Page 113 of Matteo

“Oh, babe.” He grinds against me, and the feel of his hardness excites me even more. Heat and unbridled desire unleash, and we're on each other, hands exploring urgent and reckless. We've held back for too long and now there's no stopping us.

His hands slip down, and I mewl against his lips as he reaches down and helps me out of my sweatshirt. I try to help him out of his T, but he’s too big, and too tall, for me to pull it entirely over his head, so he does it.

Then he stands before me, topless, with his artwork and muscles on display, tempting and teasing me.

The throbbing between my legs turns into a dull ache. I've already seen and stroked the two Latin inscriptions on the inside of his wrists. But now my fingers trace over the ink running across his forearms. “Are you going to tell me what these mean now?”

Defiant, hooded eyes stare back at me. “What do you want to know?”

“Feathers. Four of them …”

“One for each of my brothers, and my mom.”

“Oh.”

Why does every answer of his lead me to more questions? I decide not to dig too deep yet. “And this?” My fingers skate over the cracked compass on his other forearm.

“Who doesn't need a sense of direction?” he replies.

That's not a satisfying answer and more questions float around in my head.

My hand moves along his chest, across the lines and patterns all over it, and then I move around him, behind him, and gasp when I see an oak tree inked across his skin. Because his back is so broad, tapering at his waist into a perfect V, the tree stretches from shoulder to shoulder, its roots twisting down his spine and its branches spreading across powerful muscles, making it look almost alive.

I can't stop staring, but I can't look away. Every tattoo feels like a code I’m bursting to decipher. I want to ask so much, and yet now doesn’t seem like the right time.

He can tell me when he's ready.

I walk around to face him. “Are there more?” I ask, pouting up at him. “When we were trapped you told me you were inked all over.”

“None below the waist. Would you like to examine me all over?”

Can I breathe?

Is the sky blue?

Every single part of me screams ‘yes!’

Heat floods my body, twisting low in my stomach. My pulse races and suddenly I can't think straight. I reach between us, and brush my hand over the hard outline between his legs.

“Do I have your approval to touch this?” I remember his words to me on my first day in the tech lab.

But he grabs my wrist gently instead, his gaze dropping to my bra and he pulls me to him. Our mouths clamp together again and we're a mess of hands working furiously to open each other's button and zippers. My jeans are so tight, they might as well be sprayed on me. He’ll struggle to take them off, so I do it for him. My panties come off with them.

I'm naked before he is, and his eyes light up with delight as he surveys me with his mouth hanging open.

Then, he lowers his head and gently kisses my jawline, before his lips lower and brush my neck. I tilt my chin upwards, letting him drop kisses all over my shoulders and collarbone, moving lower and lower still. He peels down one of my bra cups and his lips greedily latch onto my breast. My back arches as he sucks hungrily, feral noises coming from deep in his throat.

His mouth suctioned to my nipple is a feeling so divine, that I could come from this alone. I've been waiting weeks for this, but it’s not enough to satisfy the aching throb between my legs. I need something bigger, and right now, this isn't enough.

He gently pushes me back onto the bed, peels my panties off, but he’s still in his boxers, and that's not fair.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasps, moving beside me and claiming my mouth again, shoving his tongue inside, driving me mad with desire. His thumb brushes my nipples, the electric touch sending shockwaves along my skin. I realize I’m suddenly naked. I don’t even remember him taking off my bra, but it’s gone.

I’m completely naked. His fingers slide between my slippery folds, making me moan long and deep. It’s too much; his tongue in my mouth, his fingers inside me.

I can’t think. I can only feel. My entire body is engulfed in sensation and need. Every nerve ending alive and fizzing with want.

“Take them off,” I pant, managing to come up for air.