Page 32 of Cavaliere

This time, when I look into the bathroom mirror, I recognize the reflection staring back at me. My face is looking much better. I no longer look like I got my shit totally rocked. Maybe half-rocked, and I’ll take it. The bruising has faded into the ugly dark brown and yellow colors, but I’m pretty sure that concealer will take care of it.

This leads me to why I’m about to shower and get ready. I’m hoping if I put myself together a little, Matteo will be more inclined to side with me. The stubborn asshole.

As the hot water pours down my back while I stand in the shower, I reach forward and grab Matteo’s soap. I take a huge sniff like I always do. The aromas of the warm and spicy scent feel like they enter my bloodstream through my nose, leaving me feeling achy. An ache only he can satisfy. This is about the time I usually turn the water to cold and let the sensation freeze its way out of me.

But not this time.

No, this time, I leave the water hot. This time I let my hand slowly caress its way over my tits that are begging to be touched, over my soft tummy, and down until one finger strokes my soaking slit.

My mind drifts to the first night that I actually spent the night here as my head falls back and my eyes close. The night I came out of the bathroom and saw Matteo sitting on the bed in only a pair of tight gray boxers. Only this time, instead of staying seated, he gets up. His thighs flex as he saunters over to me, slipping a hand under my shirt, slowly trailing up my soft tummy, rubbing little circles as he goes with his thumb. Because in my fantasy, he likes my tummy. He likes the softness. The little jiggle.

I let out a soft moan as I circle my finger around my entrance before going back up to rub my throbbing clit.

Matteo’s hand dances across my chest, reaching my tits, rolling a nipple between his fingers as he finally leans in and takes my mouth. His tongue plunges in, demanding the control he craves. I give it willingly, only nipping at his bottom lip when I have an opening, earning me a growl that brings another surge of wetness.

I let out a gasp, slapping a hand on the shower wall to keep my balance as I rub my clit faster, the familiar tingling sensation I’m chasing starting at the base of my spine.

Matteo’s hand leaves my breast, quickly trailing back down and into my soaked panties. He roughly coats his fingers in my juices, wasting no time finding my entrance. After a few teasing circles that have me whimpering, he finally inserts them to the hilt, taking a moment for me to adjust to the stretch before he’s roughly thrusting in and out.

I cry out at the intrusion of my own fingers as they mimic the action. My walls clench my fingers hard as I come instantly, moaning out Matteo’s name.

My chest is still heaving up and down as I rinse off and get out of the shower. It wasn’t enough. I have a feeling no amount of orgasms I give myself will be enough to take the edge off.

I need the real thing.

Just to get it out of my system.

I need Matteo.

Too bad he’s a million fucking miles out of my league.

“I’m sure there are a million guys that want to be the one out there, Wren. You just need to get the fuck out there and forget about all of this,” I mumble to myself as I exit the bathroom, a fluffy towel wrapped tightly around me.

The sound of the bedroom door quietly shutting has me stopping dead in my tracks.

Oh my god.

Did he hear me?

“If there are any gods or goddesses watching me right now, please save me the embarrassment that might do me in,” I plead with no one as I look up at the ceiling.

Fuck me.

Chapter

Twenty-Three

MATTEO

“Holy shit,” I exhale as I adjust myself while jogging down the stairs, two steps at a time.

I just walked in on Wren getting off in the shower.

To me.

And fuck me if that wasn’t the sweetest noise I’ve ever heard. Her whimpers for me. Her crying out my name. It was over before it really even got started. My poor tesoro is so wound up from needing me.

A rumble erupts from my chest as I walk into my office and plop down into my chair.