11. CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
KATIE
Can we get to the part where I climax? The buildup is killing me.
This is what my life has come to—sitting at a gorgeous Italian dinner party thinking about orgasms. Not just any orgasms. Specifically the kind I want Matteo Monti to give me. Repeatedly. In various positions. Preferably while speaking Italian.
I should be soaking up every magical detail of Enrico and Caterina’s backyard, not daydreaming about my tour guide returning and whispering naughty promises against my neck.
I force myself to pay attention, like a good event planner should. String lights crisscross overhead, creating a constellation of tiny stars. Rustic wooden tables stretch out endlessly, covered in linens so white they’re judging my impure thoughts. Weathered wine barrels serve double duty as cocktail stations, complete with mason jars filled with flickering candles.
Even the setting sun feels like foreplay, caressing the vineyard with fingers of gold that make me think of other kinds of touching. The air is thick with the aroma of enough Italian food to feed a small army. Platters of handmade pasta glisten with olive oil, and fresh herbs have been scattered on the tables like edible confetti.
The vineyard workers and seniors have merged into one big, happy, wine-soaked family—sharing stories between bites of pecorino and prosciutto. Mrs. Thomas is glowing as she chats with a volunteer from her hometown in Michigan. “Your grandmother owns Romano’s Deli? I eat there every Sunday after church!”
I wonder how these tablecloths would feel against my back if he took me right here?
Oh yeah, gone is Katie Crawford, Professional Event Planner Who Has Her Shit Together.
My brain keeps glitching to one thought:
MatteoMatteoMatteoMatteo.
And then he appears.
My muscles tighten, anticipation prickling across my skin as he approaches our table. His hair is still damp from a shower, curling at the edges in a way that makes my fingers ache to grip it. To pull it. To use it to guide his mouth to mine.
Jesus. When did I become this person?
His thigh brushes mine as he sits, and the contact makes a flush spread over my skin while my knees press together instinctively.
“Miss me, principessa?”
I dig my nails into my palms to keep from launching myself into his lap. “Like a paper cut.”
Lie.
My lady parts missed him like wine misses cheese. Like pasta misses sauce.
Minutes tick by, and the dinner conversation flows around me in Italian. I can barely pay attention as I’m consumed by every whisper of contact between our bodies. When he reaches for the wine, his forearm touches mine. My body speaks up. Everyone, stay calm. This is not a drill! Let’s not mess this up.
“English!” Caterina scolds. “Or Katie think we plot her murder, yes?”
I force a laugh, like I haven’t been plotting exactly how to get Matteo alone and naked for the past hour. “Murder really would mess up my schedule tomorrow.”
“Always so organized,” Matteo says, his breath hitting my ear.
“Katie!” Enrico’s face lights up. “Has Matteo told you about the time he steal my father’s tractor?”
“Dio mio.” Matteo drops his head into his hands. “Not this story. I was fifteen!”
“Picture this!” Enrico waves his hands. “Mr. Suave Matteo, trying to impress beautiful Valentina Bellini. He steals Papa’s tractor—”
“Borrowed,” Matteo says.
“—Steals Papa’s tractor,” Enrico continues louder, “thinking he will show off his farming skills. Instead—” He dissolves into laughter so hard he starts hiccuping. “Instead, he takes out three rows of century-old vines! Crashes into irrigation system! Creates mud geyser!”
I sneakily kick off my sandal under the tablecloth, becoming full-on seduction ninja. My toes find his ankle, and Matteo’s body stiffens. Challenge accepted.
“Everything okay?” I ask sweetly. “You seem tense.”
“Perfect,” he grits out, then turns to Enrico. “But it wasn’t like that—”
“Papa finds him,” Enrico wheezes, “covered head to toe in mud, trying to push two-ton tractor out of ditch! Looking like swamp monster!”
“That’s a very creative interpretation of events,” Matteo says with forced calm, right as my foot slides up his calf. His knee jerks so hard it rattles the wine glasses.
Caterina shuffles forward in her chair, eyes gleaming. “These stories, I never hear! Was my Enrico such troublemaker too?”
