Just months before I start medical school in Boston, I decide to let loose for one night. A dark club, a loud band, strong drinks--and the attention of a dangerous-looking man who says he's in the city for only a week.
I know exactly what he is: a...
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Matteo is achingly gentle as he sits up and pushes me onto the rug. I'm on my back, vulnerable and overpowered, and I don't give a damn.
For a few minutes, he hovers over me, with one hand propping himself up and the other lightly skimming my skin. I'm almost writhing now, needing more of his touch. He's not giving it yet, though, not bestowing his long fingers or his beautiful mouth. Stingy bastard. I want it all. Tease. That's what he's doing.
Teasing me mercilessly.
I let out an impatient little grunt.
"What?" he whispers, his eyes meeting mine. That smirk is back, paired with the slow roll of my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "What do you want?"
I shudder in a breath and shake my head.
He pauses, removing his hand from my breast, and I almost scream in frustration. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No, hell no," I hiss, leaning up to kiss him.
But he evades me with a chuckle and sits up. "Oh, that wasn't a stop noise. It was a, how do you say it? Horny noise?"
I giggle. "A horny frustrated noise."
"Let's do something about that, then. First," he moves to my feet and begins unlacing my boots. "These need to come off."
He takes his sweet time unlacing them, then slips one off my foot. I want to just kick and strip away everything touching my body and fuse myself to him, but he has other plans.
"Cute socks," he observes, holding up one of my feet. They're black-and-white striped. "And look at these little feet with the black nail polish."
He runs a finger down the sole of my foot. Normally I'm ticklish, but it seems that every touch of his sends an electric current through my body.
"Other foot," I say.
"You're quite demanding." He bites his lip and removes my other shoe and sock. "And what's all this?"
He tugs at my skirt-leggings combo.
"Layers. It's cold out."
"Are you still cold?"
No. I might spontaneously combust. I shake my head.
"So is this a one piece or what?" He pretends to lift my skirt, inspecting the fabric.
"Ugh, no. It's two." I push both the skirt and leggings down, and shove everything down my legs until I'm only in a pair of black lace panties. I settle back on the floor, my legs tightly closed.
"Ohhh." The word comes out as an appreciative growl. But instead of lowering himself down upon me, he sits on his knees and stares. For a second I think he's going to get up and leave, and then he undoes the final two buttons on his white shirt, slowly stripping it off.
