When we finally landed in New York, I was back to being royally pissed again. I barely glanced at Gianna as we took my Porsche Cayenne back to our apartment building. Every time I caught a glimpse down her shirt to the soft swell of her breasts, I almost lost my shit. I needed to get a grip on myself. It didn’t matter what Gianna had done before today. Now she was mine, and if I didn’t put a stop to my rising wrath, I’d only do something that I’d regret later on.
Gianna
Matteo had a strange look on his face whenever he glanced my way. I couldn’t really put my finger on it, but somehow it made me nervous. Of course I pretended I didn’t notice anything.
Aria had tried to talk me into telling Matteo the truth throughout the entire duration of our flight, and even now that we were pulling into the underground garage of the apartment building, she was still giving me meaningful looks. I was worried that she’d take it into her own hands to share my secret with Matteo, but she knew I’d see it as a breach of my confidence and so I hoped she’d hold herself back.
Matteo took my hand when I got out of the car and practically dragged me toward the elevator. Aria and Luca had trouble keeping up with our pace. I had a feeling I knew why Matteo was so eager to reach his apartment. We all piled into the elevator. It started moving and Matteo’s dark eyes watched me in the mirror, something hungry and furious gleaming in their depth. The hunger was inexplicable to me. I looked a mess. Shadows under my eyes, fat lip, pale skin.
Maybe I should have felt more anxious, but I only wanted to get this over with. Maybe Matteo would even lose interest in me once he’d had me, though part of me wondered if I’d really be happy if Matteo suddenly started ignoring me.
The elevator stopped with a bling and the sleek doors glided open. Without another word, Matteo pulled me into his apartment. I threw a glance over my shoulder and caught sight of Aria’s worried expression moments before the closing elevator doors hid her from my view. Matteo led me toward a door to our right. I barely had time to take in the modern furniture and stunning view of New York before we rushed into the bedroom and Matteo flung the door shut. The desire in his eyes made it clear that he wouldn’t take no for an answer tonight.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Gianna
Nobody had ever looked at me like that, like I was the only source of water in a time of drought. And by God, I enjoyed it. Part of me at least, the other part, the stubborn part, wanted to hang onto my anger and sadness and indignation, and not give a damn about Matteo’s desire for me.
In the last twenty-four hours my dreams had been crushed and an innocent life had been taken. I felt like it was my duty to fight this marriage, and the tingling that flooded my body whenever Matteo touched me. I owed it to Sid, and to my own self-respect. I’d fought too hard and long to be free.
Before I could make up my mind about what I was going to do, Matteo jerked me against him and claimed my mouth in a fierce kiss that made me gasp, then tense. His tongue slipped between my lips, and without wanting to I opened up for him, parted my lips, wrestled his tongue with mine. My hands found their way into his hair, tugging, raking, wanting him closer and at the same time wanting to shove him away.
Matteo gripped my butt and hoisted me up. My legs wound themselves around his waist, but our lips never parted. My body was aflame with lust. No kiss before had even come close to this. Matteo started walking, carrying me toward his bed.
Fight him, Gianna. Fight this. You owe it to Sid.
But I was sick of fighting for today, sick of my emotions. Today I only wanted to feel, let my body take control, forget everything for a few hours at least. There would be plenty of time for resistance later in this marriage.
Matteo threw me down on the bed and the air left my lungs in a rush, but I didn’t get much time to recover because suddenly he was on top of me and his lips were back. His hand slipped under my shirt, fingertips gracing my stomach, then the sensitive skin over my ribs. He cupped my breast through my bra and I arched against him. He pulled away, and I barely managed to suppress a sound of protest. He seemed to know it though. He smiled in that arrogant way as he pushed my shirt up over my head and unhooked my bra. My nipples hardened and his smile widened even more.
Annoyance shot through me. He seemed so damn sure of himself, certain of his victory over me. He had another think coming.
“What would you do if I told you ‘no’?” I asked in a challenging tone.
I’d expected fury or annoyance in return.
“You won’t,” he said without a hint of doubt in his voice. I glared but he didn’t give me the time for a nasty retort. He lowered his head over my breasts and sucked one erect nipple into his mouth. A moan slipped out before I could stop myself and Matteo didn’t allow me any time to gather myself, to raise my defenses. His mouth was relentless. The sensations rippling through my body were almost too much. How could he make me feel like that? His tongue circled my nipple before moving on to the other, leaving a wet trail between my breasts. I shivered. Matteo’s eyes were glued to my face. He wanted to see me surrender to him, wanted to enjoy this victory to the very last. I resisted the urge to close my eyes. He would have seen it as another victory. I wouldn’t give him that as well. He gently bit down on my nipple and I moaned, even louder than the first time.
With a self-satisfied grin, he moved lower, dipping his tongue into my belly button. I squealed like an idiot girl and tried to squirm away from him, but his hands came down on my hips, holding fast, as his tongue found every ticklish place on my stomach and hips. I was laughing so hard, tears were pooling in my eyes. I had expected him to be rougher after what he’d witnessed, had almost wished for it, but this playful side? That scared me because he seemed likeable, even loveable. I pushed at his forehead. “Stop it!” I gasped between laughter.
“What’s the magic word?” he murmured against a particularly ticklish place right above my hip bone.
“Fuck you,” I said sweetly. I braced myself but it didn’t stop the squeals and laughs when Matteo traced his tongue over my hip bone. I was on the verge of begging when suddenly he stopped his assault. He unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down. His eyes traveled over my legs, and his hands followed the same path, barely brushing my skin. His motions were almost reverent; I didn’t get it. Disgust and fury, those I would have understood.
When he kissed me through my panties, I became very still. I knew what he wanted to do. Nobody had ever done that. It felt very personal, as if I had to bare myself to him in more than just the physical sense, and I couldn’t do it, wouldn’t do it, no matter how much my body craved the experience. Matteo gripped my panties and slid them down my legs. He sat back for a moment, admiring me. “I’d wondered if you were a redhead.”
I rolled my eyes, despite the flush spreading in my cheeks. “Isn’t that what every man wonders?”
I realized a moment too late that mentioning other men wasn’t the best idea in my current situation.
“How did you explain that to the other guys you’ve been with? Brown on top and red down below?” His voice and eyes had become harder, dangerous.
Nobody’s ever seen me like this. The words lay on the tip of my tongue. “I thought you wanted to fuck me. I’m not in the mood for chitchat.”