Chapter 46 Dripping in Diamonds and Disrespect
Valentina
The dress was nearly transparent. A soft, gauzy white that clung like a second skin, catching the light with every shift of my body. It wasn’t technically see-through—technically—but you’d have to squint to find the difference. It shimmered, hugged my waist, dipped low in the front, and higher in the back. Barely legal. Definitely lethal.
Perfect.
I fastened one last delicate strap at the nape of my neck, checking myself in the mirror with a tilt of my chin. Hair down, loose waves. Lips glossy. Eyes lined sharp enough to cut.
That’s when I heard his voice behind me.
“Holy. Fucking. Hell.”
I met his gaze in the mirror as he stepped into the doorway. Matteo’s expression was unreadable—except for the hunger in his eyes. That part was loud.
“I know,” I said simply, turning to face him. “It’s a bit much.”
He lifted a brow. “A bit?”
“I want them to be uncomfortable.” I smoothed a hand down my side, enjoying the way his jaw flexed. “The cousin. The show pony. Let them choke on their own assumptions.”
“Normally,” he said, stepping closer, “I’d object to my woman practically flashing her goodies with another man in the room.”
I rolled my eyes, but he wasn’t done.
“But,” he added, low and firm, “I like where your head’s at. So I’ll allow it.”
That earned him a narrowed gaze. “You’ll allow it?”
He closed the space between us and wrapped his hand gently—possessively—around my throat. Not squeezing. Just a reminder. That I was his. That he could take whatever he wanted. “I own you, remember?” He gritted through his teeth.
And… I liked it?
A flush crawled up my chest and neck, heat pulsing between my legs like betrayal.
What the hell was that?
I coughed to cover my reaction and stepped back. “Anyway,” I said, voice cool, “I’m not done.”
He watched with predatory focus as I reached for the velvet-lined jewelry box on the vanity.
“Found these earlier.” I held up a pair of dainty clip-on hoops. “They look like they belonged to your mother.”
His brow lifted in suspicion, but I was already reaching down the front of my dress. I slid one hoop into place on my nipple and hissed at the bite of pressure. Then the second. My breath hitched.
Matteo looked stunned.
“That’s diabolical,” he muttered. “Be careful, wife. You might actually make me fall in love with you.”
I grinned. “Perish the thought.”
⸻
We made sure to arrive downstairs like a couple drunk on lust. His arm slung casually around my waist, his mouth brushing my ear as he whispered something filthy that made me giggle—on cue. When we entered the dining room, Matteo pulled out my chair like a gentleman and kissed my temple like a lover.
We didn’t even acknowledge Luca and Arianna already sitting at the table.
Let them simmer.
Luca cleared his throat loudly.
Matteo glanced up, perfectly casual. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t even notice you were here.”
Arianna’s eyes raked over me like a judgmental priest. “Don’t you think that dress is a bit inappropriate to wear around mixed company?” she said, voice tight. “Your nipples are practically on display.”
I smiled sweetly. “This is my honeymoon. I expected to be alone. Most of what I packed isn’t exactly designed for prying eyes.”
Her nose wrinkled, but I kept going.
“Besides,” I said, leaning back so the thin fabric clung tighter to my chest, “I’m proud of my nipples. Why have piercings if not to show them off?”
A beat of silence.
“If you’re so worried your husband has wandering eyes,” I added with a pointed glance at Luca, “maybe you should find another island. We were here first.”
Arianna’s mouth snapped shut, eyes flashing.
Matteo leaned back in his chair, unbothered. “Alright, ladies. Let’s keep the claws sheathed.”
Then he turned to Luca. “And you—keep your eyes to yourself. And your woman in check.”
Luca bristled, but didn’t argue.
And me?
I just took a long, slow sip of wine.
Let them both choke on the show.
Dinner blurred into sensation.
Matteo was relentless with his touches—every graze of his fingers a silent claim. When he pulled my chair closer, his thigh pressed into mine, and his hand slid under the table to rest dangerously high on my leg. My pulse throbbed at the intimacy, at the show we were putting on—and maybe at how good he was at it.
“Eat,” he murmured, lips brushing my ear. “I want you fed before I devour you myself.”
I forced a bite of fruit into my mouth, nodding as if he’d just whispered something innocent. Across the table, Luca was trying to make conversation, but Arianna’s eyes hadn’t left me since I walked in wearing this nearly sheer dress. The tight fabric clung to my body like a second skin, nipples clearly visible beneath the thin fabric—and clip-on earrings that still pinched just enough to keep me on edge.
After dinner, we all moved to the terrace. The night air was thick with salt and jasmine, the sky a velvet stretch overhead. Matteo pulled me into his lap, his arm tight around my waist, and whispered something low and dirty into my ear that made me laugh.
I could feel Arianna’s glare burning a hole into my shoulder.
Eventually, Matteo slid me off his lap and onto the seat beside him, my legs draped across his. His hands didn’t stop moving. A finger up my thigh. Down my arm. Across my collarbone and the swell of my breast.
Luca was trying to speak to him about the family business, something about a shipment delay, but Matteo barely glanced at him. His attention was on me. Only me.
His thumb swept over my nipple through the fabric and I gasped—a real one this time.
Matteo growled low. “You know what?” he said, standing abruptly and lifting me into his arms. “I can’t take it. I need you. Right. Now.”
I squeaked in mock surprise and clung to him, throwing a smirk over his shoulder toward Arianna.
Upstairs, he didn’t even shut the balcony doors before setting me down. “You did great,” he murmured, brushing my hair behind my ear. “But the show’s not over.”
My heart thudded. “What do you mean?”
He glanced toward the open balcony. “The terrace is right below us.”
“You’re not suggesting…”
“I’m more than suggesting it.”
A lump lodged in my throat, but I swallowed it down. I’d done worse for this plan. I could do this. I had to.
So I reached for the mask I’d worn so many times before. I slipped it on with a smile and sauntered to the balcony doors.
“Babe,” I said, just loud enough for the terrace below to hear. “Look at the moon.”
Behind me, Matteo chuckled darkly. “I don’t give a fuck about the moon… unless you want me to fuck you by the light of it.”
That earned a giggle from me—one I hoped sounded natural.
Then came the sound of fabric shifting.
He tugged the neckline of my dress down over my shoulders, baring my breasts to the warm night air.
“Fuck,” he whispered, staring at the earring clamped to my nipple. “You’re evil.”
His mouth covered it, tongue circling the swollen bud, and any fake moan I’d planned died on impact.
What came out was real.
Too real.
And it was only the beginning.