Page 46 of Tempting Tessa

“I’m going to make you do it everywhere.”

He brings the wineglass to my mouth, and I drink, just to show I can play this game as well as he can.

I cut my steak, sip my wine, and try to keep my legs together under the table. He eats with one hand while the other keeps inching up the inside of my thigh until his fingers are pressed to the damp crotch of my panties and I’m certain anybody walking past could clock exactly what’s happening. I should swat him away, make a scene, but the heat pooling in my gut makes my bones go soft and rubbery.

I’m already halfway wet and he hasn’t even said anything filthy yet.

Matteo’s thumb strokes lazy circles, not enough to get me off, just a constant reminder that he can. I swallow another bite and almost choke when he casually says, “Take off your panties.”

I nearly choke. “Excuse me?”

He doesn’t flinch. “You heard me.”

“No.” I go for a laugh but it comes out harsh, like my throat’s already dry from the thought.

His eyes flick to the side, a warning that he’s not playing. “That wasn’t a request, Contessa. Do it.”

He’s not loud, but fuck if the words don’t vibrate all the way to my spine. I set my fork down, making a show of dabbing my lips with the napkin. “You’re deranged.”

He shrugs. “You want to add public disobedience to your punishment? Be my guest. But I’d rather not spank you in the restaurant restroom but I fucking will.”

The instant mental image—me, bent over the granite sink, dress hiked up, his palm printing my ass red—makes my thighs clamp so hard I’m surprised the table doesn’t shake. I hate how quickly he gets to me, how he can short-circuit three degrees and a lifetime of therapy with two sentences and a look.

I glance around. No one’s looking, but I know better than to assume anything in Matteo’s world is ever truly private.

“Right here?” I hiss.

He grins, sharp and wolfish. “Yes, stellina.”

I want to say I’ll wait. I want to say I’m not some girl who’ll slip her underwear off at a table because her father’s best friend tells her to. But the pressure between my legs is already too much, and if I’m honest, I want him to know exactly how wet I am from a single command.

So I shift, slow, and let my right hand slide under the table, bunching the hem of my dress higher. Inch by inch, the silk slides up my thighs. He tracks every millimeter like a predator, and when I finally hook a thumb into the band of my panties he leans back, arms stretched across the booth, giving me the floor, as if to say ‘show me’.

I tug them down, careful not to flash the entire restaurant, and shimmy them over my knees. The table’s too low for modesty, so I just step out, balled-up lace clutched in my fist.

I look him dead in the eye, daring him to mock me. “Happy now?”

He crooks a finger. “Not yet. Hand them over.”

I glance under the table, half ready to launch the panties at him like a grenade, but he’s watching me with that dead-cold mafia king stare. He tilts his head, eyes flicking to the table, then back up at me.

“Above the table, Contessa. Let’s not pretend.”

It’s less a suggestion and more a dare. I know damn well who’s watching, who’s not, who’ll pretend they never saw a thing out of respect or fear or just because they know if they mention it, they’ll end up at the bottom of the ocean.

Still, it’s not exactly subtle. The panties are tiny—purple, a couple of shades lighter than my hair. Drenched, too, which is humiliating and hot at the same time.

“Matteo—”

He fixes me with a look that says don’t make me repeat myself.

I swallow, lift my hand above the table, and set the panties onto the white linen like I’m making a goddamn offering. My imagination has the lace making a wet sound as it hits the tablecloth.

“Slide them over, little star.”

He says it like a joke, but the way his eyes bore into me, I know he means it.

I push the panties toward him, slowly, like it’s a chess piece and not a piece of my damp, ruined dignity. The lace bunches a little, leaves a faint sheen on the pristine linen before his hand lands on them, big and tanned, veins bulging under the skin.