Page 95 of The Fall Affair

“Cristo,” he hissed. “You’re already dripping for me.”

His fingers rubbed up and down my tender center, then dipped inside of me. My hands were splayed wide on the glass that looked out on the city, but my gaze stayed fixed on the reflection of the man behind me. Matteo pumped in and out, watching my face.

“You drive me mad,” he murmured, his voice rough and his accent thicker than usual.

His fingers pulled out of me and stroked my swollen clit.

“Matteo…”

“Si, amore,” he whispered in my ear. “Tell me what you want.”

I swallowed. “You. I want you inside me.”

He sucked his way down my neck, teeth grazing along my sensitive skin, before nipping at my shoulder. I let out a mewl, and Matteo slipped one hand under my shirt, cupping my breast and tugging at my nipple.

The city bustled below, but up here, all I heard was ragged breaths and the thrum of my own pulse. The clank of his belt buckle, followed by the sound of his zipper lowering might’ve been the sexiest thing I’d heard in a long time. I trembled when he shoved his jeans to the floor, and I felt his hard cock push against me.

“Please…”

“You will never have to beg for what you want with me, Allegra.”

Matteo guided himself to my opening and surged forward, sliding into me in one deep thrust. He turned my head to the side and kissed me as he pumped in and out. What started as slow and sensual quickly turned hard and fast. Matteo pulled out almost to the tip and then pushed back in, rough and deep. When he reached around to rub my clit, I felt myself climbing toward orgasm.

“Matteo…”

I rocked with him, pushing back to meet each rhythmic thrust. Nothing had ever felt so good because Matteo wasn’t just inside me between my legs, he was filling my heart with hope and possibility. Every moment, every whispered word against my skin chipped away at the walls I’d built around myself. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel afraid of what came next—I wanted it. I wanted him.

I moaned my way through my orgasm, saying his name over and over. I was completely lost in the moment and completely lost to the man behind me. Matteo kept going until long after the last quake had wrung through my body, and I had nothing left to give. Only then did he work for his own climax, sinking deep and unloading inside me. I could feel the heat of him seeping from the inside out.

After, I sagged against him, feeling boneless, my palms sliding down the glass and leaving handprints behind.

Matteo kissed the top of my head. “New York,” he said softly. “Maybe I love it now.”

***

The following day, I gave Matteo the grand tour of my city. The only time he’d visited, he’d done super touristy things like visit Times Square and go to the Statue of Liberty. So I decided to show him the places I loved. A few were still touristy—Bethesda Fountain, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, a walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. But some were places visitors didn’t know about, like the garden we were currently en route to in the Village.

We were in Grand Central, walking through the arched entryway nearest the Oyster Bar. The vaulted ceilings overhead echoed the steady sound of commuters going in all directions as we headed to the six train.

“Wait, come here.” I tugged Matteo over to one of the corners, standing him up against the tile. He immediately wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him.

“Nice,” he said and lowered his mouth to mine. “This is my favorite attraction of the day.”

I laughed and gave him a chaste kiss. “I almost forgot about the whispering walls. I haven’t told them any secrets in a long time.”

Matteo’s brows furrowed. “You tell secrets to the walls?”

“I know, it sounds strange, but it’s a thing. If you whisper a secret here…” I pointed to the wall diagonally across the wide hall. “I’ll be able to hear it all the way over there. It’s the way it was built. The vaulted arches create the perfect acoustics for sound to travel. When I was a kid, my friends and I used to take the train to school together, and we’d change trains here in Grand Central. We’d collect gossip all week, and then on Friday afternoon, my best friend, Bridget, and I would each take a corner, and we’d take turns whispering all the dirt to each other through these walls.”

Matteo looked at the constant flow of people walking by. “Even with all these people?”

“Yup. I’ll show you.” I pointed to the adjacent corner. “You stay here, and I’ll go over there and tell you a secret.”

He looked amused but shrugged. “Okay.”

I dodged people to cross to the entrance to the other hallway—it had to be at least fifteen feet away, and there was no shortage of people talking and train sounds. Once I was in the corner, I looked over at Matteo and gestured for him to turn around and face the wall. Then I leaned close and whispered.

“I love showing you New York.”