“Me?” Enrico places his hand over his heart. “I was perfect angel!”
“If Lucifer had a twin.” Matteo snorts, shifting subtly as my toes dance higher.
I take a slow sip of wine, locking eyes with him over the rim. “Let me guess—you were out there hitting on the locals with lines like, ‘Ciao bella, are you Tuscany? Because I’d like to explore your rolling hills.’”
“They worked then, and they work now,” he boasts with that smirk that does indeed make my lady parts tingle.
Time to step it up. Tonight I am not a woman with plans. I’m acting on instinct—embracing the unknown.
I let my hand wander under the tablecloth, settling firmly on Matteo’s thigh. He spits out his wine, coughing and spluttering. I trace slow, teasing circles higher up his leg, enjoying the way his breath hitches.
Oh, he’s flustered! The always-confident Matteo Monti is actually flustered—and I’m the reason. The power of it surges through me, and I press my fingers against him just a little firmer, relishing in his tension.
“The wine is excellent,” I say innocently. “So firm—I mean, full-bodied.”
Matteo’s ears turn pink. “Speaking of bodies— bottles . Good thing your parents never found out about the wine cellar incident—”
My fingers creep up Matteo’s thigh, and when his muscles twitch beneath my touch, it sends fresh heat pooling between my legs.
“Now that story I’ve heard.” Caterina pats her belly meaningfully. “Because of you two, I hope we have a girl.”
I avoid eye contact with him while I let my fingers explore the outline of his erection, and oh my God—he’s rock-hard and so massive I’m like, did he smuggle a baseball bat in there?
“So what did Matteo’s parents do?” I ask innocently. “When they caught him being such a troublemaker?”
The table goes silent. Enrico and Caterina exchange a knowing look. Something dark crosses Matteo’s face, and I feel it. I’ve stumbled into forbidden territory.
I start to lift my hand off his leg, but Matteo swiftly grabs it, secretly interlocking our fingers together.
“My parents…” Matteo’s voice carries an edge I’ve never heard before. “They knew to expect nothing but trouble from me.”
“So the bus?” Enrico shouts, cutting through the tension. “How is our smoking beauty, eh?”
“Got a rental shuttle,” Matteo says, his confident charm returning. “Mechanic thinks he can save her. Hotel worked out though—thanks to Katie’s organizational superpowers.”
My heart (and other parts) flutter at his praise. Seriously, I’m pretty sure they’re performing a fully choreographed routine down there. Never in my life has being called “organized” turned me on so much.
“If you’ll excuse us.” Matteo’s thumb strokes the pulse point on my wrist, and I want to whimper. “I promised Katie some photos before we lose the light completely.”
He stands, and the loss of his touch is agony. I want those hands back on me, pronto.
“Are you sure?” I ask, my voice breathy. “The sun’s almost set…”
“Trust me. I know how to work in low light.”
The promise in his voice makes me clench. There’s nothing professional in the way he’s looking at me now. Nothing tour guide appropriate about the hunger I see in his expression.
Please don’t let him be talking about actual photography. Please let “work in low light” be code for “push Katie into the shadows and make her forget her own damn name.”
Please, oh please, let it be code for that.
***
MATTEO
I don’t know where I’m going, only that I need to get away before I lose what control I have left.
My dick is so hard it could drill through concrete, thanks to Katie Crawford’s teasing fingers. What the fuck is she doing to me? My pulse pounds in my ears, and every step away from that table feels like a battle I’m barely winning.
I need to walk this fire off. Away from the torture of watching her lips wrap around her wine glass while pretending I wasn’t imagining those same lips wrapped around my cock.
“Matteo!” Her voice slices through the vineyard.
Don’t turn around. Don’t look at her.
“Slow down!” Katie’s sandals click against the stone path. “Where are you going?”
I round the corner of the villa where the ancient vines cling to the walls. My feet betray me, halting mid-step. I spin around so fast she crashes into my chest with a surprised gasp. The contact is brief before she stumbles back, but it’s enough to make my body roar to life.
