God, the rumble in his voice only amplifies the conflicting feelings being this close to him causes.
“I have a confession, Olivia.”
I nod, words stuck in my throat. For once, I’m unable to speak.
“I feel like being very inappropriate with you right now.”
I suck in a sharp breath and slowly lift my hands to his hard chest. God, is this man made of muscle? “You do?”
He huffs, then his palm cups my cheek, and he leans in to kiss me. It’s soft, softer than I expected, but desire shoots right through me.
My hands slide across his chest and shoulders, noticing how wide and strong he is under my palms.
Matteo presses into me, making the counter bite into my hips. His kiss devolves into hunger, hand sinking into my hair, and I’m struggling to breathe. He’s so intense, and heat builds in my center.
He pulls back a few inches, fingers softly massaging my scalp. “I’d like for you to stay. With me.”
Trying to catch my breath, I meet those deep brown eyes. The sincerity and desire in his eyes has me nodding automatically. Am I getting myself into hot water here? Deeper than I’ll be able to tread? Maybe.
Do I care? Not right this second, I don’t.
I finally allow myself to brush my fingertips over his beard before closing the distance between us again for a slow, drawn-out kiss. “Yes, but first, those cupcakes need to go in the fridge.”
His laugh sends a new wave of heat through me, and I smile before turning in his grip and grabbing the tray. He releases me long enough to put them away and finish cleaning up before Matteo takes my hand and draws me around to the back of his house instead of upstairs.
His master bedroom is large with a wide glass sliding door to the backyard. I understand why we haven’t gone upstairs. There’s a private spot just outside the door that seems to be made just for him.
I don’t get to look for too long, but I catch the deep reds and dark woods that make up the room and his big, soft-looking bed. Then he’s pulling me back in his arms and kissing me like he might die if he stops.
The backs of my legs hit the edge of his mattress, and Matteo has me in his arms, lifting me like I don’t weigh over two hundred pounds and sliding between my thighs. He’s notmoving fast, soaking in every inch of me with his hands and the press of his body.
I finally get to admire how he looks outside of work, a T-shirt clinging to his shoulders but draping around his waist. He’s got a broad, athletic build, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach back and pull his shirt over his head to let me explore his torso.
So much rich, tan muscle and skin, dark hair trimmed across his chest, just long enough to catch under my fingernails. And when I scrape my nails down his back, he leans his head into the crook of my neck and groans.
Then, his kisses start, creating a path over my sensitive skin and drawing out a shiver that has me clinging to him. When his mouth finds my ear, the rasp of his voice has become more accented. “You are a beautiful woman, Olivia. Inside and out. Fire, strength, and determination paired with passion, intelligence, and kindness. You make it impossible not to want you.”
Mouth on mine again, he tightens his arms around me, squeezing us together so that I can feel every one of his muscles move.
But those words circle in my mind, turning me on more than anything else he could do, and I intend to let him do as he pleases.
Matteo peels my clothes off in a slow progression, pausing between each piece to properly worship every newly revealed part of me. Working me up until I’m shaking with need, he pauses to look me in the eyes again for a long moment.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
I laugh softly and twine my fingers in his hair. “Yes.”
Settling me in the middle of his giant bed, the last traces of our clothes disappear, and I get to feel every glorious inch of him. I barely soften my moan when he slides into me.
God, the way his pupils blow wide as he peers down at me makes me reach for him, pull him down over me, and shift my hips under him.
Even though Matteo has obvious strength, his thrusts are slow and gentle, filling me up in a special way that has me scratching at his back and sides. And fuck, it didn’t make him change a single thing about his pace.
He only allows me to wiggle a little bit. It’s like he’s hell-bent on driving me crazy. Which is working. My thighs shake with the effort to take more of what I want.
“God. Matteo.” My voice holds more whine than I intend, but I crave all of that power he’s teasing me with.
“Hmm,” he murmurs against my jaw. “Did you want me to go slower?”