Page 58 of My Italian Love Affair

His thumb swipes over my throbbing clit in a firm yet teasing stroke. My hips buck upwards at the sudden sensation before he returns, dragging it over my sensitive nub in a slow, purposeful roll.

It’s enough to have me groaning in pleasure before he finally pinches it between two fingers, and my knees tremble as heat pulses through my body.

He presses me firmly against the wall as he works over my sensitive, swollen clit with his fingers until all I can do is babble his name, begging and pleading for more. His thick fingers are now soaking wet as they slide down to my core, and I whimper in pleasure when he finally cups my pussy in the molten palm of his hand.

So wet for me, Daphne.

So ready.

I imagine how blissful it would be to feel the sting of myself stretching around his fingers as he pushes them inside, fucking me as deep and as hard as he can.

My hips raise up and down from my mattress as I thrust my own fingers in and out of my drenched pussy in a sick, fucked-up parody of what I so desperately want him to do with his cock.

I need it so badly - needhimso badly - and the desperate want is so overwhelming that it has me seeing stars as I squeeze my eyes tightly to a close.

He’sbig. I just know it. Can tell by his cocky demeanor, by his casual, confident swagger and arrogant smirk.

There’s an ache inside me that can only be quenched by the deep, brutal way he’d fill me up, and I imagine now that it’s his cock stretching me out wide as opposed to his fingers, picturing him gripping tightly to my hips as he makes surethat I takeevery. single. inch.

My spare hand grips tightly around the bedsheets as my fingers slide out of my dripping pussy and slide back up to my clit once more, moving over it at a relentless pace.

I imagine him pounding into me, fucking me hard and filling me to the hilt as I run tight, hot circles over my pulsating bundle; and as blinding heat floods through my body from head to toe when I pinch my clit between my forefinger and middle finger, one word escapes my lips in a desperate pant.

“Matteo.”

My eyes practically fly open wide and an uncontrollable shriek falls from my mouth as I finally cum,hard.

A slow, shuddering breath leaves my lips as warmth licks through my entire body, pleasure rolling over me in waves.

My chest rises and falls rapidly, my skin flushed and my pulse thrumming beneath the surface.

It takes a good thirty seconds before the ringing in my ears begins to fade and I become aware of my own heavy breathing filling the quiet of my bedroom.

Another minute passes as I stare up at the ceiling. My body sinks into the mattress, still tingling with the remnants of release.

My limbs feel loose, my mind momentarily hazy; but then clarity slams into me all at once.

Fuck.

What the hell am I doing?!

Heat floods my cheeks, mortification creeping in fast.

I squeeze my eyes shut, rolling onto my side and yanking the blankets up over me as if I can somehow hide from myself.

As if I can erase the last ten minutes and pretend that I wasn’t just lying here, touching myself, thinking about the one man I know I shouldn’t be thinking about - especially not likethat.

And yet even as exhaustion tugs at me, even as sleep starts to creep in at the edges of my consciousness, one infuriating thought refuses to let me go.

I don’t even like Matteo Rossi.

So why the hell can’t I stop thinking about him?

Chapter Eighteen

Daphne

By the time I make it to the office the next morning, I’m running on nothing but caffeine and sheer determination.

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