Page 57 of The Lies We Tell

“No one can see in.” He skimmed his hands up her back, undoing her bra and easing it down her arms. “The balcony is lined with plants.”

“Matteo.” She sighed, peering over her shoulder at him.

“Turn around,” he said, voice rough. “And put your hands on the glass.” When she didn’t move, he gripped both her wrists and placed them on the cold window on either side of her reflection. “I want you to watch me touch you.”

“But, I—”

“Don’t move,” he commanded, reaching up to circle her nipples with his fingertips. “Keep your hands there until I give you permission to remove them. Don’t close your eyes, don’t look away, just watch my hands on your body. Your beautiful, soft, perfect fucking body.”

His voice was low and gravelly, his breath hot on her shoulder. He held her gaze through their reflections for a beat before his eyes dropped to his hands on her breasts, and she did the same.

Unease settled in her stomach at the sight of her figure on full display like this, but he made quick work of that, brushing the pad of his thumb over her nipple as he leaned in to kiss her shoulder. His other hand wandered down to her stomach, caressing the soft curves before slipping into the waistband of her panties.

His fingertips grazed over her clit, and she gasped, hips twitching. Watching him touch her like this seemed to heighten every sensation. The slow, teasing glide of his fingers against her clit, the sweep of his thumb across her nipple, the warm, wet kisses from her shoulder to her neck.

All of it sent heat racing through her, electricity snapping across every nerve ending. Especially as he picked up the pace, gripping her nipple between two fingers and pinching it roughly, pulling it slowly away from her body until she whimpered from the pressure and the pain of it.

He let it fall from his fingers, watching her breast bounce before cupping it in his palm and squeezing. His breaths grew faster, harsher in time with her own, and he ground the hard length of his cock against the swell of her ass.

Sinking to his knees behind her, he trailed a line of kisses down her spine, watching his movements in the window as he pulled her thong down over her thighs to her feet. She groaned when his finger immediately traced along her slit before slipping inside her.

“I wanted you from the first moment I saw you. That day you interrupted our meeting.”

“Why?” she gasped, rocking her hips forward when he added a second finger, pumping them deep.

“You’re stunning.” She snorted softly, and he gave her ass a hard smack in response. “I wanted to run my hands over every inch of you. Every curve, every dip. Everywhere. I wanted to make you mine.”

Tessa dropped her head between her shoulders with a groan when he used his other hand to rub her clit as he fucked her with his fingers, picking up the pace until her legs wobbled.

“Eyes up,” he commanded. “Watch yourself come.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, she lifted her head and found his hand moving between her thighs at a frenzied pace. In, out, deeper, harder, faster, the pressure on her clit relentless. Her breath fogged the glass in front of her, and her body trembled, but he didn’t slow or falter.

“That’s my good girl,” he said, voice hoarse, lips grazing her ass as she began to clench around him, and with one last painful squeeze of her clit, she tumbled over the edge.

She felt him stand behind her, heard the rustle of his clothes as he shoved his pants to the floor and stepped out of them. Then he was pressed against her, using his foot to position her legs further apart and pressing his palm to the small of her back to bend her forward.

Leaning over her, he brought his lips to her shoulder, then her jaw. “You’re mine,” he whispered as he slid deep inside her.

“Matteo,” she groaned.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” He pulled back and surged forward again with a brutal thrust.

He wasn’t. That was the problem. But she couldn’t be his, no matter how much she might want it. And once he found out she’d been passing information to her father, he’d want nothing to do with her ever again.

This moment with him, of watching herself become an object of desire, of feeling as sexy as he always told her she was, it was priceless. And it would have to last her a lifetime.

“Mine,” he growled, punctuating the word with the slap of his hips. “Forever.”

“Yes,” she whimpered, fingers curling into the glass as he ravaged her.

Another lie. There would be no forever for them. Only this perfect encapsulation of how much he wanted her, frozen in time. She couldn’t keep him, but she could keep this memory.

He reached up to grip her breasts as he slammed into her over and over, rocking her onto her toes and forcing low, needy moans from her throat. This was what she wanted to remember. The feel of him inside her, the feel of his hands on her skin, his fingers on her nipples, the ragged sound of his breath in her ear.

She wanted to remember the way her body felt like liquid fire whenever he touched her, whispered to her, coaxed orgasm after orgasm from her body until she was limp with exhaustion. Those were things that would last well after he hated her. That was her forever.

“Be a good girl,” he breathed against the back of her neck, “and come hard for me.”

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