Page 74 of Ice To Meet You

With a groan, He slowly moved, pushing into me, watching my face. “Is this okay?” he asked. I shook my head, and his face clouded.

“It’s not enough,” I whispered, a smile woven into my words.

He furrowed his brow, bracing over me on one muscular arm.

“I need you deeper.” I said, pulling him into me.

At my request, he pushed harder, taking my breath away. He ran his eyes over my face. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” I whispered, meeting his lips with mine.

He growled and thrust again.

“Harder,” I said against his mouth.

He hesitated, but again, I pulled him in. “Do it.”

I dug my nails into his skin, and his eyes darkened before he drove into me over and over, always careful to keep his hand over my burn, protecting my skin.

His ragged breath filled my ear, heating the skin at my neck, and I let my head fall back as I savoured the waves of pressure pulsing through my body. I’d never experienced the hard push and pull of desire that Matteo gave me. Or the need that coursed through my every fibre—my every nerve.

In that moment, he was the centre of my world. His body was all I wanted. His care was all I could ask for.

“Dio,” Matteo growled beside my ear, his body tensing against me.

That one word was all it took for me to let go with him. To indulge in his body—in mine.

“Si,” I whispered, my breath hard, coming in quick bursts.

When I spoke, his eyes flickered open, their fire igniting something deep within me. And in that raw, electric moment, everything else faded away.

Matteo found my hand, threading his fingers through mine. Then, with our chests pressed together and hearts racing, we tumbled into the moment, tangled in each other, not caring who or where we were.

24

MATTEO

Four hours—and countless 'gifts from God,' as Esmé liked to call them—later, she stretched out with a yawn.

After our impromptu window peep show, I’d picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. We’d taken the opportunity to get to know each other on an entirely new level, and right now we lay wrapped around each other in her bed.

We’d talked, and laughed, but mostly, we explored each other. There wasn’t much we didn't know about each other’s bodies now.

I feathered my fingers over her ribs with a smile. I’d never been with a woman like her. One minute she was gentle and quiet, the next wild and free. And I made it my night’s work to please her. To satisfy her.

She told me about her ex-partner. Esmé described him as a selfish lover—strictly a “bare minimum” man. I was determined to give her the absolute opposite.

The pale light from the streetlight made it through her tiny window, bathing her face in its silvery glow. Her lips drew together as she stared into the distance. Her skin looked muted,soft and smooth, like she was a statue. I leaned in to kiss her shoulder. “What are you thinking?”

She huffed a little breath, and her lips curved. “You mean besides whether I’ll be able to walk in the morning?”

I grinned. If I had anything to do with it, we’d be locked away in her bed forever.

She shifted in my arms. “I was wondering what you meant last week.”

I raised a brow. “When?”

We’d talked so much and now, played so hard, that all my memories of time with Esmé blurred into one beautiful mess of heat and togetherness.

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