UNHOLY DESIRE

DEIRDRE

I lingered by the bathroom door, leaving only when I heard the sound of the door opening and closing, indicating that Matteo had likely exited the room.

Taking a deep breath, I peeled off Matteo’s shirt, now clinging to my body like a second skin, and headed for the shower. Turning it on, I tested the water, feeling it splatter on my feet before stepping in.

As the warm water cascaded over my skin, Matteo’s thoughts invaded my senses. I ran my hands through my hair, closing my eyes as my imagination ran wild. I resisted, but my desires took over.

For three years after leaving Matteo, I had tried not to think about my desires for him, but it was impossible. Thoughts of him lingered, driving away any other men who came into my life. No one compared to him.

Allowing my fingers to glide slowly down my body, I sighed, leaning against the shower wall. I couldn’t recall the last time I had touched myself. Since having Kendall, I had convinced myself my libido was dead, but I knew better. It was alive because of Matteo.

Shit, Matteo made me feel alive, reminding me I was a warm-blooded woman. Even though he treated me poorly, I wanted him. I reasoned that I could lust after him without adding feelings to the mix-just as he did.

Matteo only wanted my body; he never attributed any feelings to me. I guess I could do that as well, only if it wouldn’t hurt me.

“Deirdre,” I heard him say.

With my eyes still shut, I imagined him by the shower door, watching me with lust-filled eyes.

His hair was in disarray, and as he gazed at me, a smirk formed on his face.

I wanted to step out of the shower, walk toward him, kiss him briefly, and pull him in with me to explore our desires. Instead, I stood there, waiting for him to make the first move.

“Deirdre,” he said again. This time, he didn’t just watch; he slowly stripped down to his boxer briefs and walked toward the shower.

“Deirdre,” he repeated, touching my shoulder. A jolt shot through me, and my eyes snapped open. Was Matteo real, or was I imagining him? He was definitely real; an imaginary Matteo wouldn’t touch me, and I’d feel it.

My cheeks burned as I looked at Matteo, from his scrutinizing eyes to his chest, then downward, flickering back to his face as I saw he was completely bare.

My throat went dry as I saw his bulge stretching and bobbing its head.

“What were you thinking of, Deirdre?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

“There’s not enough room for us,” I blurted out, avoiding his question.

“There’s more than enough,” Matteo grunted. “Were you thinking about another man, Deirdre? You don’t look so innocent now.”

Turning my back to him, I avoided his devilishly handsome face. “You should wait for me; I am almost done.”

“I’ve been waiting for more than thirty minutes,” Matteo said, asking again, “You were definitely thinking about a man, were you not?”

I didn’t answer right away, and suddenly, he was behind me. Too close for comfort, I could smell him and feel his presence.

“You look tensed,” Matteo observed. His hand groped my shoulder, kneading slowly. I tried to shrug it off, but he persisted. Matteo was skilled at massaging, his soft palms hitting all the right places, making me purr unintentionally.

For a brief moment, Matteo continued kneading my shoulder, relieving the pent-up tension I only now realized. I sighed, closing my eyes.

In that fleeting second, my eyes snapped open as I felt him pressed behind me, his hard dick between my ass cheeks.

“Matteo?” I murmured, turning to face him. Abruptly, he spun me around, pulling me close to his chest. My hand splayed on his chest as I tried to steady myself. “What?”

“Chi e lui? (Who is he?)” Matteo demanded, his voice harsh.

“What?” I stammered.

“Who were you thinking about, Deirdre? I was by the shower for a long time, and I called your name, but all I got from you was moans.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been in here showering and nothing else,” I said, finding it even sillier that he believed I was thinking of another man instead of him.

“Don’t play with me, Deirdre. And don’t pull the divorce card on me; we both know we’re still legally bound. You don’t go about mind-fucking any man you desire, Deirdre. You are mine,” he asserted, and then, for emphasis, his lips closed on mine.

I shoved at his chest, but he didn’t release my lips. When he did, he nudged me into the wall of the shower and hissed, “I told you I will put a bullet into the first man that will think of you inappropriately. I can still do the same if you think about them without them thinking of you.”

“For one, I’ve never mind-fucked any man. Secondly, we didn’t have a marriage, and thirdly, I’m done bathing. Can you let me go?” I looked up at him before glaring at his hand that was now on my shoulder.

Matteo didn’t let go right away, watching me as if deciding what to do. When he did release me, he sighed. “Check out those dresses on the bed. I got them for you.”

“Thank you,” I muttered, stepping out of the shower. Despite feeling his eyes on me, I didn’t look back.

I didn’t want to see the lust in them. Although we argued, the lust with Matteo never seemed to diminish; instead, it often intensified. Towel-drying my body, I reached for one of the dresses he had mentioned-ten dresses in total. I wondered how he had managed to get them so quickly.Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

I slipped into the spaghetti-thin strap knee-length dress, neatly stowed the rest in the wardrobe, and put my hair up in a bun. Ready to explore the surroundings, I stepped towards the door.