The Last Train to Sin 3

💦Burned by Etna’s Fire💦

I froze with the phone still in my hand. Matteo’s body went stiff behind me, his arm tightening around my waist.

"Who the fuck is that?" he asked, voice low and sharp.

I sighed and set the phone face down. "My ex. Marco. He left me two years ago for some tourist. Now he’s suddenly back in Palermo and wants to talk."

Matteo sat up, running a hand through his messy hair. "And you’re going to answer him? After what we just did?"

"I didn’t say that." I turned to face him, pulling the sheet over my chest. "Why are you mad? We met on a train four hours ago."

"Because it feels like more than four hours." He stood up, still naked, and paced to the window. "I haven’t let anyone this close in three years. And now your ex texts while my come is still inside you?"

I got out of bed and walked over to him. "Hey. Look at me." I touched his arm. "I’m not running back to him. He’s old news. But seeing his name… it brought up old shit."

Matteo turned, green eyes searching mine. "What kind of shit?"

"That I wasn’t enough for him. That maybe I’m not enough for anyone." My voice cracked a little. "Then you touched me on that train and made me feel wanted again."

He pulled me against his chest, arms wrapping tight. "You are enough, Elena. The way you rode me? The way you came so hard? That wasn’t just sex. I felt it."

I looked up at him. "Then show me again. Make me forget his name."

Matteo kissed me roughly, backing me against the wall. "You want that?"

"Yes. Right now."

He lifted one of my legs around his hip and pushed back inside me in one smooth thrust. We both groaned. He fucked me standing up, deep and steady, while rain still pattered against the windows.

"Feel me," he growled against my neck. "This is what you need. Not him."

"Harder, Matteo. Remind me." I dug my nails into his shoulders as he slammed in deeper. The wet slap of our bodies mixed with our heavy breathing.

"You’re mine tonight," he said between thrusts. "Say it."

"I’m yours tonight." I moaned louder as he hit that perfect spot. "Fuck, you’re so deep."

He carried me back to the bed without pulling out, laying me down and pounding harder. We didn’t speak for a while, just skin on skin, moans, and the sound of the storm.

After we both came again, sweaty and breathing hard, he kissed my forehead. "Stay the weekend. Let me show you my vineyards tomorrow. No exes. Just us."

I smiled against his chest. "Okay. Just us."

The next morning we drove up the slopes of Mount Etna. The air smelled like wet earth and grapes. Matteo’s hand stayed on my thigh the whole drive, occasionally sliding higher under my sundress.

"You’re quiet," he said. "Thinking about that text?"

"A little. But mostly thinking about how crazy this is. I don’t do this. Random train stranger to weekend lover."

He laughed softly. "Neither do I. But I’m not complaining."

We reached the family vineyard just as the sun broke through the clouds. Rows of dark vines stretched across the volcanic soil, Etna smoking gently in the distance.

Matteo parked and led me between the vines. "This is where we grow Nero d’Avola. My wife and I planted some of these together."

I squeezed his hand. "Does it still hurt to come here?"

"Every time. But today it hurts less." He stopped and turned to me. "Elena, I don’t want this to end when you go back to Palermo."

Before I could answer, my phone rang. Marco’s name flashed on the screen.

Matteo saw it. "Answer it. Tell him the truth."

I picked up. "Marco? I got your messages."

Matteo’s jaw tightened. He stepped closer, hands sliding up my thighs under the dress.

"Hey Elena," Marco said on the line. "I’ve been thinking about us. I made a mistake. Can we meet?"

Matteo dropped to his knees in front of me, pushing my dress up. I gasped as his tongue licked along my pussy.

"I… I don’t think so," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I’ve moved on."

Matteo sucked my clit hard. My free hand grabbed his hair.

"You sound strange," Marco said. "You okay?"

"Yes... fuck... I’m fine." I bit my lip as Matteo pushed two fingers inside me while still licking. "I’m with someone now. Don’t call again."

I hung up and dropped the phone. "You bastard," I moaned, grinding against his face. "Right here in the vines?"

He stood up, turned me around, and bent me over a thick wooden post. "Yes. Right here." He shoved my dress up to my waist and thrust into me from behind.

"Oh God," I cried out. "You’re so hard."

"Because hearing you tell him no made me crazy." He fucked me deep and fast, one hand reaching around to rub my clit. "You’re mine now. Say it louder."

"I’m yours, Matteo!" I pushed back against every thrust. "Don’t stop. Fuck me harder."

The vines shook around us. Birds flew away at the sound of our moans. He pounded into me, gripping my hips tight.

"I’m falling for you already," he confessed between strokes. "Tell me you feel it too."

"I feel it," I gasped. "I feel everything. I’m close— don’t pull out."

He slammed deeper, rubbing my clit faster. I came hard, legs shaking, screaming his name across the vineyard. He followed right after, groaning as he filled me again.

We stayed connected, breathing together as the wind moved through the leaves.

Matteo kissed my shoulder. "Stay with me, Elena. Not just the weekend. Give this a real chance."

I turned in his arms and kissed him softly. "I want that. I really do."

As we drove back down the mountain later that evening, my phone buzzed again. This time it wasn’t Marco.

It was my boss from the museum.

*Elena, emergency board meeting Monday. They’re offering you the head curator position in Rome. We need your answer by tomorrow.*

I stared at the screen, heart sinking. Matteo glanced over, noticing my face.

"Everything okay?" he asked, squeezing my thigh.

I slipped the phone away. "Yeah, just work stuff."

But inside, my stomach twisted. Rome meant leaving Sicily, leaving him. After everything we’d shared in less than twenty-four hours, how was I supposed to choose?

Matteo smiled at me, completely unaware, as Etna loomed behind us in the rearview mirror.