Page 44 of Caruso
My heart is pounding and my senses heightened as I drown in a world I never expected to find. Taylor has themind and body of a siren, and I am hooked. A beautiful mirage of all that is good and bad with the world, trapped in a sinful body that will be the ruin of my family.
I drop my fingers from her face and point to the smoked salmon rolls on her plate.
“Take in some food. There is more to your education than sex tonight.”
She picks up her fork, and I shake my head.
“Use your fingers tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because we are stripping it back to basics.”
“That explains why I am naked.”
Her laugh is soft and yet light, happy even, and it thumps me in the gut so hard I almost choke.
More to distract myself than anything else, I lift one of the salmon rolls and hold it out to her lips, and as she holds my gaze, her mouth opens, and as she pulls the food inside, her eyes close as she groans with satisfaction.
My cock is almost knocking on the table to get out, and it’s taking a superhuman effort not to throw her on her back and fuck her mercilessly right now. But I can’t. This night must be special, and my intention is that I get all her nights from now on. Fuck Giorgio. He can have her days while I attend to business, and if Tommaso removes his head from his ass, he may be entitled to her mornings. But I get her nights because the thought of her soft body pressed against mine as I sleep holding her in my arms is a fantasy I have never wanted before—until her.
Chapter Nineteen
Taylor
The more time I spend with Matteo, the more I like him. He scared me at first—terrified me even. He is a man, rough, yet refined, crude yet a gentleman and has years on me that brings with it wisdom. He is somebody to look up to, learn from and admire, and when I walked in through the doors of his hotel to find him—them, I never understood what that would mean for my heart.
I’m only just discovering it’s in there somewhere. Beating for sure, but with no emotion but hatred for the world. For some reason it is slowly thawing and as he feeds me from his plate like a dog, I couldn’t give a fuck because he is the one doing it. I’ll take what I can from him because it’s done with reverence. He is my educator, and I am hungry to learn.
The wine doesn’t even taste as gruesome now. After the first few sips, I grew accustomed to it, and when herefills my glass, I stare with surprise at the fact it was empty.
His low chuckle causes me to smile. “Is something amusing you?”
“You amuse me, baby girl. You are naive, lost even, and yet there is steel in your spine that I admire.”
He pins me with a lustful spark from his eyes, and I squirm on my seat, desperate for the next lesson because Matteo is so hot I’m melting inside.
He is naked from the waist upwards, and I am desperate to learn what wonders he is hiding from me. His physique is masculine, his muscles the result of a workout that must happen frequently. The ink tells a story I look forward to hearing about one day, and his strong jaw is both cruel and beautiful. Beautiful cruelty is the only way I can describe this man, and I should be terrified, but I am only intrigued.
He must be at least fifteen years my senior, yet I welcome every year of them. He is experienced; I am not, a teacher if you like. I am jealous of the years that he has lived without being in his life. The women who sat here before me and commanded his attention that I am greedy for. He is my obsession, fascination and teacher, and I am already craving the next lesson.
It’s as if he senses that and stands, my mouth dry as I swallow because from the gleam in his eye this one will be every bit as delicious as the last one.
“Come with me.”
He extends his hand and, as my fingers entwinewith his, he pulls me to my feet, staring hungrily at my body as his gaze lights a fire on every nerve I possess.
We are silent as we walk down the hallway, and I’m grateful for once for the heels as I stand shoulder to shoulder with him. They give me an edge I wasn’t expecting, and when we enter a room, I blink in shock at the decadence before me.
Matteo’s domain, his bedroom if you like. It reeks of masculinity and him. His scent woven into the decadent fabrics of silk, fur and velvet.
A huge bed dominates the room, draped in dark brown fur, black silk sheets teamed with ivory scatter cushions.
The walls are a deep chestnut, illuminated by wall lighting, and a huge chandelier hangs decadently above the bed. There are mirrors everywhere, reflecting us from every angle, and the huge heavy silk drapes create a wall against the lights illuminating Vegas outside.
He points to the bed and whispers huskily, “Lie on your back.”
He drops my hand, and I shiver as I do his bidding, sliding onto the bed, worrying I will disturb the perfectly placed bedding.
