Page 132 of Ache for You (Slow Burn 3)
I nod, sniffling. “Yes, really. I think I saw God.”
He exhales in relief, squeezing me so hard I think he might snap me in half. “Jesus.”
“Him too. There might have also been cherubs.”
Matteo starts to laugh, softly at first, then louder. “What am I going to do with you?”
“More of the same, please.”
He takes us back down to the bed and kisses me with so much tenderness it leaves me shaking. He dries my face with his fingertips and his lips, kissing away the tears, murmuring such sweet things I feel like my heart could break from hearing them. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders and tell him to take off the rest of his clothes.
“Oh.” He goes still again.
“What is it?”
“I didn’t bring a condom.”
I understand by the look on his face why not. “Like when a woman doesn’t shave her legs before a date so she won’t be tempted to have sex.”
“Exactly.”
I take a breath for courage and say, “I’m clean. I was just tested. So . . .”
His lids droop a little, and his voice drops. “So . . . bare is what you’re saying.”
I bite my lip, nodding. “As long as you’re clean, too.”
“I am,” he answers instantly. “I have the papers at the house if you want me to go get them.”
I give him a look that says, Shut the hell up.
He grins. “Okay. Now that that’s out of the way.” He jumps up, stands on the side of the bed, and strips.
When he’s finished and is standing there naked in all his glory, I slowly shake my head in awe. “Wow. Just . . . wow.”
“Thank you. I think.”
“Get your ass in this bed this instant.”
He’s a good boy and obeys without batting a lash, jumping on top of me with a fake animal growl and tickling me until I shriek. Then he slides inside me and the shrieking stops, replaced by deep groans.
Into my ear he says huskily, “You’re soaked.”
“Your fault.” I gasp as he thrusts, driving deeper. “Oh God, this is all your fault if you stop I will kill you.”
“And so hot,” he whispers, thrusting again. “You feel so amazing. You feel like heaven, bella, fucking heaven.”
I open my thighs and take him deeper, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. When my nails scratch his scalp, things turn intense. He bites my neck. I bite his shoulder. His fingers dig into my ass. Mine dig into his back. He starts to fuck me, hard, grunting and hissing out such wonderfully filthy things it makes my cheeks burn.
I love it. I love it all. Every dirty word. Every possessive bite. Every single pinch, stroke, and groan he gives me.
When he shudders, making a soft agonized noise, I know he’s close. Close and holding back so I can get there first.
But I want to get there together.
Into his ear I whisper, “I have an IUD. Come inside me.”
“God,” he says, his voice strangled. “Could you be any more perfect?”
