Page 96 of Untamed

I give him a questioning look. “Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?”

Matteo chuckles, “I would have enjoyed it a lot more if I didn’t spend the entire time thinking about you and wishing you were there with me.”

I stare at him surprised. No expecting that response from him. “Since that night at the pool, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.” His eyes don’t waver from mine.

The path curves, leading us beneath a tunnel of wisteria vines, the late summer bloom painting everything violet and honey. It’s quiet here. Private.

Dangerously so.

Matteo tugs me to a stop beneath the hanging blooms. His eyes search mine with something quieter now. Not just charm...something much heavier.

“It didn’t matter how much I drank or how pretty the girls were,” he says, glancing sideways at me, “Not one of them held my attention. Not even for a second. And it pissed me off,” he admits, almost like a confession. “Because I don’t chase or get attached to one girl. I don’t do...this.”

I arch a brow. “It’s probably because I’m not breaking my back trying to impress you.”

His smile is slow, appreciative. “Exactly, and I like that.” He drawls, stepping closer to me. I search his face, unsure what to say. Matteo Russo, golden boy, charmer, smooth talker… looking at me like I’m the one who’s thrown him off balance.

He steps closer, his voice rougher now. “You’re different.”

I blink up at him, lips parting, heart thudding. But I can’t help the slow smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

“Wow, an entire trip to Ibiza and not one girl managed to steal your attention?” I tease, tilting my head, voice silky. “Either I’m really unforgettable... or your standards took a vacation too.”

His gaze sharpens with amusement, lips tugging into that signature smirk. “Confident little thing, aren’t you?”

I lean in slightly, matching his grin. “I mean, if confidence is what keeps you on edge, I’d hate to disappoint.”

He chuckles—low and wicked. “Edge? Sweetheart, you’re dancing on it.”

“Good,” I say, lifting a brow. “That’s usually where the fun begins.”

Matteo huffs a soft laugh through his nose, and then he reaches up, hand steady, eyes locked on mine, and plucks a single purple bloom from the wisteria vine overhead. He twirls it between his fingers, then gently tucks it behind my ear. “I have an endless list offunthings I would like to do with you...” he smirks. “...using my tongue.”

A soft, quivering breath pushes past my lips. Matteo doesn’t pull away.

Instead, his fingers linger at my jaw, brushing along my skin like he’s trying to memorise it. Slowly, he leans in, closer, closer, until I can feel the warmth of his breath against my lips.

“Muoio dalla voglia di assaggiare le tue labbra.”I’m dying for a taste of your lips.

And then he kisses me, slow at first, just a brush of his mouth against mine, but it deepens quickly, hungrily. His mouth moves against mine like he’s been starving for this, for me, for the space we’ve kept between us all summer.

Matteo’s kiss is warm and coaxing, and at first, I let myself get swept into it. He kisses like he talks, confident and practised, like he knows exactly what to do to make a girl melt. And,boy, does he.

His hand settles on my waist, the other cradling the side of my neck, tilting my face just the way he wants it.

It’s a good kiss. Anyone else would be dizzy from it.

But not me.

Because as his mouth moves against mine, all I can think about is another kiss. One that barely fully happened. One that hovered, dangerous and trembling, on the edge of restraint.

When Ares kissed me, it wasn’t because he knew what he was doing. He kissed me like hefeltit, like it cost him everything.

There was no performance, no show. Just pressure and heat and that deep, aching hunger he barely kept leashed.

This? This is smooth. Perfect, even. But it doesn’t set me on fire. It doesn’thaunt. I feel the difference in my bones. I’m kissed like a girl he wants, while with Ares, I was kissed like a sin he couldn’t resist.

Matteo has no idea that this is my second kiss. Doesn’t realise the first with his uncle was something otherworldly. That it came from a man who didn’t take it, even when he could have, whofoughtit, like kissing me would damn him.

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