Her scent overwhelms me—strawberries, always strawberries—wrapping around my senses like a silken noose. I drink her in: tousled hair wild from her sprint, cheeks flushed with heat, and those lips parted like she’s daring me to close the distance. Her dress dances along her thighs in the evening breeze, taunting me. Testing me.
Madonna santa, I want her. The weight of it terrifies me.
“What’s gotten into you tonight, principessa?” My voice is low, edged with frustration.
“Hopefully you.” The words slip out before her eyes go wide and she claps her hand over her mouth.
Sweet fucking torture.
“Is this about Jared?” I grind out his name.
“No.”
“Cristo, what was that back there, Katie? Another calculated move in your grand plan.” I gesture toward my cock, which strains against my zipper like it’s trying to break free and run to her. “Seduce the tour guide to get back at your ex? Because if that’s your goal— congratulazioni . You succeeded.”
She bites that full bottom lip like she always does when she’s trying to stay in control. Scopami , I want to taste it.
No. Professional distance.
“What do you want from me, Katie?”
“I want to know what it feels like!” she shouts.
“Per favore, help me understand.”
“To be wanted.” Her voice falters, but she doesn’t look away. “Really wanted. With Jared, I never… I mean, we did, but I never…” She groans, covering her face. “I’ve never had an orgasm.”
Everything inside me goes deadly still.
The confession ricochets through my skull like a bullet.
She pulls her hands away just enough for me to see the flush creeping down her neck. “God, this is so embarrassing.”
Embarrassing? My jaw tightens and hot, sharp anger floods my system.
Not at her. At him .
No pleasure? None? From a man who had the right to touch her every night for years? How dare he? How fucking dare anyone have this bellissima donna in their bed and not satisfy her? Not discover every sound, every sigh, every tremor of satisfaction she’s capable of making?
My fingers twitch at my sides.
“Never?”
“No. It was always about his needs.” She huffs out a bitter laugh. “I thought that’s just how it was. Or maybe I thought I wasn’t capable. Like maybe something was wrong with me.”
Che fanculo!
Her vulnerability undoes me. I’ve had my share of women—nameless encounters, faceless passion, morning departures. Love is a gamble I can’t afford to take. Not after losing the people I loved most.
So why does her admission feel like it’s unlocking something I’ve kept buried since childhood?
Katie fidgets with her hands before meeting my gaze. “I want to feel… desired. I want you to give me an orgasm. Please.”
My teeth grind. I bite my cheek so hard I taste blood. “Katie, you don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Yes, I do.” The pure conviction in her snaps the last thread of my control.
Because she’s not just asking for pleasure. She’s asking me to see her, to know her in a way no one else has. The thought of being the one to bring her to climax—her first time—makes my blood pound so hard I sense it behind my eyes.
Before I can stop myself, I reach for her hand. She stares up at me, pupils blown wide, and I long to kiss her. No, not kiss. Fucking consume her until she can’t escape me.
“Where are we going?” Her voice shakes.
“Wine cellar.”
“I’ve already seen—”
“Not this one.”
I drag her down the hidden path, my fingers locked around hers. Every step feels like marching to my own execution, because the second she lets me touch her, I’m done for.
The ancient cellar door shuts behind us like it’s sealing our fate. Darkness swallows us whole. I flip the switch, and the dim light reveals a private sanctuary. Rows of timeworn barrels line the walls, ready to witness whatever happens next. The air, cool and thick, is perfumed with the rich, musky scent of aged oak, sweet wine-soaked wood, and damp stone. It’s a secret place where each breath feels decadent, and every shadow invites dark deeds.
Katie lingers at the threshold, her eyes filled with a blend of vulnerability and hunger. She looks like prey about to be captured, torn between the instinct to flee and the undeniable pull to stay.
“Is this where you murder me?”
“Perhaps. It’ll be death by multiple orgasms. Are you ready to die?”
Her breath catches as I stalk toward her, giving her time to flee. She doesn’t move an inch. Just watches me with those green eyes that haunt my dreams.
