Page 82 of Italy Can Bite Me

“Don’t you see? You don’t have to be quiet in here,” Matteo breathes into my ear.

The loud rock music blares. The very loud music. Music so loud that it will muffle the sounds of our passion.I glance around the changing area, my breath hitching as I take in the high walls and solid door. No gaps, no cracks, and no way for anyone to see or hear us. And finally, a light bulb. That’s why he chose here.

“Relax,” Matteo whispers, his lips dragging across my jaw as his fingers pick up the pace, circling faster, harder. “We own this moment.You’re safe with me.”

Safe? Ha.If anything, I’m in danger—of losing my mind, my self-control, and whatever shreds of dignity I have left.

“Why are you—” I gasp. His thumb brushes over a spot that has me refocusingallmy attention on him. “Why are you so good at that?”

His grin is lethal. “Practice.”

Screw it.

I grab the hem of his shirt and yank it up, dragging it over his head with more force than necessary. He smirks, the sharp edge of his teeth glinting like a warning, and my stomach flips—it’s no longer fear, just pure exhilaration from this impossibly, devastatingly sexy beast of a man.

My hands splay across his chest, sliding down over his abs—each ridge firm and flawless and completely unfair. My palms brush lower, and(oh damn)there he is. Thick and hard and straining against his pants.

“Dear Lord,” I mutter under my breath, unable to stop myself from cupping him, enjoying him twitch beneath my touch. “Do you always get this hard this fast, or am I special?”

He chuckles, his hands tightening on my hips. “You’re very special, cara.”

I’d roll my eyes at his cocky tone, but I can’t stop sliding my hand up and down, marveling at how his body is responding. The way his jaw flexes, his chest heaves, and his stare darkens tells me that my touch is the sole thing that can feed his need.

In the past, sex was… pleasant enough. Something I didn’t mind. Honestly, I got some of my best meal planning done during those scheduled sessions. But this?

This is nothing like that.

I am breathless.

Shameless.

Unhinged.

“Matteo,” I shout, my voice barely audible over the pounding rock music outside. “Are we really going to hook up in a store full of people?”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a foil packet, tearing it open with his teeth. “Does this answer your question, tesoro?” With a quick, confident motion, he pushes down his shorts, revealing his rock-hard cock(or should I say his Hard Rock cock)and then expertly rolls on the condom. His eyes never leave mine.

Damn.Well. Okay then.

For a split second, doubt creeps in.Has he done this before? Is this where he usually brings women?But then his mouth crashes onto mine, and every thought evaporates.

“I want to hear your pleasure,” Matteo says.

“Then I better fucking hear yours.”

His grip tightens, and his eyes darken. “This won’t be gentle.”

And then, in one smooth, powerful motion, he lifts me, pressing me higher against the wall, and thrusts into me… hard.

I cry out. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist as a surge of lust courses through my body.

It’s intense. Brutal and fast and unrelenting. Every drive of his hips is a lightning strike, sharp and electrifying, lighting me up from the inside out. Each thrust forcefully plunges deeper. He’s gripping my ass so tightly I love that I’ll have bruises tomorrow.

“You feel…” His voice is ragged. “Cristo, Katie. Your pussy was made for me.”

My head rolls back in bliss. “No one’s ever— Oh my God—no one’s ever made me feel like this,” I manage between his relentless movements.

Every thrust is harsh.

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