“Were you expecting something else?”
“You saw the pictures, right? You know what they mean?”
“I saw them, yes. As to what they mean, I think they’re subjective.”
“Subjective? Seriously. You’ve been married two minutes, and he’s cheating on you, and you sit there all calm, and subjective is all you can come up with?”
“Matteo, I feel these photos have upset you more than me. Is there something you need to happen?”
“You can’t stay with him now. Surely loyalty means more than anything; have I not been loyal?” And there’s the reason he’s the one bringing me photos of my husband allegedly cheating on me. The thing is, I’ve licked every inch of that man since we got married, I’ve spent hours tracing every spot of ink on his body, and some of the tattoos in the pictures just aren’t right. His hair is slightly lighter than it is, and his eyes just don’t look right. His fingers look slim and too long. At a glance, they’re good, really good, but not good enough to convince me he’s cheating.
If I hadn’t paid as much attention to Matteo’s mannerisms when he walked in, I might have been duped. But I don’t believe for a second Vittorio has deceived me. I totally think this is a ploy to, I don’t know, get me to lose my shit, accuse him of cheating. It’s some conspiracy to have us at each other’s throats.
“You want me to fall apart, to cry on your shoulder? To rebound and fuck you? Here on this desk, against that wall?”
“You’re being ridiculous,” he snaps. “I just… I was hoping…”
“What were you hoping, Matteo?” I stand and walk around the desk and perch on the end of it. “That I’d throw myself at you, that I’d fuck you right here on this desk—would you alert Vittorio somehow so he’d catch us, and that would be my marriage over?” I scoff.
“He’s not a good guy, Arianna.”
“Do I look like a good girl to you?” I stand and step towards him. “Do I look like I’m easily fooled or manipulated, Matteo? Do you take me for some fool that can be deceived with Photoshop? Do you think I haven’t paid attention to every inch, and I mean every. Fucking. Inch. Of that man?” I step again and press my finger to his chest, pushing him back a step. “Now tell me how fucking loyal you are?”
I step closer and push the flat of my hand against his chest. “Whose side are you on, Matteo?”
The door clicks open, and Matteo’s eyes widen. My face contorts with barely restrained rage.
“Ahh, as if the fucking devil has summoned you himself.”
Matteo turns abruptly and storms past Vittorio, shoulder-checking him as he thunders past.
“What the fuck is wrong with him?”
I walk around the desk and drag the envelope from the drawer, toss it across the table, lean against it and cross my arms.
He pulls the photos out. The scowl that spreads across his face could start wars. “What the fuck are these?” He slams them down on the desk. “Where the fuck did you get them? Was it him?”
I step up against him. I slide my hand up and over his chest. “Hey. I trust you. I know they’re not real. That’s why he’s pissed because I didn’t react.”
He wraps his arms around me. “Is he going to be a problem?”
“If he does turn out to be a problem, I will get rid of him.”
“How did you know it wasn’t me?”
I roll my eyes at him. “The tats are wrong, the bend in your dick is different, and if that was your sex face, I would totally demand a divorce.”
He chuckles and pulls me tighter. I lean up and press my lips to his. I close my eyes and let myself relax into him, trust in him. I nip at his bottom lip, and he tightens his hold on me. His hand slides up and into the back of my hair, his fingers tighten against my scalp just the right amount of tension that makes me boneless against him. He grins against me as he tugs my hair to the side, tilting my head, giving him better access as he turns his attention to my neck, and he licks and nips at it as I moan.
My arms wrap around him, pulling him against me, grinding my body against his. He chuckles against my neck. As the tension between us leaves. We’re the only two people in the world, and nothing and no one can come between us.
As long as we have each other, we are stronger than the rest of them combined. I tug at his hair. “Sit down, Vittorio.”
His eyes twinkle as he lets me go and steps over to the chair. He turns and starts to push down his bottoms, and I chuckle. I step up to him and push him back so he drops into the chair. I drop to my knees and slide my hands up and over his thighs.
He stares down at me, mesmerised as I pick up his dick in my hand and lick from balls to weeping tip. I slide my tongue over his slit and suck on the end, taking all the precum into my mouth. His hands reach down and wrap in my hair; he gathers it into a ponytail on top of my head and uses it to steer me back down deeper on his dick.
He groans as I wrap my tongue around him, licking up his shaft as he lifts my head before pushing it back down again. I reach between his legs and stroke his balls. He starts to buck up into my face. I gag a little, and he groans.
