Exposed

Chapter Twelve

The time began to pass quickly, quicker than I'd usually be comfortable with. Except happiness makes the little inconveniences of the world disappear. Matteo's performing with his company, having sold out so many shows that they added ten more to the contract. Neither of us, at first, was used to living with someone. I wasn't surprised when we took to the changes better than most probably would.

We lack the need for distance. We've had enough of that.

It's March now, and the week of my birthday.

Our biggest threat still remains my family, which should make the vacation at the cabin an interesting one, to say the least.

I look at Matteo, whose removing our luggage from the car parked outside of the two-story cabin. "This place reminds me of something," I admit, smirking in remembrance.

He does the same, shutting the door. "Yes, I like those memories."

"Maybe they'll go out to town and we can stay behind," I say flirtatiously, wrapping my hands around his neck. He sets down the luggage beside me, feigning disapproval.

"That's rather naughty of you, Em. I doubt they'll like that."

"We can fake sickness." My fingers curl around the ends of his hair. "I don't think I can go three days without you."

The door opens and my father strides onto the porch, clapping his hand together.

"The birthday girl is here! Hare, V!"

Smiling, I look at Matteo, who grabs the luggage. "We'll think of something."

***

"Happy birthday to you," the three people in the room sing, cheering at the over-the-top finale. Veronica's hands bounce on my shoulders excitedly as I bend toward the melting candles, glancing up at Matteo, who seems to be glowing in the candlelight lit room beside my father and Veronica's new boyfriend, Cesar.

He's smiling. I blink, remembering a time when it would be a treasure to see it. He does it so often now.

I blow out the candles with a huge gasp, could remain this way forever.

***

My eyes flicker open in the dark as I part from my dream state, entering back into reality, into the small, dark cabin bedroom and the warm hands pushing my thighs apart. A soft moan leaves my mouth at the welcomed intrusion and my hands find their way into dark, chocolate-colored hair as an eager and skilled tongue coaxes my sex, rousing me to consciousness.

Matteo's hands cover my already sensitized skin, drifting under my thighs to hold me to him, unfailing even while my hips unabashedly rock onto his mouth. He buries himself between my legs, intent on rousing me with an orgasm. His tongue never probes or explores, sure of the target. My fingers pull his hair desperately, my chest crashing and he doesn't complain.

The build is quick. My eyes dart over to the closed doorway, all too conscious that we aren't alone in under this roof and then to the ceiling, as my muscles tense.

"Fuck," I choke, pressing one of my hands to the headboard above me as he quickly throws me over the edge, into blissful, blissful pleasure. His fingers, like steel, release their impressive hold, leaving me no doubt that there will be bruising in the morning.

I'll gladly take it.

My nails sink into his shoulders as I drag him up to me, still dazed from the height of my pleasure. Everywhere he touches is on fire, bunches of nerves set off by his rousing devotion. With no desire to drag out pleasure in this certain predicament-a house full of my family a room away-his body settles onto my own and in one swift move, he enters me, his unholy lips devouring my mouth with the claiming. He moans against them, pressing my hands into the bed beside my head, trapping me beneath him. Slinking my legs around his body, I push him deeper into me, needing the feel of him buried to the hilt, consuming me.