“Shhh, there you go,meraviglia,” he says, hitting my clit with his palm as his fingers bottom out inside of me. “Breathe through it, but not too loudly. We don’t want anyone to hear us, do we? I’ll have to stop if they do.”
My head shakes in a panickedno, and I suck back a shaky breath. Just as I’m composing myself, his fingers curl up hard, his fingertips pressing against the ceiling of my sensitive pussy. It’s almost too much.
“Matteo,” I gasp, hips bucking up. “That’s not f-fair.”
“Mmm,” he hums. “You’re so close, Anya. I can feel it. Say my name for me again and I’ll get you there. Come on, I want to hear it. It sounds so fucking sweet on your lips.”
“Matteo,” I breathe, hands clutching the blanket beneath me. He rewards me by thrusting his fingers faster and deeper, forcing me to bite my lip and smother louder moans. “Matteo?—”
“That’s my girl,” he groans quietly, voice low and deep. “You like this? You like fucking my hand, baby? Can you imagine how much better my dick will feel? There’s no way you’d be able to keep this pretty little mouth shut while I have you stuffed full.”
“I want that,” I confess through a whimper. I should be scared of the prospect, but no fear comes.
“One day,” he says, his jaw flexing hard. “Come for me, Anya. Show me what you’ll do to my cock when I finally earn the right to put it in you.”
His command comes with an earnest effort to make me turn into a puddle before him, leaving no room to deny his order. The wet sounds of my pussy being played with fill the room, along with a stream of moans and whines that cannot be held back. It doesn’t take long before his skill and determination send me tumbling toward the edge.
My legs try to slam shut but get caught around his hips as my pussy constricts hard, pulsing around his fingers. My thighs tremble and moisture seems to gush around his hand as he fucksme through my peak. I almost spasm through my final moans, breathing hard and broken as I’m thrown into reality-shattering pleasure.
When it all finally ends, Matteo pulls his fingers out of me and I slump deeper into the bed, panting as I try to catch my breath. Eyes widening, I watch as he slips his drenched pointer and middle finger into his mouth, sucking them so tightly that his cheeks hollow.
“Oh my God,” I gasp as his eyes go darker and heated at my taste on his tongue.
“Scandalized, baby?” he asks, rolling from between my legs to lay on the bed next to me. “Don’t be. Next time I’m going to get my taste straight from the source.”
I can’t even think about the prospect without squeezing my thighs together. “That was so…” I trail off to take in a raged breath. “Is it meant to be so amazing?”
“With me it is, baby. Withus, it is.”
“Oh,” I breathe out. “That’s nice.”
When he goes to kiss me again, I’m suddenly jolted into a new reality. I’m buried under my blankets, the room darker than before, and no Matteo in sight. A dream, I quickly realize.
Of course it was a dream.
Sadness quickly washes away any of the remaining floaty lust from my imagination. I should have known as soon as I wasn’t scared to go so far with him that it wasn’t real. I might faint if Matteokissedme, let alone touched me and talked about having sex with me.
No matter how much I might want…I can’t want it.
I don’t know how it could be possible.
Just the idea of him seeing my scars is enough to make my stomach hurt. I’m not ready for this, even if my dreams want to taunt me with what I cannot have. Because I can’t have it.
Can I?
One thing is for sure, I’m falling for Matteo Moretti. And if I ever want what just happened in my sleep to become a reality, I have a lot of work to do.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Anya
Determination fills me where fear and sadness typically would. When I couldn’t fall back asleep last night, I began to plot instead. I have a problem, and it will only get worse if I do nothing to fix it.
I’m still reeling from the intensity of my dream when I make my way into Tiffany’s office. I’m tired from my lack of sleep, but I also feel cut open and vulnerable. Not from the lust-fueled images that still linger in my mind, but from what I know I need to do now.
I’ve already decided that we’ll talk to my father in a few minutes, but I need to make sure that my doctor thinks my idea is smart before I commit to it. Though, I’m afraid that my mind has already been made up. I know what I need to do, and I can’t do it here.
“Hello, Anya,” Tiffany greets, her voice full of welcome and warmth. She watches as I take my regular seat, her kind eyes assessing the state of me, looking for anything she mightfind concerning. “You asked to meet earlier than our regularly scheduled time. How are you feeling?”
