What you find

The Overthinking

Carina could not comprehend Matteo's words, still high on the after-effects of his actions. Her breathing was deep and mouth dry. She could not retrace ger steps. How had they ended up in this position? One minute they were enjoying a dessert and the next they were inside her room, their bodies entwined together. Carina shut her eyes when she felt his hands settle on her hips and pull her closer to him. She was eminently aware of his chest, defined abdomen and hard cock. While she had desperately wanted this to happen, she had difficulty believing it; but his hot touch and her wet panties could not possibly be fictitious. She felt him tighten his hold before he lightly pushed her against the wall, her back still touching his front. Placing her hands on the wall for support, she tried to look at him. Before she could move, he grasped her hair in one hand and pulled her head back. Slowly skimming his nose over the length of her neck, taking in her scent. Goosebumps appeared on her skin as she shivered slightly. Reaching her left ear, he bit the lobe and simultaneously gyrated his hips against hers. Carina felt her juices leak out of her throbbing pussy. She clenched her thighs tighter, hoping to salvage her lace panties. Her conscience had lost the fight to her body's need for pleasure and she could not prevent herself from pushing her hips back wishing for some friction. He tutted in her ear. Bending his head, he kissed her neck; his lips latched on to the skin at the base of her neck. Her knees weakened as he sucked hard. The hold on her hair tightened while the other travelled down to her pussy. Even though his fingers did not enter her jeans, she felt the heat in her lower belly. When he was satisfied with his mark on her, he licked it to soothe the ache. Carina could hold herself back no longer and moaned breathlessly, "Matteo". He grew stiff. Banging the wall with his fist, he growled, "Fanculo!".

His head fell forward as he breathed heavily. When she put her hand on his wrist, she felt him pull away from her as if he had burned himself. The sudden action stripped away the daze which surrounded her brain. She turned around to look at him but could not decipher his state of mind. Silence surrounded them. Does he regret it? He backed away when she raised her hand to touch his chest. She bit her lip confused. She could not muster up the courage to question him. She stood there for a few minutes, gazing at the door after he left the room.

Chagrined, she hurriedly pulled off her clothes and threw them on the bed. Opting for a cold shower, she pondered what had gone wrong. She could not come up with an explanation for his sudden retreat. She was sure it wasn't for lack of interest. While it had not been intentional, she had turned him on. In addition to confusion, she felt a shred of gratitude. If he had not stopped, they would have ended up in bed and she was not sure she wouldn't have regretted it. In just two days Matteo had taken her emotions on a roller-coaster ride. She had never associated such a multitude or magnitude of emotions with anyone. She had broken all the rules she had set earlier that day but could not bring herself to regret it. Scrubbing vigorously, she worked on removing the feel of his touch on her skin but it seemed pointless. Her body had been branded. Frustrated, she scrubbed harder and ended up scratching herself. She hissed as she felt the sting of soap on scraped skin. She quickly rinsed her body and wore a pale pink silk shirt after drying herself.

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Carina knew she would not be able to sleep; not with thoughts of Matteo still swimming around in her head. She pulled the bag from under her bed and dumped the contents on the bed. Putting her hand on her hips, she looked at the mess and sighed. She got under the covers and began to sort through the files. She spent hours going through them, committing the names to her memory. There was proof of deals the mafia family made to rise to power. It was hard to believe her father was involved in crime. He had always been sweet, happy. She wondered if she could ever trust anyone when she did not even know her father. When her mother had told her how she met Enzo Romano, she had left out the details of his occupation. But Rosalia's story had not been any less tragic.

Rosalia had been kidnapped while on a vacation in Italy and would have been sold into sex slavery if not for Enzo. She had not disclosed much to her fifteen-year-old daughter. Having read her father's letter, Carina knew he was still part of the mafia back then. Her mother had told her that she knew within the first few moments of meeting Enzo that he would change her world drastically. She had cried with her mother when she had heard of her past. Now knowing the hardships her parents faced, she felt proud of them for making it through but equally sad that they had not been allowed to enjoy their life together longer. They had always appeared to be so in love with each other. She had, in her teenage years, prayed for a love like theirs. She shed tears reflecting on the sorrowful day she had lost both of them.

Clenching her hands in a fist, she realised she was still holding a sheet of paper in her hand. It crinkled. She remembered Matteo's reaction to the knowledge of the death of her parents. He hadn't said anything but his hug had made her feel compassion than the rehearsed words at the funeral had. She had pulled him to the dessert stall to get rid of the sombre mood their conversation had resulted in. She had not anticipated it would end with her panties wet and bed empty. Yawning, she pulled the covers up to her chin and continued to read through data, pushing Matteo to the back of her mind.

Maybe I should have kissed him.

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