Page 147 of Vicious Intentions
A long silence follows, and for a moment, I start to question if he heard me. I turn onto my side and find Matteo staring up at the ceiling as well, his arm draped over his head, looking wide awake.
“Did you hear what I just said?”
“Yes, wife. I heard you just fine.”
“Stop calling me that,” I grumble, but again I’m met with silence. “That’s it? You’re not going to say anything?”
“Would you like me to?”
“You’re a very aggravating man, do you know that?” I snap.
“And you’re more spirited than I remember. I don’t mind it though. I might even prefer it.”
Matteo smiles, but it never reaches his eyes. In fact, he almost looks… sad. Good. That’s good.
No. That’s wrong. I was expecting anger. Fury. Maybe even defensiveness. Or more manipulation tactics. Not… sadness.
“I really don’t understand you,” I say, letting out a frustrated breath.
“Do you even want to?”
“What?”
Matteo turns onto his side, facing me, his gaze unwavering. “I asked… is that something you want? Do you want to get to know me?”
I let out a small scoff. “I think I’ve gotten the gist of the kind of man that you are. Why would I want to know more?”
His sad smile deepens, and I don’t understand why it makes something in my chest ache.
“True. If there’s anyone in this world who knows me,” he says quietly, “it’s you, wife.”
And there he is… confusing me again.
We stay like that for a while, just staring into each other’s eyes. When his gaze drops to my lips, my heart stutters. And just like that, I’m taken back to our kiss after we made vows that were never meant to mean anything.
The way my breath caught when his lips brushed mine. The way my body went still, then leaned into him before I could stop myself. His kiss had started soft, almost careful, and then deepened, turning into something that made my heart flutter and blur all rational thought.
For a moment, I hadn’t wanted it to end. That’s what terrifies me the most. Because I didn’t want him to stop. Ever.
Aside from Matteo, the only other person I’ve ever kissed was his brother, Raffaele. I remember how lackluster it was, how disappointed I’d been that there wasn’t even a spark.
Matteo’s kiss didn’t just spark. It consumed. It burned like napalm, igniting something in me I didn’t even think could be possible.
What does that say about me? That the man I thought I loved couldn’t stir in me what the man I swore to hate for all eternity can? Hours have passed since he kissed me, and yet my lips still feel perfectly swollen because of it. I keep brushing my fingers over them, relishing the memory more times than I can count.
Instead of the shame I should feel, there’s a part of me that aches for Matteo to lean in closer and just…
Heat rushes to my cheeks, my traitorous body betraying me all over again. For some reason, I have this visceral reaction to Matteo, and for the life of me, I don’t understand why. All I know is that I wish it would stop.
Before I can look away from Matteo, he beats me to the punch and turns onto his back again, fixing his gaze on the ceiling.
“When you’re ready to be my wife, that’s when I’ll take you. Not a second sooner.”
Why did he just say that? Did he see how much I wanted…
“And what if I’m never ready?” I ask, hating how my voice breaks at the end.
Matteo doesn’t answer. Instead, he turns onto his side, his back fully to me now.
