Page 155 of The One
I giggle at the image of his brother dusting shelves or folding laundry. “Good. I can’t imagine our Don cleaning,” I say with a grin. “That picture just doesn’t fit him.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he agrees, still laughing.
I carry the last dust sheet to the open drawer where Mateo has been neatly stacking them, and drop it onto the pile. When I turn around, Mateo is there, so close that I draw in a sharp breath.
His hands find my waist, pulling me snug against his body. I sigh with contentment. Wrapped in his arms, feeling like nothing in the world can touch me, has quickly become my favorite place.
He moves us backward with measured steps until my back meets the cool, solid surface of the wall. The contrast between its chill and the heat radiating from him sends a shiver down my spine. He unwinds his arms from around me, but instead of letting me go, he braces them on the wall on either side of my head, caging me in.
The energy between us shifts instantly. What had been playful and relaxed just moments ago transforms into something way more electric.
His eyes hold mine, their intensity cutting through the air like lightning, igniting every nerve in my body.
I can feel the heat of his breath as he leans in, his lips just a whisper away from mine. The charged silence between us is deafening, as if the entire world has paused, holding its breath for what comes next.
“Do you have any idea what it means to me to have you here?” he murmurs, his voice low, rough, and impossibly seductive.
My heart pounds wildly, as I search for a response, but words fail me. He looks at me like I’m the only thing that exists in his world, and it steals every coherent thought from my mind.
“Teo,” I whisper, my voice trembling with anticipation.
His lips curve into a small, knowing smile. “You drive me insane,” he says, his tone both a confession and a challenge. His gaze flickers to my lips, lingering for a heartbeat before meeting my eyes again.
It’s all the encouragement I need.
I reach up, sliding my hands around his neck, pulling him down to me. The kiss starts soft, tender, but the simmering tension between us refuses to be contained. It deepens quickly, his hands shifting to my hips, fingers digging in just enough to confirm I’m his.
The rest of the world could go up in flames and neither of us would even notice. All that matters is him. His touch, his taste, the unspoken promise in the way he holds me like I’m something precious.
When we finally break apart, both of us breathing hard, he rests his forehead against mine.
“We better get in the groceries from the car,” I say softly, a little breathless, as I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him to me, never wanting to let him go.
His voice is rough, like gravel over silk. “You’re right. There’s a jar of honey with your name on it.”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Mateo
Mari tastes like the honey and the strawberries I’ve been feeding her.
It’s well into the evening now, and darkness has settled like a soft velvet cloak over the world outside. Our bedroom glows with the warm, golden light cast by the candles scattered across various surfaces.
We explored and enjoyed each other’s bodies for hours, and still, it doesn’t seem enough.
When Mari slides her tongue against mine, my entire body reacts with instant, visceral need as if I hadn’t just come down her throat mere minutes before.
I bracket her waist with my hands to stop her from writhing against me, the friction sending jolts of lust from the head of my cock to my again-aching balls.
“Fuck.” I groan, ready to devour her again. The vibrations from Mari’s answering laughter don’t help my situation either.
“You need to eat more,” I tell her, my voice soft but firm.
Her stomach answers before she can, growling loudly, and it draws a small laugh from me. She flashes me a sheepish smile that melts me on the spot.
I turn to the platter we placed on the bedside table earlier, its assortment of bread, cheese, and fruit still looking as inviting as when we first brought it in. Picking up a slice of bread, I layer it with a thin, perfectly cut piece of cheese. Her eyes follow my movements as I bring it to her lips.
“Open,” I murmur, my tone playful, a little commanding. She does, parting her lips without hesitation, and I gently place the bite inside.
