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His animated gestures and expressive storytelling had me in fits of laughter, and I couldn't help but admire how charismatic and charming he could be.
Throughout the evening, our conversation flowed effortlessly from one topic to another.
We discussed our favorite movies, shared our opinions on the latest tech gadgets, and even delved into the age-old debate of cats versus dogs.
As we finished dessert, Matteo leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a seductive whisper. "You know, Sophia, this has been an incredible evening, but there's something I've been dying to do since we got here."
I raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Oh? What's that?"
Without a word, Matteo gently slid his fingers beneath the table, intertwining them with mine. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't deny the fluttering sensation in my stomach.
Leaning even closer, he spoke softly, his lips brushing against my ear. "Dance with me."
My heart skipped a beat as he stood up and extended his hand. The restaurant's ambiance had shifted to a more romantic mood, with soft music playing in the background.
I took his hand, allowing him to lead me to a small, improvised dance floor near our table. As the soft, romantic melody filled the restaurant, Matteo and I swayed together in perfect harmony.
Our bodies moved gracefully, the music guiding us, and it felt like time stood still.
His eyes, locked onto mine, held an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. Slowly, he drew me closer, our bodies pressed tightly together. I could feel his chest's gentle rise and fall, matching our dance's rhythm.
Our lips met in a sweet and passionate kiss when he lowered his head. Our mouths moved together, a gentle exploration of each other's warmth. His lips were soft, and the taste of him was a heady mix of desire and promise.
The world outside faded away as we lost ourselves in that kiss, our breaths mingling. When we finally pulled away, our smiles mirrored our joy.
Our dance continued. Matteo's eyes never left mine, and as we danced, I felt the world around us fade away, leaving only the two of us lost in the moment.
As the song ended, we slowed our dance, our foreheads gently touching. I felt an overwhelming affection for the man before me in that intimate moment.
The restaurant buzzed around us with the clinking of cutlery and the murmur of conversations, but in our little cocoon of shared glances and smiles, it felt like we were the only ones in the room.
Matteo's eyes held mixed emotions, including desire, which he did not try to conceal. His voice, low and inviting, broke the silence. "Should we head back home?"
I bit my lower lip, a soft, anticipatory thrill coursing me. "Yes," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
We lingered for a moment, aware that the night was far from over, and the heated atmosphere of the restaurant only seemed to heighten the tension between us.
With fingers still entwined, we rose from our table, ready to continue the evening's adventure beyond the restaurant's confines. In that heated gaze, I couldn't help but think that Keisha's joking wish about keeping my dress on throughout the night was not going to be fulfilled.
As we stepped into the cozy embrace of his home, Matteo, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, disappeared into the kitchen. He returned moments later, holding a tub of ice cream and a single spoon.
I raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Dessert?"
He chuckled, his smile playful. "Why not?"
With a casual shrug of his shoulders, he opened the tub of ice cream and scooped a generous portion onto the spoon before putting it in his mouth.
My eyes focused on how his lips wrapped out the spoon and how his throat bobbed as he swallowed the delicious, cold treat. Scooping another portion of ice cream onto the spoon, he held it out to me.
Matteo’s eyes sparked, and his mouth curved in a smirk. It wasn’t until he raised an eyebrow in urging that I opened for him.
“Brava ragazza (Good girl),” Matteo murmured in Italian as he slid his spoon into my mouth.
Even though I couldn't understand what he said, his praise was evident in how he looked at me, which stirred something within me.
A sense of pleasure and pride washed over me, making me desire to earn his praise again. At that moment, I was willing to do anything to see that approval in his eyes again.
So, I focused on licking the ice cream from Matteo's spoon. As I did, a realization dawned on me – that spoon had been inside his mouth.
