Chapter 3
Ophelia's POV
He moved closer and gently touched the ice to my throat.
The cold made me inhale sharply.
He followed the trail with his mouth, warming my skin where the ice had been. I closed my eyes as another shiver moved through me.
He moved lower, slowly tracing the ice along my collarbone before letting it slide between my breasts, circling each nipple until they tightened hard.
Then he took them into his mouth one after the other, sucking gently.
I closed my eyes, trying to quiet the thoughts racing through my head, but the warmth of his mouth made it difficult to think about anything else. For a moment, I hated how easily my body responded to him.
After everything that had happened, after all the nights I had spent wondering where I stood in his life, I was still affected by his touch.
Part of me wanted to forget everything and simply enjoy being close to my husband. Another part of me kept reminding me that this tenderness did not erase the things that had hurt me.
He paused and looked at my face.
I could not tell what he saw there, but something in his expression made my chest tighten. I reached for him, needing the closeness even though I knew I should be careful with my heart.
He continued down my stomach, his touch unhurried.
When he reached my thighs, he let the melting ice fall onto the sheets and settled closer.
His hands rested gently on my thighs as he kissed my skin.
I exhaled slowly, my fingers tightening around the sheets. My heart was beating hard, and I could feel myself getting lost in the moment. For those few seconds, I let myself forget everything.
I let myself feel wanted.
And that frightened me more than I wanted to admit.
He spread my thighs wider and licked a long, slow stripe through my wetness.
I sucked in a sharp breath. “Fuck,” I whispered.
He did it again, slower this time, then closed his mouth over my clit and sucked.
His movements were steady and relentless. My hips jerked against his face before I could stop them, while my fingers twisted tightly into the sheets.
He held my thighs open and kept going, his tongue working over me until the pleasure turned sharp and heavy. I came hard, my thighs shaking around his head as a broken sound escaped me and my back arched off the mattress.
He crawled up my body and kissed me.
I tasted myself on his tongue. For a second I almost pulled away, the closeness feeling too much after everything, but my legs wrapped around his waist anyway.
I reached down and guided his cock to my entrance.
“Put it in,” he said in a rough voice.
He pushed inside in one deep stroke.
We both went still, breathing hard against each other’s mouths. Then he started moving with slow, hard thrusts that filled me completely. I met each one, rolling my hips up to take him deeper. My nails dug into the muscles of his back.
The stretch and heat made it harder to hold on to the caution I had promised myself.
“Harder,” I told him.
He gave it to me without hesitation.
When I needed more control, I shoved at his shoulder. He rolled onto his back. I straddled him, sank down onto his cock, and rode him hard.
My hands braced against his chest as I took every inch of him the way I wanted.
His hands gripped my waist, but I set the pace, rolling my hips in tight circles that pulled him deeper. Pleasure built thick and fast, so I leaned forward so he could suck my tits while I fucked him.
When the second orgasm hit, it dragged him with me. He held me tight and groaned against my skin as he came inside me, his cock pulsing deep.
Afterward, we stayed quiet for a while.
Matteo rested against the pillows while I lay with my cheek against his chest, listening to his breathing slowly settle. His fingers moved gently through my hair, and I found myself relaxing despite everything I had been trying not to think about.
The warmth of his body felt safe in a way that left me unsettled. I shifted closer anyway, letting myself enjoy the comfort for a few more minutes.
“You know I love you, don't you?”
I lifted my head and looked at him.
There had been a time when hearing those words from him would have been enough to make me forget every hurt between us.
“I know,” I said quietly.
Now, that answer didn't change what I already knew.
He kissed my forehead, and I rested my cheek against his chest again.
Neither of us spoke after that.
The room slowly grew cooler as the night passed, and I eventually drifted into a light sleep with his arm around me.
When I opened my eyes again, the darkness had faded. Pale morning light slipped through the curtains and spread across the room. For a moment, I stayed still, listening to the quiet.
Then I heard the shower running.
A few minutes later, Matteo's voice came through the half open bathroom door. He was speaking in Italian to someone on the phone, his tone low and serious.
I closed my eyes and pretended to still be asleep.
My mother's youngest sister, Aunt Alena, had taught me Italian when I was in high school. Matteo knew I understood the language, but he had forgotten how much of it I still remembered.
I couldn't hear the person on the other end clearly, but Matteo’s words carried through the open bathroom door.
“Piano. Dimmi esattamente cosa è successo. Perché Bianca ha mal di stomaco?”
Slow down. Tell me exactly what happened. Why does Bianca have a stomachache?
My eyes opened for a second before I quickly closed them again.
Bianca?
My heart skipped.
After a brief pause, Matteo spoke again.
“E mi stai dicendo che non le è ancora venuto il ciclo?”
And you’re telling me she still hasn’t gotten her period?
My entire body went still.
Who hadn’t gotten her period?
The question almost escaped me, but I swallowed it back. If Matteo realized I was awake, he might stop talking. I needed to hear the rest.
After another pause, Matteo asked, “Ha fatto il test?”
Has she taken the test?
My stomach dropped.
He was talking about Bianca.
I pressed my fingers into the sheets beneath the blanket and kept my eyes closed.
After another pause, he said, “Calmati. Non farla agitare.”
Calm down. Don’t upset her.
There was a note of concern in his voice.
He listened again before speaking firmly.
“No. Non chiamare nessun altro. Sto arrivando.”
No. Don’t call anyone else. I’m on my way.
Silence followed.
My heart was pounding beneath the blanket, but I forced myself to remain still.
Bianca might be pregnant. With Matteo’s child.
A minute passed, then the mattress dipped beside me. I quickly relaxed my face and kept my eyes closed.
I felt Matteo's hand touch my shoulder.
“Ophelia. Wake up.”
I opened my eyes slowly. “Hmm?” I murmured, adding a sleepy yawn.
“I have to leave. One of my men called. There's a problem with one of the deals. I need to handle it myself.”
I looked at him, pretending I was still trying to wake up. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “I'll be back as soon as I can.”
I gave him a sleepy smile. “All right.”
He walked toward the door, then paused.
“The driver will be waiting downstairs whenever you’re ready to go home.”
Then he left.
I listened until his footsteps faded down the hallway before I finally stood up. I pulled on the robe from the hotel closet and walked into the bathroom.
I stood in front of the mirror and looked at my reflection.
For a few hours, Matteo had made it easy to remember why I had once loved him. He had spoken softly, touched me gently, and made me believe, if only for a little while, that the man I married was still there.
Then one phone call had brought everything back.
Bianca might be pregnant with his child.
I couldn’t control what Matteo chose to do, but I could control what I did next. I would keep acting as though everything was fine and let him believe I was still the same woman he had always known. Meanwhile, I would finish my preparations.
By the time Matteo understood what I was doing, I would already be gone.
I looked at myself in the mirror for another moment before turning away.
I had six days left.