Wicked Dance [Editing]

Twelve

Contessina

It was as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't licked me. Kissed me. Sucked my skin into that liquor stained mouth of his. As if he hadn't touched me, marking me in a way as I held on.

It was like nothing the following morning, his eyes regarding me with the same bleak emotion as always. Gray eyes indifferent to me as I took a seat next to him, Mayra on the other side, eyeing us both but saying nothing. Him not even saying good morning or anything, only glancing at me for half a second before looking away from me as if I were repulsing to look at.

It made my stomach plunge. Made this weird knot form, ache, made me contemplate everything to the point that I knew nothing but one thing. I wanted him in a way I didn't understand.

I didn't know if it was for him to give me attention or for him to let me go. I didn't know if I wanted more of his mouth and words or if I wanted him far away.

I was confused all during breakfast, still feeling the trail of his mouth and tongue across my skin. Feeling the pad of his fingers on my arm, feeling how his chest brushed close to me, leaving me breathless, hot and bothered.

I shouldn't but I did, comparing the two men who had gone that far with me, holding me and kissing me. While Antonio's kisses were feather like, soft and sweet, Matteos were rough and bitter in a way that they were sweet on my lips, that lingered even hours later, days, weeks. Antonio's lips were enough but never enough to emanate such feelings of lust while Matteo's lips were greedy, giving and taking, my body wanting more, making me want to be wicked.

How could he do this to me? A few minutes, a few touches and I was breathless for him? He insulted me more than complimented me. He didn't respect me, not when he wanted me begging. He spent more time who knows where than with me and it was enough for me to forget the person I had grown to love? I thought about him more often than of the person I should, waited till he came so I could fall asleep and all because of what? These emotions that didn't feel idle.

Was this stockholms syndrome? Was I falling for the person who took everything from me? Who I hated? Who I didn't understand?

That couldn't be.

I could lie to myself but I wasn't a liar. Part of me didn't like Matteo for doing what he did, for taking me away from Antonio but the other part of me wanted to know more of him, starting with that picture that burned in my mind all night long but couldn't ask because if I did, he'd know I'd snooped around. And in all honesty, considering Juliettes words, I doubted he would have liked me going through his stuff.

Per his words of the previous night, my day had been busy. From going to see florists with the wedding planner to going downtown with Mayra, to an apartment that looked more like a clothing store because as I walked in, clothes was all I saw. From end to end, in racks, dresses, shirts, pants, bras, nightgowns, coats, everything a woman could need for any day in any season littered the room among other things like purses and shoes, even jewelry in boxes.

I didn't understand why I was there. Not even when I saw a familiar face or rather one I had seen weeks ago- the man who had taken my size- walking behind a man who's eyes took me in before motioning for someone forward, a woman I hadn't seen handing me a dress. "Go ahead and try it on." The man with dark curls had said to me, tilting his chin to a corner that was set up with dark screens.

For some reason, I did so without asking why I was trying on a dress. Putting it on and stepping out, looking at myself in one of the mirrors and losing a breath.