Chapter 157
Aria
The house was too quiet.
No music. No footsteps. No Chiara’s loud laughter echoing from the kitchen. No deep voices arguing over sports or politics.
Just silence.
I blinked up from the book in my hands, the last words of the chapter fading from my thoughts. The stillness settled over me like a soft blanket, but under my skin, something buzzed.
A strange energy.
Restlessness.
Maybe it was the way the morning light filtered through the curtains, golden and warm. Or maybe it was just… him.
Matteo,
I knew he was still here. Enzo and Dante had left earlier – something about “business.” Chiara and their mom had gone shopping. The whole house felt like it belonged only to us.
And I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
I stood slowly, stretching my arms above my head, and padded down the hallway. I didn’t even know where I was going at first by his office door.
It was mostly shut.
From inside, I heard his voice. Deep. Calm. In control. Like always.
I bit my bottom lip.
I shouldn’t disturb him. That was the rule, right? No entering the office unless invited.
But rules had always made me curious.
I pushed the door open gently and peeked in.
–
until I passed
The room smelled like him. Leather, clean wood, something musky and warm. The walls were lined with shelves and books. His desk was huge, black and sleek, papers neatly stacked.
And there he was.
Matteo.
Sitting behind the desk, one hand holding his phone to his ear, the other tapping slowly on the armrest. His dark hair looked slightly messy, like he’d run his hand through it too many times. His jaw was sharp, lips moving steadily, voice low.
He looked up at me.
And smirked.
I froze in the doorway, unsure. But he just tilted his head, eyes scanning me slowly from top to bottom
–
like he was undressing me with his
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gaze alone.
Then he lifted his free hand… and motioned for me to come closer.
My heart stuttered.
I stepped into the room.
Every step felt heavier. The tension thickened, the air warmer. I walked around the desk, eyes never leaving his, until I stood right in front of him.
He patted his lap once.
No words.
Just that look like he owned me already.
I swallowed hard and sat down, my thighs brushing against his. His arm came around my waist, steadying me. He never stopped talking on the phone, but his hand moved – slowly, confidently – down my side, resting on my knee.
I shivered.
My cheeks burned, but I stayed still.
His hand started to move again – up, then down, then back up. Gentle at first, then firmer. Teasing. Playing.
I bit my lip to stop a sound from escaping.
His voice on the phone stayed calm, businesslike. But his fingers were doing things that made my skin feel too tight for my body. I wanted to melt into him, press closer.
I didn’t dare say a word.
Not even when his hand slipped higher, brushing under the hem of my dress.
I gasped softly.
He shot me a warning glance – playful but firm. Then, finally, he ended the call.
Silence again.
Except now, it was heavy with tension.
Matteo set the phone down and leaned back in his chair. His dark eyes locked on mine. He said nothing, but his fingers curled around my waist, pulling me closer into him.
Then, he kissed me.
It wasn’t soft.
It was deep. Hot. Like he had been waiting all morning to do i didn’t want to let go.
His tongue brushed mine, his hand sliding up my back, holding me like he
I moaned into his mouth.
He stood up suddenly, lifting me with him like I weighed nothing. I wrapped my legs around his waist without thinking, clinging to his
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shoulders as he turned and placed me on the desk.
Papers slid to the floor.
I didn’t care.
He kissed my neck, his breath warm against my skin. “You always break rules, don’t you?” he whispered, voice rough
I grinned, breathless. “Only yours.”
His hands roamed – not rushing, just learning. My body was on fire. Every place he touched felt like it was glowing.
I tilted my head back as his lips trailed down to my collarbone. His hand gripped my thigh, pulling me even closer to the edge of the desk.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured.
“I won’t,” I whispered.
His mouth crashed into mine again, hungrier this time.
Matteo wasn’t just touching me – he was studying me, like he enjoyed seeing how far he could push without fully giving in. His hands moved slowly, confidently, tracing over my skin like he had all the time in the world. He would let his fingers skim the edge of my shorts, then retreat, smirking when I shifted closer without meaning to. Sometimes he’d lean in like he was going to kiss me, letting his breath warm my lips – only to pull back and pretend to go back to work, as if nothing had happened. He loved making me wait, loved the way I squirmed on his lap or bit my lip to hold in a sound. His voice would stay low and calm, teasing little commands slipping out like, “Be good,” or “Don’t move.” The way he kept control, the way he made me ache without even trying – it was almost unbearable. Every glance, every lazy stroke of his thumb along my inner thigh, was designed to build tension. He wanted me restless. He wanted me begging. And the worst part was, it worked time.
–
every
I was lost. Drowning. Floating.
Everything blurred – only the feeling of his hands, the warmth of his mouth, the heat of our bodies tangled together. I felt like I might explode if he didn’t-
Then the front door opened.
BANG.
We both froze,
Footsteps.
And then… a voice.
“Aria? Sweetheart, are you here?”
Chiara.
Panic shot through me like lightning.
My eyes widened. Matteo’s grip on my waist tightened as he cursed under his breath, silently.
“Don’t move,” he whispered against my lips.
But my heart was thudding like a drum
flushed, undone and Chiara was in the house.
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Calling my name.
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