Page 98 of Matteo

“You’re tired. I’m going to get ready for bed myself.” Before I can argue with him, he disappears into the walk-in closet.

For two seconds I’m annoyed he rebuffed me. Matteo has never told me no—for anything. Until I bend down to pick up my robe from the floor and I guess the lidocaine has worn off because my burn stings as the soft cotton finds it. Ouch, that’s why he’s turning me down.

This is stupid. It hurts a little, but not enough for him not to make love to me. All the arguments I could make bubble up only to die since they aren’t anything I haven’t already said. Mind jumbled, I reach for my lotion to put on, and the cool plastic feels good against my burn. It hits me.

When he walks out of the closet wearing only his robe for him to go take his own shower, I hold out my lotion to him. “Please, can you help me?”

“Of course.” His eyes are running over me with concern.

I shrug. “The lidocaine wore off, I guess.”

“I’ll grab it, be right back.” Once he’s applied more lidocaine, he runs his eyes over me. “And some pajamas.”

“I don’t want to wear any.” Shaking my head, I turn my back to him. “Please, can you put the lotion on? My skin is a little itchy.”

“Um, yes. Sorry.”

I’m biting my lip not to laugh. I’ve never heard him so flustered. This is totally going to work.

It’s so quiet in the room I hear every move he makes, from squeezing out the lotion to applying it to his hands. His large hands come down on my shoulders.

The scent of the lotion, a mix of roses and jasmine, floats up to me as he slowly massages my shoulders. Those hands are gentle and tender as they slide over my skin. The doctor is back. There is nothing sexual in his touch. Focused and intent, they don’t miss a single inch. I’m holding my breath when his fingertips graze over the top of my ass, only for him to stop.

I swallow an outraged cry when I hear him pick up the bottle of lotion again. Right. Lotion. He’s supposed to be applying lotion. In an attempt to get it together, I focus on the carpet beneath my feet.

From the top of one shoulder, those large hands roam down my arm to my hand. He’s gentle as he works the lotion in between my fingers. His thumb runs over my engagement ring with a small smile.

Done, he has the lotion again and begins on my other arm. It’s the right one. He's even more gentle once he gets to my hand before pressing a tender kiss to my burn. If I hadn’t loved him before tonight, this is the moment when it would have happened.

In a move far more graceful than anything I could hope to accomplish, he’s down on his knees. I open my mouth to ask him what he’s doing. Only there’s no need to ask because a lotion-covered hand is running along my hip down to the top of my thighs—once again grazing the skin of my ass without touching it the way I’m dying for him too.

Down one leg, he’s going too fast, or is it not fast enough? All I know is he’s picking up my foot to sweep his hand along the sole. His large hand encompasses my entire foot as he works the lotion in between my toes. My hand goes down on his shoulder to steady myself.

His head comes up. “Are you all right?”

I nod, my throat too tight to say a word.

Now to the other side. Am I wrong, or does he slow as his fingers come within an inch of my clearly wet core? Before my brain can process it, though, he’s already picking up my foot to apply lotion to it.

How the hell does he move so fluidly for a man as big as he is? He has the bottle of lotion again as he stands. I want to shout in delight at the way gold flashes as he stares down at my tight nipples.

One step forward brings him so close that the hair on his chest brushes against my aching nipples. I can’t breathe until those large hands come down in the middle of each ass cheek and squeeze gently.

“You’re a witch.” He mutters as his mouth takes mine. His kiss is rough and greedy, making the world spin around us.

“I put a spell on you?” I tease him.

“An unbreakable spell to bring me to my knees for your every wish.”

“My only wish is for you to never stop loving me the way I love you.”

His forehead falls to mine. “You have it, my love. You are the air I breathe.”

“Show me.” I plead.

Sighing, his hands become rougher as they squeeze my ass—shaping the flesh before a middle finger slides down and presses into me. I shiver at the intent behind it. One eyebrow goes up in question.

Over the past few weeks, he’s gone from using his middle finger to three fingers. Last night he fucked me with them while he made me sit on his face. I came so hard that the world almost went black. If I had been able to speak I would have begged him to use his cock on me then.

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