Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
He grasped my jaw and turned my head to face him. “It’s called a cock.”
I blinked as I clamped my teeth together.
His fingertips pressed into the soft flesh of my cheeks. “Say it. Cock.”
I breathed through my nose. “No. It’s not ladylike,” I replied, keeping my jaw clenched.
“Says the lady who’s repeatedly propositioned me to fuck her ass.”
Repeatedly?
God, I really hated my sister sometimes.
Like now. Now was a really good time to hate her for this mess she shoved me in.
He raised his eyebrow again. “I’m waiting.”
Shifting my gaze to the ceiling, I bit off, “Cock.”
“Brava ragazza. Now, take a bite before it gets too cold.”
“I told you, I’m not hungry.”
He released my jaw and leaned back against the counter across from me. Staring straight at me, he sank his sharp, white teeth into the whipped ricotta crostini. His eyes closed, and he gave a moan while he chewed.
With my hands balled inside of the blanket, I wrapped my arms tightly around my middle to keep my stomach from growling.
He moaned again. “This is so good. Are you sure you don’t want a bite?”
The second half of the crostini was held up to my mouth again. Drips of honey threatened to fall off the sides, making me want to flick them with the tip of my tongue.
Distracted by the simple, yet decadent, treat taunting me, I didn’t notice at first when Matteo slipped his hips between my knees as he moved closer. “Come on, baby. Take just a small bite. For me.”
He brushed the toasted crust of the crostini, with its drips of honey, against my lower lip.
The tip of my tongue swept out to taste the golden sweetness. With my guard down, my stomach rumbled when I forgot to continue to clench my abdominal muscles.
“That’s it, little one. Just open your lips and let me slip it inside.”
My gaze clashed with his at his erotic double entendre.
Mesmerized by his dark gaze and the allure of the crostini, my mouth opened, allowing him to push the final bite inside.
Like him, I closed my eyes and groaned as my teeth crunched down on the crostini, releasing the earthy flavor of the olive oil just as the whipped ricotta melted onto my tongue. Complimenting the rich creaminess was the burst of sweetness with a touch of floral from the honey.
My eyes still closed, the rough edge of another crostini brushed my lower lip.
“Open,” he commanded.
I obeyed.
This time cutting the crunchy yet chewy crostini in half with my front teeth. As I chewed, I opened my eyes in time to see him place the rest of the bite into his mouth.
Outside of sex, I couldn’t imagine there was anything more intimate than sharing food.
The corner of my lips tickled as a drizzle of honey escaped my mouth. Before I could flick my tongue out to capture it, Matteo brushed the pad of his thumb over the droplet. He then pushed his thumb inside my mouth.
An instant connection to him doing the same motion earlier, as he made sure I swallowed every drop of his come, made me lightheaded. In my mind, I tried to blame my exhaustion and hunger, but knew it was a lie.
Rattled, I reached for my own slice of crostini and spooned some ricotta on it before shuffling my hips a little further down the kitchen island.
Matteo followed me with the jar of honey.
Reluctantly, I held it out as he spooled a thick drizzle onto my slice.
As he did so, he said, “I know your secret.”
My world tilted off its axis.
Afraid my now shaking hand would drop it, and needing time to think before I responded, I shoved the whole crostini into my mouth. Forcing myself not to groan as the sweet creaminess hit my tongue.
He knew my secret?
He knew I was Ella and not his intended fiancée, Antonia?
How much did he know?
When had he figured it out?
Matteo chuckled. “Careful, little one. Dirty talk in the bedroom is fine, but I don’t truly want you to choke.”
With wide eyes, I nodded as I struggled to chew. My fingers gripped the edge of the island. When I had finally swallowed, I rasped, “I can explain.”
No, I couldn’t!
I couldn’t come remotely close to explaining any of this madness.
Where would I even start?
What if I confessed to being the one on the boat with him that time, when he assumed I was Antonia?
What would I say if he asked where Antonia was?
Or why I was taking her place?
Or worse, why I let him practically fuck me, more than once, when I knew he was promised to my sister.
Sciatiri e matri!
Was he going to kill me now for trying to trick him?
I was all alone in an empty villa with Matteo Cavalieri in the middle of Abruzzo. Helpless.
My head swam as a fevered lightheadedness once again took over.