Chapter 21

He waves the brochure away and reaches up to cup my face again, running his thumb over my cheek and making goosebumps rise all over me despite the warm temperature. Without making the conscious decision to do so, I lean into his touch and let out a soft moan. I shoot him a worried look, hoping he doesn’t think I’m some kind of pervy nut, but he looks pleased by my reaction.

“Matteo,” he says, pointing at his chest, and when I repeat his name, he smiles at the sound of it on my lips.

“Nora,” I say, pointing at myself. He repeats it, rolling the r and making my name sound sexier than I ever thought it could.

Giving me a wink, he stands and slowly takes his hand away before shutting my door and walking around to the driver’s side. The car is sexy as fuck, and watching him drive this sleek, powerful machine has me so wet I can barely stand it. He weaves us through the narrow, winding streets like a pro, constantly shifting gears as he speeds up or slows down to maneuver the old roads.

By the time we pull into a very large villa with a guarded gate, I’m so aroused I can barely think. We’re immediately waved through, and I feel like I’ve just stepped into one of the mafia movies my mom was so obsessed with when I was young. It makes me remember all the Italian men in those movies and how they all seemed to have mistresses, and a horrible idea starts to dawn on me. I turn in my seat so I’m facing him, and as soon as he parks the car in a garage that’s bigger than any apartment I’ll ever be able to afford, I reach for his left hand and look. I hadn’t noticed a wedding ring earlier, but I hadn’t exactly been thinking about it either. I’d been way too busy drooling over him and fantasizing about him fucking me.

He watches me with a curious, amused look on his face. I hold up his hand and point to the ring finger, thrilled that it’s not sporting a gold band but also knowing that doesn’t really mean jack shit.

“Married?” I ask. “Wife? Family?”

He laughs and shakes his head no, and then points at me and, I’m assuming, asks me the same questions in Italian. He runs his fingers over my bare ring finger, and I feel that caress deep inside me, and it makes me hungry for so much more. I quickly shake my head no, letting him know I’m most definitely available. Without another word, he gets out of the car and walks around to my side. He opens the door and reaches down to pick me up again. I don’t fight him. Why the hell would I? Instead, I cuddle up against him and smile at how comforting his scent has already become to me.

We walk into the gorgeous mansion that must be his home. I look around as he carries me through a huge living room and into the most gorgeous kitchen I’ve ever seen with a wall of windows overlooking the sea.

“Wow,” I say, making him smile as he follows my gaze. “Bella,” I say, pleased I at least remember the word for beautiful.

“Sì, bella,” he says, but he’s not looking out the window when he says it. He’s looking straight at me. I feel myself blush at his praise which only makes him smile bigger. He sets me on the counter and holds up a finger to let me know I should stay put. My ankle is still throbbing, but even if I had two working feet, there’s no way in hell I’d be getting down from this counter.

When he comes back, he’s carrying a small first-aid kit and some kind of bandage wrap and an ice pack. I smile at him, touched that he went through all that trouble for me. He talks to me in Italian while he undoes the straps on my wedge sandals, making it seem like he’s slowly undressing me instead of just taking off my shoe. He undoes the other one and sets my shoes aside before gently grabbing onto my sore ankle.

Keeping his eyes on me, he carefully moves my ankle, and when I wince, he leans down and kisses the top of my foot, making me let out a small moan that has nothing at all to do with pain. He smiles at me and moves my foot in the other direction to make sure nothing is broken. When he’s satisfied, he grabs the bandage and wraps my ankle and foot up tightly.

I smile when it instantly feels better and tell him “Grazie.”

My attempt at Italian earns me a sexy wink that has me so wet I’m worried I might leave a puddle on his nice granite countertop. Opening the first-aid kit, he gets some cotton balls and a tube of medicine and sets about cleaning me up. His strong hands are surprisingly gentle as he cleans my sore knees, stopping to blow on my skin when I let out a soft gasp when it stings.

Noticing the goosebumps his breath is causing, he looks up at me and runs his finger over my skin, making my breath hitch and my heart feel like it’s going to beat right out of my chest. He murmurs something in Italian and leans down to kiss my inner thigh before sitting back and bandaging my knee. After he’s done the same to my other knee, he rests my wrapped foot on top of his counter and sets the ice pack on it. His eyes run over my bent leg and the way it’s hiking my short sundress up. I know he’s seeing up my leg, and when I slide my dress up even further, showing him the wet panties that are glued to my smooth pussy lips, he groans and turns his green eyes up to mine.

The heat and desire in them are enough to have me rocking my hips against his counter, desperate for the feel of something hard against my poor aching pussy. I know this is completely inappropriate and that I can’t even understand the guy, but I can’t help it. My body just reacts to him, and there’s no stopping it.

The sexy sound of Italian coming out of his gorgeous mouth isn’t doing anything to calm me down. He keeps his eyes on me and slides his hands up my inner thighs, stepping closer so our bodies our almost pressed together. Gripping my hips, he runs his thumbs over my panty-covered pussy, making me moan and rock my hips up to him.

He gives me a wicked grin and brings his lips to mine. I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer as I open my mouth to him, moaning when he slides his tongue along mine and presses his thumb hard enough against my slit to press my panties into me, giving me a deep cameltoe and making my smooth pussy lips spill out on either side. His other thumb presses firmly against my swollen clit, making me feel like I’m going to explode any second.

He groans against my mouth when he runs his finger along my soaked pussy lips, rubbing my clit in tight, fast circles that leave me gasping for air.

“Matteo,” I whimper against his lips.

“Nora,” he moans against mine, making it sound sexy as fuck.

Just those two words are enough to connect us. Just by saying my name while he works my pussy, it’s like he knows me better than anyone else ever could. We may not be able to communicate with language, but our bodies are doing just fine at understanding one another.

I run my fingers through his thick hair, needing him closer as I feel my body start to tense. All it takes is a couple more skillful rubs of his thumb to completely undo me, and when I cum, I throw my head back and scream his name—the only word left to me, the only one that matters, and the only one I’ll ever really need.

He groans and kisses my neck, teasing me with his lips and tongue as he keeps working my pussy, making my orgasm last longer than I ever thought possible. When he starts to lower my upper body to the counter, I happily let him. I feel better than I ever have in my life. Every muscle is warm and relaxed, and I feel downright giddy.

When a happy laugh escapes, he lifts his head and gives me the sexiest smile before bringing his mouth back to the collarbone he was just licking. God, the man is good with his tongue. All the flicks and kisses and soft licks have me dying to know what that would feel like against my pussy.

He brings a hand up to cup my face as he kisses his way down my chest to the top button of my sundress. His fingers hesitate over my buttons as he arches a brow a me, waiting to see what I’ll do.

I don’t even have to think about it. With his body hovering over mine and my body still reeling from the orgasm he just gave me, it doesn’t take any effort at all for me to give him an encouraging smile and shake my head yes.