Page 83 of Italy Can Bite Me

Unforgiving.

Divine.

“Yes, Matteo yes! Rougher… harder!”

My God! I’m in public. I am literally screaming out this man’s name and no one can hear me. Mr. Monti, what have you done to me?

“Tell me you love my cock inside you!”

“It’s fucking magic! I love it. God don’t stop! Make me come!”

My words spur him on, his rhythm quickening. I’m clutching at his shoulders—my nails digging into his skin—Jesus, he’s good.

Hard rock music thunders in the background, a chaotic symphony of drums and guitars, but it’s nothing compared to the ragged sound of our breaths and the filthy, delicious words spilling from Matteo’s mouth.

“Dio mio, Katie,” he groans, his forehead dropping to mine. “You need to come. I can’t—fuck—I can’t hold back much longer.”

The raw plea in his voice sets my senses ablaze. I’ve never had this kind of power over someone before, never felt so desired. It’s beyond words, and I’ll chase it to the edge and beyond.

The pressure between my thighs is building, coiling tighter and tighter—almost unbearable. I squeeze my legs around him, pulling him deeper, and I bite down on my lip on instinct, then let myself cry out.

This isn’t making love. This is raw, unfiltered, unapologetic fucking. And I love every second of it.

“Fuck me harder. Harder. Yessss!”

“Oh Katie. God, yes! Principessa, bella, tesora, bellissima—”

His desperation drives me, and I find myself doing something I’ve never been brave enough to do in the presence of another person. I’ve always been too self-conscious, too timid. But now my hand dives between us, my fingers zeroing in on my clit. The instant I apply pressure, wild sensations explode through me.

Matteo’s eyes flicker down, catching the movement. “Sei cosìsexy. That’s so fucking hot, Katie…Sto per esplodere. Fuck, I’m—”

He cuts off with a guttural groan as his orgasm crashes through him. He’s throbbing inside me—and we’re spiraling over the edge together.

The release is overwhelming, all-consuming. Tremors wash over me in waves. I am moaning like a porn star, loudly proclaiming my pleasure in a retail store with strangers. I’m so alive it hurts. Matteo continues to move, his thrusts slowing but never stopping, as the sounds of my climax finally simmer.

Goddammit, this man’s a genius.

When the final waves of pleasure subside, we collapse together, sliding down until we’re a tangle of limbs on the floor of the dressing room. Matteo pulls me close, his lips finding my forehead, my cheeks, my lips, each kiss softer than the last.

“You are…magnifica,” he says, his voice soft but laced with awe. “Sosplendida. So precious.”

Precious?My heart stutters at the word. It shouldn’t mean anything—it’s simply a word. A word that doesn’t belong in our world of… whatever this is. But it sneaks in anyway, and I melt into him, letting myself sink into the comfort of his touch and the tenderness of his kisses.

Reality reemerges. My dress is bunched up around my hips, and I’m pretty sure there’s now a permanent Hard Rock logo stamped on my ass(thanks, wall). I wriggle out of his hold, my legs wobbling slightly, and I reach for my bag.

I fish around my purse and thank God for my Type A personality—turns out, overpreparedness pairs perfectly with poorly planned sexcapades. Travel-pack Kleenex for the win.

His lips twitch into that infuriatingly perfect smirk. “Miss Katie Crawford, ready for every occasion.”

“I call it being responsible,” I say, tossing him a tissue. “Try it sometime.”

Watching him clean himself up is almost as distracting as watching him strip in the first place. Almost.

“You say responsible,” he says, balling up the tissue and tossing it into the tiny waste bin, “but I say adorable. And also, kind of sexy.”

“Sexy? Jared always said my obsessive planning was too much.”

“He’s a fool not to see that all of you is sexy.”

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