Page 28 of The Lies We Tell

“More,” she said, squirming when he didn’t change his pace. “Harder. Faster.”

“You want me to fuck you hard and fast, piccola?”

She nodded, tightening her leg around his waist when he slammed into her. “Yes,” she groaned. “Just like that.”

He dropped his head to suck her nipple into his mouth, hips slapping against hers with each brutal thrust inside her. She was close. He could sense it in the way her muscles tightened and her hips moved erratically against his.

Biting down on her nipple, he smiled when she came undone around him with a gasp, her pussy squeezing him like a vise until he had no choice but to follow her over the edge with his own release.

“Oh my God,” she said, her voice muffled in his shoulder.

He chuckled as he rolled onto his back, reaching out to pull her against his side. She laid her head on his chest, and he indulged himself by running his fingers through her hair.

They lay there in silence for a few moments until she finally said in a small voice, “I should go back to my room. You probably don’t want the maids to find me here in the morning.”

Matteo didn’t care what the maids saw. Or anyone else in the house, for that matter. But he wasn’t going to chain her to his bed against her will just because he wanted to sleep curled around her luscious body.

He watched her retrieve her clothes from the floor, bundling them up against her body to shield herself as much as she could to dart across the hall.

“Tessa,” he said, drawing her gaze with her hand on the knob. He couldn’t resist getting one last look at her, lingering on the exquisite curve of her ass before moving back up to her face. “Don’t forget.”

“Forget what?” she asked, voice a little breathy.

“How perfect you are.”

Her cheeks flushed and she ducked out, closing the door softly behind her. Matteo collapsed back against the bed with a groan. That woman was going to be his undoing.

Chapter Eleven

Tessa sat in one of the wingback chairs in front of the fireplace in her room, staring out the window at the rain pelting the grass and trees. Her usual spot on the library balcony was soaked through, thanks to the rain and the wind, which left her stuck inside, wishing for fresh air instead.

She’d woken up sore this morning. Sore and alone. And even though alone had been her choice, it still left a dull ache in her chest. The ache was a problem.

Spending the night in Matteo’s bed would have been a terrible idea. He’d far exceeded any expectations she might have had as a lover. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been a man who was gruff and short with everyone else but made her feel seen and sexy and desired.

If this was a mind game, Matteo was winning, and she couldn’t afford for that to happen. He could have his pick of any woman he wanted; the things he said to her the night before were his own means to an end. He wanted to have sex with her, so he did what he had to do to get what he wanted. She was doing the same.

As long as she remembered that, she could keep the guilt at bay.

Her phone signaled on the arm of the chair, and she knew who it was without looking. She didn’t have many friends in Syracuse, but none of them had this number. And she didn’t know any of them well enough to have their numbers memorized.

How are you today?

Tessa stared at the message. She had nothing for him. Just like yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. Knowing who she was dealing with, there was a very distinct possibility that her father would eventually get bored with her lack of results and kill her and her mother anyway.

Even if it wasn’t true, she had to give him enough to make him think she was making progress.

Better than yesterday. I think I’m finally getting closer to where I need to be.

Not a total lie, at least. She was closer than yesterday, but she could hardly promise her father she’d have anything for him anytime soon. If Matteo was just in this for the sex, there was no guarantee he’d ever let his guard down enough to share anything with her at all.

Good. That’s good. I’ll check in again tomorrow.

A knock on her bedroom door made her jump, and she quickly deleted the text messages and hid her phone between her leg and the chair.

“Come in.”

“Sorry if I’m interrupting,” Sienna said, tucking her brown hair behind her ear and offering a small smile.

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