Wicked Dance [Editing]

Twenty-Seven

Contessina

Dark clouds heavy with snow loom over us as we make our way down the empty and icy roads, away from the airport, to a place I don't know, without security, just me and Matteo on this trip.

Just him and I.

Husband and wife.

Warmness fills my stomach at the thought, my gaze flickering away from the snow covered trees and rocks, to him, to the man who had moaned out my name in a way that whispered to the depths of my soul, coaxing the darkness in me, making me hungry for more.

I ached for more. Desired more.

I wanted to consume him and be consumed by him.

It was a thought I never thought I'd have.

Pulling my hands out of the pockets of my hoodie, I slide them down my jean clad legs, rubbing my thighs. "Are we almost there?"

We-he- had been driving for a while now, past houses and many roads, past nothing but land covered in white snow and mountains in the horizon. We've been making our way farther and farther away from everything that it was just land.

Matteo glances my way at my words, gray eyes dark and intense, making my stomach tighten, making the warmness burn.

Last night, after I had felt him throbbing against my hand, hot and aching, I thought we'd cross that line, that he'd slip out of his remaining clothes and show me everything I desired to know but he hadn't.

We didn't consummate our marriage last night.

No, after, Matteo had gently pulled my hand from his pants, he had brushed his lips against mine, saying my name as if it was all he knew, in a ragged breathlessness. He had pushed himself up on his hands as I watched him, ready but instead of taking off his pants, he reached for a shirt and slipped it over me, picking me up and carrying me to the bathroom with ease, saying nothing as he sat me on the counter, my mind a whirlwind on what he was doing or not doing to me.

Weeks ago, nights ago, before, he had wanted to take me to bed but now that we were married, by God, by law, he wasn't?

I didn't know what to think. If all night, those touches, the looks, the tension meant differently or nothing at all.

I didn't know if it was me. Or him. Until he spoke.

"Don't think I don't want to. I do." He had said, stopping me from entering a different darkness. "You are exceptional." He had brushed his thumb across my cheek, making me look at him, eyes intense, fulfilling. "But today has been long. And I know that you're tired. I know you want a shower and food. I know you want to rest. You need to rest because tomorrow is going to be long too and even when I know you said you're ready, we are in no hurry to do this. I am in no hurry even if it's taking all my strength not to take you on the counter. Okay?"

The doubt and hurt washed away, my heart swelling at his words, at the sincerity that dripped from his words.

He wanted me and cared for me.

Agreeing with him- I had felt the tiredness in my bones- Matteo had moved to take off my tiara from my head, taking off each pin carefully, fingers threading across my hair, pushing back locks, the moment far more intimate than him kneeling between my legs, making me touch heaven.