12. Liliana

Chapter 12

Liliana

I had that dream again. The one where I felt him touch me, felt Matteo dragging his lips and tongue across my face and neck. It felt so good.

He feels so good.

I stretched, my eyes fluttering open as I stared into the darkened room. I could see it was still the middle of the night by the lack of light coming through the crack in the curtains. The bedside clock showed it was just past midnight.

I sat up and pushed the stray hairs that had fallen out of my ponytail from my face. My heart was beating a little faster, and I was slick between my thighs.

The dream had been so vivid although, in my mind's eye, I couldn't see much but his big, looming figure hovering over mine. I couldn't focus on anything but the sensation of his fingers and mouth on me and how I wanted to say fuck it all and let Matteo have his way with me.

I looked around the room, feeling that tightening on the back of my neck as if I weren't alone. But I saw nothing aside from darkened corners and a lot of emptiness.

After using the restroom, I made my way back to the bed and sat on the edge, but I still felt that tingling on my nape. My breathing picked up as the sensation intensified.

I wasn't alone. I knew that down to my marrow.

My entire body was tense, and my skin tingled as if ants crawled up and down my body.

"You look beautiful in any light," the deep, dark voice said from behind me.

I was proud of myself for not moving and for not showing any outward sign that he startled me, that I was a little frightened, or that I was so aroused my inner thighs were slick because of it.

"Look at me," he commanded.

I closed my eyes and didn't move for long seconds. Finally, because it was as if his words were this tether and he pulled me to do his bidding, I shifted on the bed and faced forward. At first, I saw nothing, but the longer I sat there, the more my vision adjusted to the shadowy interior.

Then I saw him standing in the corner, his enormous body blending in with the shadows as if he were made for the night.

"You like creeping into girls' bedrooms and watching them sleep?" My voice was soft, my words holding zero accusation or heat. How would he feel if he knew I was getting more turned on by the fact he stood there watching me?

"I like watching you , Liliana." He stepped out from the corner but was still shrouded in blackness. "I like watching you every night."

I envisioned him smirking just then, as if he knew something I didn't.

My lips tingled, and I touched them, running the pad over my bottom lip as everything slowly sank in.

"Adoro il tuo profumo." I love the way you smell. He moved closer. "Divento così duro quando ti tocco." And I get so hard at the way you feel. He came even closer until he stood at the end of the bed. He leaned forward and gripped the footboard.

I was visibly breathing hard then. I could feel my chest rising and falling harder and faster the longer he stared at me. He wore a dark-colored shirt and what appeared to be lounge pants. But his relaxed attire didn't fool me.

I knew how dangerous Matteo was whether he was killing in a three-piece suit or sweats and a T-shirt.

"You've been kissing me," I whispered but it was more to myself. "It was never a dream."

He chuckled low and deep. Humorlessly. "Sweet, naive girl. You and I both know it wasn't a dream, even if you tried telling yourself that."

He moved to stand before me. I scanned his body and saw that, although he wore lounge attire, I'd noticed a gun tucked at his side, the metal peeking out from under his shirt, the violence from it tangible.

He took another step forward. All I could do was sit there and tip my head back to stare into his torturously handsome face.

For long seconds, he didn't speak. Neither did I. We just stared at each other, as if silently coming to some kind of agreement.

"You can always say no," Matteo finally said.

I knew what he meant, yet I said nothing.

He smirked and reached out, gripped my ponytail, and wrapped it around his wrist. "That's my good girl," he murmured.

And I melted right then at hearing that praise. It was only four words, but they caused such a visceral reaction in me that a moan was pulled from my throat and spilled out.

Matteo took a step back, and I felt an instant rush of coldness consume me. It felt wrong not having him close. I questioned my sanity.

"You can always say no," he said again, and although I didn't verbally say anything, I shook my head in response. It was a subconscious act but one that had the corner of his mouth smirking.

I knew he wouldn't give me another out.

"Then keep being my good girl and show me that little pussy."