A Hunger for the Forbidden(32)

“Somewhere,” he said.

He led her out of the ballroom, ignoring everyone who tried to talk to them. A photographer followed them and Matteo cursed, leading them a different way, down a corridor and to the elevators.

He pushed the up button and they both waited. It only took a moment for the elevator doors to slide open, and the moment they did, she was being tugged inside, tugged up against the hard wall of his chest and kissed so hard, so deep, she was afraid she would drown in it.

She heard the doors slide closed behind them, was dimly aware of the elevator starting to move. Matteo shifted their positions, put her back up against the wall, his lips hungry on hers.

“I need you,” he said, his voice shaking.

“I need you,” she said.

Her entire body had gone liquid with desire, her need for him overshadowing everything. Common sense, self-protection, everything. There was no time for thought. This was Matteo. The man she wanted with everything she had in her, the man who haunted her dreams. This was her white knight, but he was different than she’d imagined.

There was a darkness to him. An edge she’d never been able to imagine. And she found she liked it. Found she wanted a taste of it. She didn’t know what that said about her, didn’t know what it meant, but at the moment, she didn’t care, either.

“This is a beautiful dress,” he said, tracing the deep V of the neckline with his fingertip, skimming silk and skin with the movement. Her breath hitched, her entire body on edge, waiting for what he would do next. Needing it more than she needed air. “But it is not as beautiful as you. And right now, I need to see you.”

He reached around, tugging on the zipper, jerking it down.

“Careful,” she said, choking on the word. “You’ll snag the fabric.”

“I’ll tear it if I have to,” he said.

The top fell around her waist, revealing her breasts, covered only by a whisper-thin bra that showed the outline of her nipples beneath the insubstantial fabric.

He lifted his hand and cupped her, slid his thumb over the tightened bud. “Hot for me?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Wet for me?” He put his other hand on her hip, flexed his fingers.

She couldn’t speak, she just nodded. And he closed his eyes, his expression one of pained relief like she’d never seen before.

She put her hand between her breasts, flicked the front clasp on her bra, letting it fall to the elevator floor. He looked at her, lowering his head, sucking her deep into his mouth. An arrow of pleasure shot from there down to her core. She tightened her fingers in his hair, then suddenly became conscious of the continued movement of the elevator.

“Hit the stop button,” she said, her voice breathless.

“What?” he asked, lifting his head, his cheeks flushed, his hair in disarray. Her heart nearly stopped. Matteo Corretti undone was the most amazing thing she’d ever seen.

“The elevator,” she said.

He cursed and turned around, hitting the red button on the wall, the elevator coming to a halt. He cursed again and reached into his pocket, taking out his cell phone. “Just a second.”

“You better not be texting,” she said.

He pushed a few buttons, his eyes not straying to her. “Not exactly.” He turned the screen toward her and she saw him. And her. And her breasts.

“Oh.”

He pushed a few more buttons. “I have disabled the security camera now. Unless you like the idea of being on film.”

She had to admit, she had a certain amount of curiosity as to what it looked like when Matteo Corretti made love to her. It was a video she wouldn’t mind owning, in all honesty. But she didn’t want it on security footage, either.

“Not in the mood to provide security with any early-evening jollies.”

“No worries, I have now deleted that little stretch of footage. There are advantages to being a control freak. Having an app on your phone that lets you see all the security at your hotels, and do as you please with the cameras, is one of them.”

He discarded his suit jacket and tie then, throwing them onto the floor of the elevator, tossing his phone down on top of them.

“Have you used that trick before?” she asked, before he lowered his head to kiss her again.

“With a woman?”

“Yes.”

“Jealous?”

“Hell, yes,” she said, not worried if he knew it. She wanted this moment, this desperation that was beyond anything she’d known, to be as foreign to him as it was to her.