A voice in my head screams to tell her to run. To find someone better, someone whole.
But I’m too far gone. Hell, it’s been like this since that first fiery glare in that hotel bar.
I stop when we’re toe to toe. My thumb traces her jaw, tilting her face up. “Last chance, principessa.”
“I trust you.”
Three simple words. A bomb ignites within me.
“Say it,” I murmur. “Admit what you want.”
She swallows hard but meets my eyes. “I want you to touch me.”
Cristo Santo.
The words hit me like a physical blow. Every woman I’ve been with played the game—made me chase, made me work. But Katie? She hands me her trust like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
It’s not. I know how much it costs her to surrender control. To let someone else take the reins.
“You’ve been thinking about this.” I brush my thumb across her bottom lip, watching her pupils dilate. “Imagining my hands on you. My mouth.”
Silence. The pink staining her cheeks tells me everything.
“Confess it—you want me to make you lose control.”
“I want it.” She’s breathless but sure.
“Ti porterò all’estasi.”
“What does that mean?”
I grip her hips, guiding her backward until she’s pressed against the barrel. “I will take you to ecstasy.”
“Matteo—”
I crash my mouth to hers before she can respond. There’s nothing gentle about this kiss—it’s all teeth and tongue and days of pent-up need. She tastes like wine and something so goddamn sweet I know I’ll chase it until there’s nothing left. Her fingers fist in my shirt, pulling me closer, and I’m lost.
I deepen the kiss, angling her head to get better access. My tongue slides past her lips, claiming every inch she offers. When I pull back to let her breathe, her lips are swollen, her eyes glazed with want.
“Have you ever been kissed like this?” I drag my mouth down her throat. “Made to tremble like this?”
“N-no.”
My pride and possessiveness surge.
I shouldn’t be this smug. I shouldn’t care this much. But I want her to leave this cellar stricken with desire—obsessing about my hands on her body and my mouth on her skin.
Sliding my palms up her thighs, I push the hem of her dress higher, higher, until I feel her shiver beneath me. My knuckles graze the damp outline of her panties, and I groan, resting my forehead against hers.
“Already so wet for me,” I whisper, my voice tight. “Aren’t you?”
Her lashes flutter as she presses her lips tight together. I nudge her with my fingers, teasing the fabric until she breaks.
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Dio mio.”
I rip my shirt off, spreading it across the barrel before lifting her onto it. Her thighs part instinctively, making room for me to step between them. The sight of her spread out for me, trusting me to give her what she needs, makes my chest ache.
“What if someone—”
“No one’s coming down here,” I counter, smirking. “Except you. And when you do, everyone up there will hear it.”
I brush my hands up the soft skin of her thighs, stopping just shy of where we both want me to go. “I wonder what kind of noises you’ll make when you come . Are you going to scream my name? Beg me for more? Or will you feverishly moan when I break you?”
“You’re so cocky. Maybe that Sadie girl is right, and you’re not as impressive as you think.”
I grin darkly, brushing my lips against hers in a teasing almost kiss. “Do you want the pleasure or not?”
Her answer comes as a shaky, breathless exhale. “Yes.”
I hold her gaze as my fingers slide beneath the waistband of her panties. “Can I slip these off, bella?”
Katie nods and bites her lip as I drag the fabric down her legs, slowly, like I’m peeling back the curtain on a masterpiece that deserves to be savored, every inch a revelation. The second she’s bare to me, I spread her thighs wider, and the air punches out of my lungs in one harsh exhale.
If this isn’t heaven, then I don’t know what is.
“Dio mio,” I rasp, my voice so raw it doesn’t sound like me. I drag my gaze over her. “Your pussy… so fucking gorgeous.”
Her blush deepens, her thighs twitching like she’s about to close them, but I grip her knees, holding her exactly where I want her. “Don’t hide from me, Katie . ”
I kiss the inside of her knee sensually—slowly—deliberately. Her breath catches, causing my mouth to trail higher, dragging my lips up her thigh. I feel her quiver.
