dress is risqué, and the neckline is daring, so I feel strangely out of place now that I’m standing across from a man who exudes sex and power as much as he does danger and control.
Needing tonight to go off without a hitch, I ask, “Am I underdressed?”
Matteo considers my question for a moment, lips pursed, before he shakes his head.
My relief is brief and fragile.
“But something’s missing.”
With more attitude than I usually hold, I dangle the earrings I recently fetched from my bag.
He inches closer, his movements slow and deliberate. His gaze softens, but not to make me feel small—rather, to make me feel seen.
“That isn’t it,” he says. “It’s not a possession you’re missing.”
“Then what?” I ask, desperate.
My eyes fall to his mouth, and I stare at his full lips surrounded by dark stubble as he murmurs, “This…”
I choke on my breath when he kisses me.
The moment his lips touch mine, the tension from the past eight hours dissipates, but I’m still angry, so I pull back—reluctantly.
What the hell is wrong with you? He treated you like a whore, then left you unsatisfied! You should be glad to reject his kiss.
I fold my arms across my chest to hide how hard it’s thrusting. “I’m not going to get on my knees and—”
He clutches my waist and pulls me into him, grunting when the intimate parts of our bodies collide. “Shut up and kiss me back, micina.”
The invasion of his tongue in my mouth is so sudden that before I can caution my heart to slow down, my hands shoot up to thread my fingers through his dark mane.
“I’m still angry at you,” I murmur through a blur of lashes, playful nips, and inappropriate moans. “You should be grateful I’m not biting your tongue off.” His groan rattles my core. “You’re so fucked in the head.”
“So fucked,” he agrees.
He moves his tongue over the roof of my mouth, unconcerned about my threat.
Hours of bottled-up frustration and desperation fuel our kiss. We maul each other for several long minutes. His tongue scorches every inch of my mouth until the tingles between my legs become too much to bear.
I stumble backward until the mirrored wall is at my back, and every magnificent inch of Matteo heats my front. While matching the strokes of his tongue, I grind down, rubbing myself along his girthy cock.
I’m not leaving anything to chance this time.
If I have to ride his cock through his trousers, I’ll do that.
That’s how badly I need this climax.
With his mouth still on mine, Matteo slips his hand between our bodies. He brushes my clit with his fingertips, and a shiver runs through me.
“Still angry?” he asks, his words breathless.
“Yes.” I grind down on his hand, moaning into his mouth as the tension reaches an excruciating level. “It’ll take more than a PG-13 grind-up for me to forgive you.”
I sense his smile more than I see it. “Challenge accepted.”
The coils are already so tight they’re moments from snapping. Then Matteo pulls his mouth away from mine and falls to his knees.
The thought of his mouth touching me there makes my heart pound uncontrollably. I play it cool, though. Barely.
Panting, he drinks in my drenched panties before his eyes rise to mine. He watches the trail of heat creeping up my neck and spreading across my cheeks as he brushes his fingers over my slit. I’m so wet my panties cling to the lines of my pussy, and the heady scent of lust infiltrates the air.
“Has anyone ever kissed you here, micina?”
Refusing to be seen as vulnerable by this man, I nod.
He knows I’m lying, but it pleases him more than it annoys him.
His ego must feed on lies.
“I’ll make you come no matter your answer. I just want to know whether you need me to step you through it or if you’d rather go in blind.”
Lust swirls in my head when he peels the damp material off my body before he slowly guides my panties down my trembling thighs. He pockets them before he tilts in so close that the heat of his breath on my pussy steals my smarts.