Page 169 of Vicious Intentions
“Honestly? I don’t know.”
I hold his gaze for another beat, then let my eyes drop to his lips. His warm, inviting, perfect lips. Before I can stop myself, I rise onto the balls of my feet, eager to feel them on mine again.
“Don’t,” Matteo murmurs, gripping my shoulders to keep me still. “Don’t kiss me if you don’t mean it,vita mia. I’m too weak when it comes to you.”
One look into his eyes, and I know he means it. Every word. He is weak.Imake him weak.
“Kiss me,” I say, my voice stronger than it’s ever been.
Matteo swallows hard, his hands slipping from my shoulders to my hips.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Just… kiss me, Matteo. Please.” The words barely leave my lips before he’s on me.
Matteo’s mouth crashes against mine, and unlike the soft kiss we shared before, this one is demanding and all-consuming. I barely manage a breath before he’s on me again, his lips moving with urgency. His tongue slips past my lips, and I whimper softly as it tangles with mine.
My hands find his shoulders, clinging to him as my knees threaten to give out. His mouth finds mine again and again, driven by a hunger that leaves me dazed and breathless. His griptightens on my hips, pulling me flush against him as if he can’t get close enough, as if the space between us is something he needs to erase completely.
I gasp into his mouth, and he takes full advantage of it, deepening the kiss, claiming it.Claiming me.
My fingers curl into his shirt, clutching at the fabric as his lips move against mine with a desperation that makes my head spin.
There’s nothing restrained about him now, nothing controlled. Every ounce of anger, every flicker of hurt, every unspoken word between us pours into the way he kisses me. It’s overwhelming, but I don’t pull away. I lean into it. Matching his desire with my own.
My lips part for him without hesitation, my body pressing closer, seeking more, needing more. A soft sound spills from me when his hand slides from my hip to my waist, then higher, as if he’s trying to memorize me through touch alone.
“Anna,” he breathes against my mouth, my name rough, almost broken.
However, he doesn’t stop. If anything, it only fuels him as his other hand comes up, tangling in my hair, tilting my head back just enough to deepen the kiss further. I feel it everywhere—the heat, the tension, the way his control is slipping right through his fingers.
At that moment, the realization hits me all at once—maybe I’m just as weak when it comes to my husband. My knees nearly give out at the thought, and I hold on to him tighter.
Matteo’s mouth moves down the corner of my lips, brushing my jaw, as if losing himself to his most base instincts. Almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, even if he wanted to. And the irony in all this is that I can’t stop either. I don’t want to.
“Matteo,” I breathe, my head tilting to the other side as he trails soft, tantalizing kisses down my neck.
“Tell me what you need, sweetheart,” he murmurs against my skin. “Use your words. Just like I taught you.”
Images of our late-night calls flash through my mind, heat blooming through my body at the memory.
“I want… I want…” I pant, unsure if I can take much more, and knowing that if he stops, I might combust from the need building inside me. “More… I need more,” I manage to say, holding onto him like I might fall apart without him.
“Fuck,” he growls.
I let out a small shriek when his hands grip my hips and lift me effortlessly in the air, settling me onto his desk. My legs wrap around his waist on instinct, pulling him closer as his mouth continues its slow descent along my neck.
My breath catches when his lips hover lower to my collarbone, then down… down… A sharp intake of air escapes me when he finally finds my pebbled nipple and sucks it into his mouth through the fabric, the sensation sending a wave of heat straight through my body.
My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging lightly as he continues, drawing quiet, broken sounds from my lips. I hiss softly when his teeth graze on the sensitive flesh, the sound bringing his gaze back to mine.
“Is this okay?” he asks with a rough voice, his eyes dark with desire.
“Yes… Please, don’t stop.” I nod quickly, guiding his head closer to where I need him most.
A low chuckle leaves him, but it fades the moment I shrug off my robe to give him more to play with.
Back home, I would have slept in something simple. A tank top and shorts in the summer, and pajamas in the winter. The only clothes I have here are the ones Matteo bought for me. When I picked out this silk nightgown earlier, I thought it would keep the summer heat at bay, the silk cool against my skin. Butnow I’m not so sure if the real reason I wore it wasn’t with this precise moment in mind.