“Wait—” she says shakily. “So this is happening? We’re… we’re having sex?”
I freeze, my lips hovering just above where she wants me. I force my grin to stay in place as I pull back enough to meet her eyes. “No, bella. Rules are rules. But as promised, I will make you feel desired.”
Her brows knit in adorable frustration. “So, what then?”
My grin turns wicked, my control slipping as I lean back in, pressing a kiss just above her core. “I’ve spent many nights imagining how you’d taste on my tongue. And now?” My fingers slide over her folds, tracing the outline of where she’s aching for me. “I will find out.”
I drop to my knees, hooking my hands under her thighs, lifting her slightly to bring her closer to my waiting lips. “Lean back, bellissima.” The command in my voice leaves no room for argument. “And hold on tight.”
She hesitates for a heartbeat… then obeys, her back hitting the makeshift blanket of my shirt as her hands grip the edges of the barrel for balance. Her trust in me feels dangerous. I shove it down and focus on the way she opens, so damn perfect.
I flatten my tongue and drag it against her clit in one slow, deliberate stroke.
Her reaction is instant—her body jolts, her thighs squeezing against my head. “Oh my God!”
“Yes, bella. Every woman carries an angel and a devil inside her,” I murmur against her heated flesh, gently kissing her clit. “Unleash the fire of your passion. Embrace every sound. Let me hear how good you feel.”
“Matteo!” Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging like she’s afraid I’ll stop.
I grin against her center, kissing her sensitive bundle of nerves. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. Not until you come screaming my name.”
I lick her slow and deliberate, before sucking her clit hard between my lips. Her hips rise to meet my mouth like she can’t help herself, and Cristo, she tastes like honey drizzled over sweet cream. With every flick of my tongue she gasps, and I relish in the way her breathing transforms into desperate whimpers.
“Matteo…” she pants. “I… I can’t. You’re too good at this.”
I glance up, locking onto her wild-eyed gaze as I slip one finger into her heat. Sweet mother of sin, the way she clenches around me makes me shudder. “Too good?” I curl my finger, enjoying her lips parting in surprise. “ Tesoro , we have only begun.”
Her moan turns into a plea as I add a second finger, building her higher. “Oh God. Oh my— Matteo, I—”
“You can handle it,” I growl, my voice rough, my other hand grabbing her hip as I keep her steady. “I know you can.”
“There!” Her back arches off the barrel. “Right there— Oh God—”
“ Si, principessa.” I growl, my lips brushing against her. “Let go for me. I want to feel you fall apart.”
She’s close—I know it. I hold her tighter as I focus on driving her higher, letting her unrestrained sounds guide me. She’s so responsive—so trusting—it’s driving me mad. I thrust my fingers faster while I suck her clit harder.
Her body tenses, her cries breaking into desperate gasps as I take her over the edge. “Yes, oh God— Yes! Matteo!”
Her thighs squeeze against the sides of my head as she shatters, her body shaking with the force of it. She repeats my name, crumbling under her release as it hits her in waves, tightening around my fingers. I don’t stop—not until her trembling slows, until her soft breathing turns to silence and she slumps back against the barrel, spent and boneless.
Her release coats my mouth and chin, and I savor one last lingering kiss to her center before sliding her panties back into place and rising to my feet. I pull her up against me, using my shirt to wipe my mouth, savoring her scent for later. She’s even more breathtaking, utterly ravished and glowing. Perfetta .
Her dazed eyes find mine, still hazy. “Wait—what about you?” She gestures weakly at the very obvious, very painful bulge in my pants.
I kiss her temple, helping her wobbling legs find solid ground. “This was about giving you what you asked for.”
I force myself to turn toward the door, to stop myself from kissing her more—to prevent me from saying how fucking gorgeous she is after coming on my tongue—to avoid breaking every rule I’ve ever made.
“Meet me on the bus.”
As I walk away, leaving her breathless in the wine cellar, one thought pounds inside me like a hammer.
I crossed a line.
I broke my most important rule—the one about keeping my heart locked away from everyone.