Fuck.
“Matteo,” I tear my mouth from his. “This—this?—”
I can’t finish the thought. He’s heaven and ruin tangled together, everything I crave and everything that will undo me.
His mouth drops to my breast. He takes my nipple between his lips and sucks hard, teeth biting down just enough to send heat ripping through my body, pleasure detonating low and fast.
His pace quickens. His mouth kisses parts of my skin, leaving his mark everywhere he touches.
“Mine,” he growls, driving into me harder now. “All. Fucking. Mine.”
Each word lands with a brutal thrust, and I meet every one, taking him just as fiercely.
“Look at me,” he demands, pushing deeper, rougher. “I want to see you come undone while I fill you.”
And I do.
I lock my eyes on his, wide, shaking, already unraveling again. He drives into me over and over, every stroke deliberate, possessive, like he’s carving his name into me. And I let him. I’ve been his since the night we met on that rooftop.
My nails bite into his shoulders. Thought disappears. Breath disappears. There’s only sensation.
“Matteo!”
“That’s it, baby,” he pants. “Take it all.”
My body clenches around him, tight and desperate, like it wants to keep him there forever. I could live in this moment.
“Who do you belong to, Beatrice?”
“Matteo,” I moan, the word barely making it out.
“Again,” he snaps, thrusting harder. “Who do you belong to?”
“You!” I scream. “I’m yours, Matteo.”
“Come for me,” he growls. “Unravel for me.”
The climax hits like lightning—violent, blinding. I cry out, clinging to him as pleasure tears through me, my body shaking against the cold tile.
He follows with a raw shout of his own. “Fuck, amore—fuck.”
We ride it out together, every wave shared, every tremor matched.
When my legs finally hold me again, he guides me out of the shower and to the sink, wraps a towel around my body and pulls me back against him, towel to towel, solid and warm.
I wipe the steam from the mirror and stare at our reflection. His arms slide around me, his chin resting on my shoulder, his lips brushing my damp skin.
“Look at us, amore,” he murmurs. I meet his eyes in the glass. “Seven years later, and I’m still as madly in love with you as I was back then.”
My chest tightens. “So much has changed,” I say softly. “But you still feel the same.”
“You are my northern star, Beatrice Davacalli,” he says quietly. “As long as I have you, I will survive any storm. Nothing will break me.”
The lightin his eyes is unmistakable, steady and infinite. Mine mirror it now, a sharp contrast to the despair that lived there only hours ago.
“Ti amo,” I whisper. “Forever.”
“Forever.” He presses a kiss to my cheek, then takes my hand and leads me back into our room. “There’s something I want to show you.”
