I try to bargain with myself. Maybe if it’s only once? It’s going to hurt me more in the long run to only have this one time than never at all—I can already feel him ripping a new wound in my heart, but maybe it would be worth it. Maybe she doesn’t have to know.
That new guilt is already gnawing away at my insides. I can’t keep justifying these things. It’s a slippery slope and I keep sliding down. It’s only a dream, it’s only a hug, it’s only a dance, it’s only a kiss. All lies. It’s much more and I know that.
“Mateo, I can’t,” I say, miserably.
“Meg knows I’m here,” he states.
Adrenaline surges through me. My eyes widen, darting to his for understanding. He looks calm, not like someone whose dirty secret has been found out by his intended wife, whose life is about to blow up because he can’t keep to his relationship. “What?”
“She knows where I’m at. She knows I’m spending the night. She’s fine with it. We’re not hurting her.”
Now I can’t breathe for a different reason. Confusion mingles with all the other things I’m feeling. Mateo climbs over me on the bed, straddling me. The hard evidence of his arousal presses against me, heat rolling off him in waves; my greedy body responds in kind, but I’m so fucking confused. Is she giving me a night with him? That makes this… scarier. Because it’s still going to rip my heart open in the long run, but if I’m allowed to have it, I can’t say no.
Mateo’s brown eyes bore into mine as he looks down at me. “Can you share me, Mia?”
It’s hard to concentrate with his body so near. All I want to do is touch him, but I try to keep my head straight and process what he’s saying. “What?”
He smiles, dropping a brief kiss on my lips, like he used to when I amused him. It makes my heart ache again, but I’m too confused to really feel it.
“Can you share me with Meg? No betrayal, no pain, no heartache. Not an affair; a relationship. Nobody gets hurt. Meg’s already agreed to it. If you want me, I’m yours.”
He doesn’t give me time to respond. To process what the hell he just offered. Those last six words are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard in my life. If you want me, I’m yours.
His mouth is on mine again, and it’s like pouring lighter fluid on a roaring flame. I let loose. I break away from his mouth, but not to fight. Arching off the bed, I yank the thin black camisole off my body and fling it. I shove my sleep shorts down, and he helps, yanking them off and throwing them in the floor.
“Is that a yes?” he asks, amused.
“Fuck me,” I say, reaching for his cock. I want to stroke him and make him feel good. I want him to bury himself inside me again and again. “Fuck me, Mateo.”
He grins, a devilish grin that reminds me of the poker game so long ago, when I felt like I was selling him my soul. It feels like that again, and a flash of fear moves through me, because he could be manipulating me. This could be a trick. It’s not inconceivable that he would fool me again to get what he wants, and if he is, he’ll turn my whole world upside down—again.
But even if he is, I might as well enjoy it.
I might as well let the devil sweep me up in his arms for one more dance.
I stroke his cock, pleasure moving through me as I see it play out across his handsome face. I love knowing I’m responsible for his pleasure.
He reaches down and pulls my hand away after a moment, pushing my arms down on the bed, pinning them down. Pinning me down. Looming over me. I squirm, needing him inside me.
“Have you missed my cock, Mia?”
“Yes,” I say, a little desperately.
“Have you missed my mouth?” he asks, as that beautiful mouth moves to the curve of my neck, dropping kisses there.
“I’ve missed every single thing about you,” I state, more honestly than I probably need to. I want to wrap my arms around him, to hold him, but he’s still pinning me down.
My answer pleases him. I see the approval on his face when he pulls back, and it goes straight through my veins like a drug. It’s thrilling. I want to please him more.
His hand moves between my legs, just brushing my inner thigh. I cry out, overly stimulated already. I don’t know how I’m going to survive this, but I don’t really care.
“You’re so fucking responsive,” he practically growls, diving into my neck again, sending pleasure shooting everywhere. Between kisses, he asks roughly, “What is it like to feel so much?”