Page 58 of The Lies We Tell

He held her nipple tight in his fingers, increasing the pressure until she could barely breathe. When he wrenched it with a sharp twist of his fingers, she sobbed his name, her orgasm swamping her as his cock surged in and out of her pussy.

“Tessa,” he said through gritted teeth, shoving deep and emptying himself inside her. “Do you believe me now?” he asked after a beat, flicking his tongue against her earlobe.

“About what?” she panted.

“About how perfect you are and how much I want you.”

She chuckled in spite of herself. “I think I’m starting to.”

He stepped away, and she groaned at the loss of him, leaning her forehead against the glass as she caught her breath. His fingers circled her wrist, pulling her body upright and spinning her slowly to face him. Pressing her back against the window, he kissed her, warming her to the core even as the cool glass sent a chill over her skin.

“I’m going to keep touching you, keep reminding you until you believe me,” he promised her.

She bit her lip and glanced around the room over his shoulder. “On all these surfaces?”

He laughed, twisting his body and dropping onto the chaise. Pulling her into his lap, he pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat. “There are so many surfaces in this place to try. But I want to watch you ride me again, piccola. You looked so pretty riding me on the plane.”

Straddling his thighs, she looped her arms around his neck and brought his lips to hers. Her kiss was slow and deep, and he returned it without demanding more.

In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to tell him. To confess every single thing that had happened between when she saw him in her father’s office and now and know that the two of them could find a solution together, find her mother, kill her father, and live happily ever after.

But that was a fairytale. And fairytales weren’t real.

This was how it had to be. It would all come crashing down around her eventually. Hopefully she could escape Sicily before he found out. She didn’t think she could stand to see the look in his eyes when he learned of all the ways she had betrayed him.

“I’m never going to get enough of you, Tessa. I hope you know I’m going to keep you.” He nipped her chin, groaning as she slid down his length. “Forever.”

“Forever,” she agreed.

For a little while longer, she would let them both have the fantasy that a future together was possible. She’d have plenty of time to think about all the ways this could go horribly wrong another day.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Aren’t you going to buy something for yourself?”

Matteo slid his sunglasses down his nose and looked at Tessa over the top. “And what do you call that?”

She glanced at the black and white bag he gestured to. “More lingerie than I will ever be able to wear in a single lifetime.”

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he hauled her up against his chest, leaning down to kiss her. “Nonsense. I intend to make you model every single piece once we get home.”

She tried to look stern, but it was broken by a grin when he dropped his hand and squeezed her ass.

“Matteo,” she replied, a pleading note in her voice.

“Tessa.”

“What about that watch you saw? We could go back and get that.”

He darted a look back the way they’d come and checked the watch he was already wearing. “Maybe. Are you hungry?”

She lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug, pressing closer when a group of teenagers brushed past them. “I could eat. What time is our flight again?”

“Not for another couple of hours.” Though he could spend weeks with her in Paris and still want more time.

Watching her experience the city for the first time was almost like experiencing it for the first time all over again himself. The sights, the shopping, the little cafés every ten paces. Everything enthralled her. And her French was better than his, something that never ceased to delight him.

Margot and Laurent were right; Paris was better in the spring. They could sit outside the cafés enjoying fresh croissants and café au lait or a nice lazy lunch or take a boat ride down the Seine for dinner. But she was a light against the dull days of winter bundled up in her bright blue coat, her thick black hair coming loose from the bun she’d swept it into and blowing across her face.

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