“You feel this between us, don’t you?” Matteo moved his hand beneath the table until his fingers gripped the top of one of her slender thighs. “Don’t you?” he compelled when he felt the trembling of her flesh beneath his palm.
Her expression was pained. “I do, but I can’t explain why I do…”
“Neither can I,” he acknowledged abruptly. “Only that it’s there, just below the surface, and between us all the time. It was there from the moment we looked at each other in the bookstore earlier. It became more intense the moment I first touched you, and it went off the charts when I kissed you. When we kissed each other.”
“Yes…” she acknowledged shakily.
“Forget who I am,” he pleaded. “Let’s just have dinner and spend an enjoyable evening getting to know who we can be together.”
“I can’t forget—”
Matteo silenced her by once again pressing his mouth against hers. Lips that trembled beneath his at first before she gave a low groan and her lips parted to allow him to deepen the kiss.
Matteo forgot their surroundings, the other diners in the restaurant, as he curved his other arm about her waist and pulled her in tightly against him. His whole attention was now focused on kissing Grace, on convincing her not to walk away from him.
He had never wanted anything, never craved anyone, as much as he now wanted Grace. As much as he wanted to keep her in his life. For however long she would let him.
Fuck Leon Brunelli.
To hell with this arranged marriage to the other man’s daughter; nothing had been officially announced yet.
Damn tomorrow and what it might bring.
Grace, and the way she made him feel, possessive and at the same time blessed to have even met her, was all that mattered to Matteo right now.
The cosmos might be fucking with him right now, but he had spent the past nine years doing what he was told in order to protect Bella. His sister no longer needed his protection, and Matteo would do whatever he needed to in order to keep Grace.
The perfume of her arousal invaded his senses once again, dispelling the last of his caution. Her bare skin felt silky soft beneath his fingers when he moved the material of her skirt out of his way, allowing him the freedom to caress and explore that bared flesh. Her panties seemed to be nothing more than a piece of lace through which Matteo could feel the heat of her pussy, that scrap of lace easily pushed aside beneath his questing fingertips.
His cock, already half hard just from kissing her, now surged to full and engorged attention as he stroked along her moist and swollen pussy lips. Before seeking out and finding the hardened nubbin nestled beneath its protective hood amongst the dampness of her curls.
Matteo pushed back that hood, feeling Grace’s tension as his fingers stroked against the sensitive nubbin beneath until he felt it swell bigger. He pressed harder, his fingers quickening, until seconds later, he was rewarded by Grace’s breathy groan against his lips followed by the gush of her juices onto his fingers and palm as she climaxed.
They were both panting heavily when Matteo rested his forehead against hers. “We can be and do whatever the hell we want together,” he firmly answered her earlier protest. “Can’t we?”
Grace’s head felt too befuddled for her to be able to think clearly, and her body was a melted puddle of satiated pleasure.
What on earth…?
She had just physically climaxed in a public restaurant!
Grace quickly glanced around to see if anyone was looking at them. If anyone knew what she had just done. What they had just done, because she certainly hadn’t done that on her own.
“No one is taking any interest in us whatsoever,” Matteo assured huskily as he pulled his fingers from inside her panties, holding her gaze with his as he then raised them to his mouth and slowly lick off the slickness of her juices. “Mm, delicious.”
Grace watched him in mute horror. She didn’t behave like this. Never brought attention to herself.
What sort of hold did this man have on her that she could have behaved with such wanton abandon in a public place?
A wanton abandon her body ached for again as she watched Matteo licking his fingers until he had tasted and swallowed all her release.
What sort of influence, or fear, did Matteo Zalotti have over other people that they weren’t even looking at the two of them even a little bit askance?
“That has nothing to do with who I am. It’s just secluded and shadowed in this corner,” Matteo rasped, alerting Grace to the fact that she had spoken that last thought out loud.
Her mouth twisted. “Do you always sit at this table for that reason?”
His eyes narrowed at her scornful tone. “You heard Mama. I haven’t eaten here in years. All I did was ask Mama for a romantic table for two.”
No wonder Mama Benito had smiled at her so coyly when the two of them arrived!
“I’m leaving.” Grace turned to pick up her bag and sling the strap over her shoulder.
Matteo placed a hand on her arm. “We haven’t eaten yet.”
Grace’s glare shot daggers at him, heated embarrassment burning her cheeks. “Oh, I think one of us just had his first course,” she reminded him.
“I’m sorry. I just needed to touch you—”
“I’m not interested in hearing why you did what you did.” She slid along the bench seat until she was out of the booth and able to stand. Except her knees gave way beneath her the moment she tried to put her weight on them, causing her to grab hold of the edge of the table to regain her balance.
“Don’t attempt to contact me again,” she warned once she felt steady enough to let go of the table.
She forced herself to stand straight, not looking at Matteo again before turning on her heel and walking out of the restaurant with all the
