Aria and the other women were watching me expectantly. I cleared my throat and kicked Matteo’s leg hard, before I said. “I’d love to take you up on that offer.” Could I sound any more sophisticated? Trophy wife all the way.

Matteo’s finger traveled up my slit until it reached my clit where he started to draw small circles. I pressed my lips together to stop a moan from slipping out. Thankfully, Miriam went on another monologue about a trip to the Caribbean and I was back to pretending to listen. Only Aria gave me the occasional odd glance, as if she thought I might not be feeling well.

If only she knew. The waiters entered the room with out main course, but I hardly cared.

Without even intending to, I parted my legs a bit more, giving Matteo more room to explore my wet folds. His fingers slipped up and down, teasing my opening, before they returned to my throbbing clit. I clutched my wine glass. It wouldn’t have surprised me if I’d broken it in two from my tight grip. My breathing was shallow. Matteo kept up the slow rhythm, driving me closer and closer toward release. I should have pushed his hand away, should have stopped this madness before this turned into the most embarrassing night of my life, but need had taken over and banished any hint of reason. After a few bites of veal, I put my fork down. I was hungry for only one thing.

Matteo slipped a finger into me and I barely managed to keep in my whimper. I was getting so close. Could I even be silent?

But I was too far gone to care. Matteo still wasn’t looking at me. Instead he was completely focused on the conversation, or at least he pretended to be. I hated him for his acting talent. He brought me closer and closer, taking his time. God, this was the most delicious torture.

His skilled fingers became the whole center of my being until suddenly, without a warning he pulled them away. Shocked, I stared at him, only to realize that the waiters had returned with our dessert, chocolate mousse. Matteo gave me a grin.

I wanted to rip his clothes off and have my way with him, bring him to the brink, only to deny him release. Matteo dipped a finger into the mousse, the finger he’d used to finger me, and slid it into his mouth, licking it clean. “Hm. Delicious.”

My body was humming with desire, but in that moment I wanted to push Matteo’s face down into the stupid mousse. He picked up his spoon and calmly started eating. Aria gave me a questioning look when I didn’t move.

I grabbed my own spoon a bit too tightly and tasted the mousse. It was delicious, creamy and very chocolaty, but now all it did was remind me of Matteo’s fingers and what they had done mere moments before. Two could play this game. Once I was done with my dessert, I slipped my hand under the table and reached between Matteo’s legs. I found him already hard and that knowledge made me ache even more. I considered stroking myself instead of teasing Matteo, but banished the idea. If I wanted to win this game, I needed to play. My fingers closed around Matteo’s erection. He sucked in a quiet breath before his eyes met mine, one corner of his mouth lifting. I massaged him through the fabric of his pants, feeling him grow even harder and bigger. Unfortunately my own body responded too.

Matteo turned his head to an older guy across from him who’d asked him a question and I used the moment to find his tip and start rubbing that. Matteo had had it easier. He didn’t have as many barriers between his fingers and their goal, but as I worked the head of his cock, I could see from the flexing of his jaw that Matteo wasn’t completely unaffected. And other than me, he would have a hard time hiding his arousal if he got up, and an even harder time if he came in his pants. The thought made me smile.

Aria leaned across the table toward me. I really hoped she wouldn’t notice anything. “What’s the matter with you? You’re acting strange,” she whispered.

I shook my head and mouthed ‘later’, but my hand never stopped their work under the table. I hoped Matteo was getting close. It was hard to tell. He’d angled his face away from me and was actually conducting a coherent conversation with the old man. I squeezed a bit tighter, getting annoyed, and finally got another, albeit small reaction. Matteo tensed briefly but then visibly forced himself to relax. I could have screamed in frustration.

I was about to squeeze again, even harder when his hand found mine under the table and pulled it away. I would have clung to his erection if I hadn’t been worried about injuring him. Even if I’d never admit it to anyone, I loved Matteo’s cock, and particularly the things he could do with it. I chanced a look at Matteo and met his gaze. There was hunger in there, but also something else, something that made me want to go running for the hills, because I had a feeling I knew what it was and I was pretty sure I was starting to feel the same. I wrenched my hand away from his hold, pushed my chair back and straightened.

With a small smile at the other guests, I said. “Excuse me.” Without another look at Matteo, I headed straight toward where I hoped to find the restrooms.

It took all my self-control not to run down the long corridor branching off from the main area of the apartment. When I entered the restroom, I released a harsh breath. My cheeks were flushed, but not so much that anyone would suspect anything. That was what I hoped at least. I gripped the edge of the washbasin and squeezed my eyes shut. My heart was slamming against my ribcage. Suddenly someone gripped my hips. My eyes shot open and I stared into the mirror. Matteo towered over me, his gaze practically burning with want. He pressed his hips against my butt. “You left too soon.” His hand slipped under my dress while his other hand pulled down his zipper.

“What are you doing?” I hissed with a glance toward the door. “What if someone comes in?”

“Who gives a fuck? Let them get the show of their lives. It’s probably been years since those bitches got to see a cock.” He pushed my panties aside and thrust two fingers into me. I jutted my butt out, giving him better access. My body seemed to be acting on its own accord even when my brain was screaming at me to push Matteo away.

“Matteo,” I gasped. “Lock the stupid door.”

He moved his fingers in and out in a deliciously slow rhythm. My hips moved against him, forcing his fingers deeper into me.

“Do you really want me to stop so I can lock the fucking door?” He licked my spine from the edge of my dress up to my hairline, then met my gaze in the mirror. I shivered. He slammed his fingers into me again, hitting a sweet spot deep inside of me. His eyes seemed to bore into me, trying to reveal my darkest deepest secrets. My heart lurched, and I knew I’d be doomed if I didn’t stop this madness soon. Sex, that I could deal with, but these moments of silent understanding, these long looks full of too much meaning, they were starting to chip away at the walls I’d taken years to build.

Matteo cupped my breasts through my dress, kneading and pinching my nipple in an almost painful way that made me grow even wetter. I closed my eyes to avoid his eyes and soaked in the sensations. Matteo thrust his fingers into me over and over again. I bit down on my lip to keep the sounds in. Matteo’s lips clamped down on my pulse point, sucking the skin into his mouth. I arched, pushing my butt against his hand with all my might as my orgasm jolted through me.

“Look at me,” Matteo ordered, and my eyes flew open, meeting his. “Yes, like that. Fuck you are so fucking wet and hot.”

I dropped down to my forearms with a shuddering breath, enjoying the last waves of pleasure while Matteo slowed his fingers. He lifted my skirt even higher. I heard him unbuckle his pants and then he wrapped his arms tightly around my chest, pulled me against him and rubbed his tip over my opening. Then he slipped in inch by inch. I tried to jut my butt out, needing to feel him all the way in me, but he didn’t let me. If possible, he slowed even more, edging into me.