UNHOLY DESIRE

DEIRDRE

I paused by the doorway alongside Matteo, realizing we stood in front of what I assumed was his room.

With my arms crossed, I spoke up. “I thought we were going to discuss this in the living room.”

Matteo turned to me, his gaze assessing me. He remarked, “I should be the one concerned, considering you’re now wearing my things without permission. I can’t predict what else you might do.”

The audacity!

I clenched my teeth, unable to hold back. I shot him a glare. “You left me with no choice. And how dare you take my clothes? That was never part of the deal!”

“This is my home, my rules,” Matteo stated firmly.

“This is a mistake,” I muttered, shaking my head. He held the door open wider after entering.

I was reluctant to step in with him, but it seemed as though if I didn’t, he was going to make me.

As I stepped into the room, Matteo shut the door behind us. I stood close to it, still holding onto myself as if it could shield me from whatever might transpire in this room.

The space matched mine in size, but that was where the similarities ended. His bedroom emanated a refined masculinity. Charcoal gray walls provided an elegant backdrop, a custom mahogany bed with black sheets dominating the room’s center, and ebony nightstands held brass lamps. A meticulously arranged bookshelf and art pieces added a touch of sophistication.

My gaze fell on the plush gray rug, a perfect complement to the marble floor, before drifting back to Matteo, who cleared his throat.

“Wanna taste?” Matteo’s tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, and he began to unbutton his shirt.

For a fleeting moment, my thoughts strayed elsewhere, to his lips, his jawline, his chest, and his thighs, before I grimaced. He certainly wasn’t referring to any of those things I’d momentarily imagined. My mind had an unhelpful knack for conjuring such thoughts.

Matteo let out a low chuckle as he lifted the glass to his lips, taking a long sip of the brandy he’d poured before placing it on the table.

“She called me Daddy, Tua Moglie. Did you coerce her into doing so?” Matteo raised an eyebrow at me.

He slipped out of his shirt, tossed it onto the sofa, then proceeded to unbuckle his belt.

“What are you doing?” I murmured, glancing at his hands skillfully working the belt. The same hands that had done playful things to me.

“What does it look like?” Matteo replied. “And I asked you a question.”Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

“I did nothing to her,” I stated, reluctantly tearing my eyes away from his belt.

“You should know that abuse is a crime, and I don’t care if you are my wife…”

“Ex-wife,” I interjected.

Matteo pressed on as if I hadn’t spoken. “I don’t care if you are my wife, Deirdre. You will be held accountable for that.”

“Why would I ever harm my daughter?!” I glared at him.

“The same reason you led her to believe I’m a monster,” he countered, causing me to groan.

“Listen, Matteo, I never discussed you with Kendall. I don’t even know why she thinks you’re her father because I never mentioned you. You were nonexistent to her.”

Matteo grabbed the brandy bottle, a vein pulsating in his jaw. For a moment, I thought he might hurl the bottle in my direction, but instead, he brought it to his lips, taking another long sip.

Setting the bottle down, he resumed his advance toward me. Just centimeters away, he said, “Pack up. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“So soon!” I murmured, a frown forming. I had anticipated staying here longer.

“Yes, we’re leaving, and no, we’re not heading to Sicily,” Matteo stated, as though he were reading my mind.

“Where?” I inquired.

“On a cruise, darling. And you, my wife, will be my date.”

“No, no,” I muttered, shaking my head. “So we’re going on a date on a cruise? What about Kendall, and how long?” I scowled at him once more.

“Well, you could put it that way. It’s actually a business trip. Unless you want every woman on that ship to end up in my bed, you’re free to decline. And oh, Kendall will be with Mrs. Smith under the watchful eyes of my friends.”

Such a manipulative bastard. There was no way I could let that happen. As much as I despised Matteo, I couldn’t imagine him having another woman in his bed. I didn’t want to.

“Kendall doesn’t know anyone, Matteo. She won’t let me go even if I want to.”

“She’ll get used to it, and it’s only for a few days,” Matteo said, stepping closer.

His scent surrounded me, and I took a deep breath, willing my mind to focus on anything but him.

“And…” He murmured, his voice husky. He tugged on the belt of the robe I was wearing, causing me to gasp.

“Matteo!” I wrapped my arms around myself, shooting him a glare. “What are you trying to do?”

He pulled on the robe’s belt, drawing me closer. His grey eyes darkened as they met mine, then trailed from my face. I followed his gaze to find him looking at my chest.

It wasn’t fully exposed, yet it was-the tank top I had on offered little cover. My nipples were pointed as if vying for his attention.

Once again, I wrapped my arms around myself, stepping back.

“Why, Cara?” Matteo murmured.

“Because this is inappropriate. Both of us are in the same room, and you staring at me as if I’m some newly acquired accessory is highly inappropriate.”

“Really?” Matteo chuckled heartily, tossing his head back.

I didn’t find it amusing. I turned my back to him and began to walk out of the room.

“Deirdre,” Matteo’s voice stopped me. “Choose something alluring, darling. You’ll be sharing my bed soon.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. Matteo was insufferable. Was that all he ever considered? Me in his bed?

Maybe. It made me ponder how he managed things. Even when I was absent from his life, it left me wondering if he ever entertained such thoughts about me.