Page 57 of Bellini Born
Oh dear sweet baby Jesus.
Like he could turn it on and off at will, the expression conveying pure carnal need vanished from his face, replaced with one conveying a father’s affection. “All right,principessa, what has Santa brought you?”
Matteo lowered himself to the ground, propping Serafina between his spread-open thighs and placing a wrapped package before her.
The baby girl slapped at the box, her fine motor skills not yet developed enough to remove the paper. But she was perfectly content to watch on as her older sister began tearing into her massive mountain of gifts.
Bianca’s pure joy was infectious, and more than once, Matteo’s eyes lifted to meet mine when I let laughter spill into the air.
Once she’d opened all of her presents, Bianca was more than happy to help open Serafina’s as well. Then came the begging for her father to break into the boxes containing toys so she could play.
Mesmerized, I watched as Matteo’s big hands ripped the cardboard apart effortlessly.
Those hands could definitely do some damage. Probably leave some decent bruises.
The room had quieted enough with Bianca occupied by her new dolls that the tiniestmeowcould be heard.
Matteo’s head turned in that direction. “What was that?”
Bianca didn’t waste any time running in the direction of the train’s caboose, where my surprise gift was contained.
“It’s a kitty!”
Her father let out a stunned exhale. “Santa brought you acat?”
She lifted the two-year-old tabby cat into her arms. “I love him!”
“Her,” I corrected.
Matteo trained his sharp gaze on me. “Her?”
“Yeah.” My cringe was audible. It hadn’t really occurred to me until this moment that I probably should have asked for permission before buying his daughters a pet.
Then another thought struck me.
“Nobody’s allergic, are they?”
“Not that I know of.” He shook his head slowly.
Bianca took off running. “I’m going to show Cookie my room!”
The minute she was gone, Matteo arched a dark eyebrow. “A cat?”
My brows drew down. “Wait. Why are you acting so surprised if she already scratched you?”
He stared at me in confusion. “What?”
I gestured to his bandaged forearm. “You said you got clawed.”
Slowly, he peeled away the gauze to reveal his wounds. Instead of long scratches you’d expect to see as the handiwork of a cat, there was a set of crescent-shaped nail marks decorating his olive skin, and my eyes went wide as realization sank in. That’s where the blood had come from when I’d been jerking him off.
“Idid that?“ The words fell from my lips on a disbelieving exhale.
Matteo’s lips folded inward as he fought a smile. “You sure did.”
“Oh my God,” I groaned, covering my face. “I’m so sorry. I—“
“Don’t be. I wear these marks as a badge of honor.”
