Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Matteo’s body pressed flush against mine, his hard chest against my back, heat searing through the thin material of my long skirt. He bent and slipped a hand under the hem, bunching it up to my waist. His other hand slid to my throat, fingers curving around it and holding tight as he nipped at my ear. This was a different Matteo than I’d experienced back in Tuscany. His desire seemed to match the pulse of the city, and I was here for it.
“Look at them,” he rasped against my ear. His fingers at my neck tightened the slightest bit. “All those people rushing around, never knowing how bellissima you’re going to look while I fuck you right here.”
I whimpered, and my hot breath fogged the glass as my thighs squeezed together. Matteo wedged his knee between my legs, forcing them open. His fingers dipped beneath the edge of my panties, and I gasped when he swiped at my wetness.
“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.”