Chapter Forty-Four
Matteo
I fucking inhale her. My head is spinning. I am drunk from the scent of her, from the feel of her soft skin under my fingers, from the quiet moans escaping her parted lips.
My heart is beating like a drum in my chest, but the cadence is steady and sure. Because she’s here. And she loves me .
Watching her unconscious in the clinic had been hell, feeling powerless to make her get better has been torture.
I’ve only left her side to take care of Rourke then shower and change.
Then I raced back to her room, leaving D and Luc to handle the outcome of the investigation.
I managed to convince the asshole doc to discharge her the next day, with the promise to call if she felt the slightest discomfort.
And now she’s here, wearing my ring, watching me with her violet gaze under hooded lids.
“ Mi amore .” My voice is hoarse against her skin as she is lying on the couch under me. I trail my hands over her waist and hike the shirt—my shirt—up to glide them to her chest. Her tits fit perfectly in my hands. Her skin is soft and warm under my palms.
I take her mouth in a possessive kiss, trembling from the strain of holding back.
Her mouth opens for me and I slide my tongue in, needing to taste her, to feel her.
She returns the kiss and I groan from the sensation of her tongue stroking mine.
I am rock hard, I have been the moment I held her against me in the shower.
But I can’t let go, I can’t hurt her. Even if it kills me.
“Matteo.” Erin cups my face and pulls back a fraction to look into my eyes. “You’re holding back.”
I exhale. “ Amore , you’re hurt, we should wait until you’re feeling better.”
She scowls up at me. “I am feeling better. And I need you.” She senses my hesitation and a slow playful smile tugs at her lips. “I can”—she whispers against my mouth—“beg on my knees, if that’s what it takes.”
Goddammit, I’m going to come in my pants and embarrass myself right here.
“Later,” I manage to rasp out and I crush my mouth on hers. She moans and my resolve fucking snaps.
I grab the lapels of her shirt and rip it open, sending buttons flying everywhere. I feel her laugh against my lips. That minx, she knows exactly what she is doing. She fucking owns me and she knows it.
I break the kiss to trail my tongue down to her throat. I weave my fingers into her hair and softly tug her head backward, giving me better access to her pulse point. I suck and lick on the soft skin until she writhes under me, begging me for more. And I am happy to oblige.
I move lower down her body and skid off the sectional couch to kneel on the plush rug. Then I slide her down the cushion so that her ass is on the edge of the chaise and bury my face between her thighs.
Fuck, she’s aroused, and her scent drives me wild. I lick her lace panties and nuzzle her cleft through the fabric. I need to taste her, now.
In one swift motion, I remove her panties and throw her legs over my shoulders. Then I feast on her, relishing the taste of her arousal, reveling in the sound of her soft moans.
I lick at her core and let my tongue slowly write I love you again and again over her clit. Her moans become husky cries and I smile against her.
Mmmh, my little ghost loves the letter O.
I file this information away for later.
“Oh God, more…please, Matteo…” Her cries are music to my ears and I pick up speed, flattening my tongue to drag it over her slit from bottom to top. Then I insert two fingers into her sopping wet core, curling them slightly to push at the soft spot within her.
This is bliss. I’ve died and I’m in heaven .
Her hands are now gripping my hair, pulling me harder against her.
All coherent thoughts fly out of the window when I sense her starting to tremble under me. I wrap my lips around her clit and suck. She shatters under me with a loud cry and I lap up every drop of her release until her moans turn to whimpers and she hoarsely begs me to stop.
I move back up to her, propping my weight on my forearms to look into her face. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips are parted and the sight makes my pulse thump in my ears. I brush a soft kiss against her lips and her eyes fly open, locking with mine.
Then a sassy smile slowly curves up her lips and she cups my face. “I love you, too.”
A sharp laugh bursts out of me, low and rough, and I press my forehead to hers.
She is perfection. And she has no idea of what I feel for her.
Love doesn’t even cover it, not by far. But I have no words to make her understand.
Instead of words, I gently kiss her nose and hoist myself up to stand.
Then I pick her up in my arms and carry her to our room despite her protests.
“Matteo, I can walk.”
I look down at her with faked sternness. “If you can still walk, then I didn’t do my job right. And I don’t take failure well, little ghost.”
She snickers but lets me lay her on the bed, eyes twinkling.
Then her face turns serious when I stand up and pull the T-shirt over my head.
She is clearly enjoying the show and I bask in her attention.
Her breath hitches when I stand shirtless, keeping my eyes on her.
Then her tongue darts out to wet her lips when her gaze follows my hands as I pop open the button of my jeans.
I am painfully hard. Her gaze sears over my skin like a torch.
This is a new kind of torture and I relish every fucking second.
When I am standing naked before her, her chest is heaving and her eyes are hooded and glazed over with lust. She starts to sit up but I am on her in a stride.
“Let me, amore ,” I murmur against her lips and she leans back again, giving me the most precious of gifts—her trust.
* * * *
Later, much later, when the sky has turned into darkness and the city lights cast a soft glow below our windows, I lie with her nestled with her back against me, my body spooning her as if to shield her from the world.
I inhale the scent of her hair, contented to feel her hand laying on mine as I cradle her hip.
She brushes her thumb absentmindedly back and forth over my hand.
I kiss her temple, weighing the words that have been circling in my head.
“ Amore …”
“Mmmh?” comes her dopey reply.
“That signal alert you set on the ID vault.” I feel her alertness return but she remains quiet. “When did you set it up?”
She stays silent for a beat then she turns to face me. “The day agent Rourke asked me to spy on you.”
My breath whooshes out of my lungs. “That was weeks ago…” I swallow hard, the meaning of it crashing into me, metaphorically bringing me to my knees.
Her eyes are locked on mine and she nibbles on her lower lip.
I raise my hand and drag my knuckles over her cheek. “You…chose me as the recipient even then? Me?”
She nods slowly and my heart stops. She chose me. Not Lily, not Chiara, not Luc or fucking traitor Dave. Me .
“I wanted you to know in case my identity got compromised and I got arrested. Despite…” Her voice trails off.
“Despite thinking that I might be involved in the trafficking ring.”
She nods slowly.
“Why?” I demand, needing to hear the words.
“Because deep down I trusted you, even then.”
I let out a shuddering breath and bury my face in her neck. “Goddammit, amore . You fucking undo me.”