Chapter 47 The Art of the Performance
Valentina
The warm night air clung to my skin, thick with salt and seduction. Matteo’s mouth was between my legs, tongue coaxing out gasps that started as strategy—but weren’t staying that way.
At first, I was putting on a show. Loud, deliberate moans, soft gasps pitched just enough to echo off the stone and down to the terrace below. I knew exactly where they were sitting—Luca and his pregnant porcelain wife. I’d locked eyes with her just moments ago, watched the scowl tighten her delicate features like a bowstring pulled taut. She saw everything.
Good.
She grabbed Luca’s arm and hissed something before dragging him back inside, but the damage was already done. Their smug assumptions had cracked. That was the whole point.
But now?
Now I was having trouble remembering where the act ended and I began.
Matteo’s tongue was merciless. Lapping, teasing, thrusting. He sucked my clit just hard enough to make my legs tremble, then flattened his tongue again and groaned like he was the one unraveling.
I reached down, threading my fingers through his thick hair. “Matteo,” I breathed, tugging gently, “they’re gone…”
He didn’t stop. Didn’t even flinch. His tongue slid deeper, his fingers tightening around my thighs to spread me wider.
“I said—” I tried again, a little more forcefully.
His mouth pulled back just far enough for his dark, glinting eyes to meet mine.
“Oh no, baby,” he said, voice thick with hunger and heat. “We may have started this for them, but now we finish it for me.”
He kissed the inside of my thigh, then again higher—closer. “You did great putting on a show. That was one hell of a performance. But now I’m finishing what I started.”
I opened my mouth to argue, to remind him that I was probably sore from last night—my first time, a wedding night turned battlefield—and he beat me to it.
“I know you’re sore.” His hand slid up my leg, spreading me open again. “Last night was your first time, and unfortunately for you…” He smirked, eyes flashing wicked as he kissed the inside of my knee, “…you married a man with a big fucking cock. But I gave you the night off, didn’t I? I let you rest like the gentleman I am.”
“Oh, sure. Gentleman,” I muttered.
“I’m not going to fuck you, Valentina. Not tonight. But I am going to make you come.” His tongue dipped back between my folds. “And then, my beautiful little bride, you’re going to return the favor.”
My thighs shook. I didn’t want to want it. I didn’t want to crave this man who’d stolen everything from me. But my body was a traitor—an eager, greedy one—and Matteo knew exactly how to break me apart.
He sucked gently on the bundle of nerves at my center, then teased it with his tongue in lazy, devastating strokes. My head fell back, and I gasped, chest arching as the pleasure built like a storm in my gut.
“But I told you before,” he said, licking up again, voice husky, “you belong to me now. That pussy? It’s mine. And I’m not done with it.”
I groaned, head falling back against the open balcony doorframe.
This was dangerous territory. I couldn’t afford to blur these lines. I came here to dismantle him. To destroy everything he built on the ashes of my family. But gods help me… my body wasn’t listening.
It was too busy begging.
For him.
For this.
For more.
His mouth sealed over me again and I stopped thinking altogether.
His tongue swept over me like a man possessed—slow at first, then insistent, coaxing out every trembling breath I tried to hold back. The warm night wrapped around us, thick and velvet, but the only thing I could feel was the sharp edge of need dragging across my skin with every flick of his tongue. My fingers clenched the iron railing behind me, the cool metal grounding me as I teetered on the edge of unraveling.
“I can feel how close you are,” he murmured, dragging a finger along my slick entrance without slipping inside. “Come for me, Valentina. Let them hear how much your husband knows this body.”
His words burned through me, humiliating and heady. I hated that he was right. I hated more that I wanted them to hear.
So I gave in.
I shattered on his mouth, moaning out loud enough that if Arianna wasn’t fuming already, she damn well would be now.
He kissed the inside of my thigh before lifting his head. “Good girl.”
The words curled around something raw in my chest.
Then he stood.
“Your turn.”
I blinked, still dazed. “My what?”
“Don’t play dumb. You’re not dumb.” He tugged me to my feet, spun me gently, and guided me to my knees right there on the balcony rug.
The air was thick with tension—and something more dangerous. Trust, maybe. Or the illusion of it.
He unbuttoned his slacks and pulled himself free, thick and already hard again. My mouth went dry.
“I want you to look up at me while you do it.”
I hesitated. His hand found my hair, not rough—just steady.
“You want to convince them this marriage is real, princess?” he asked, voice low. “Then open that pretty mouth and show them how real you can be.”
I stared up at him, breath shallow, chest tight, and for the briefest second, I forgot every plan, every lie, every reason I was here.
Then I leaned forward.
If I was going to play the role, I might as well win the whole damn show.
My hands trembled slightly as I reached for him, fingers grazing over the firm ridge beneath the open fly of his pants. He hissed through his teeth, the sound low and hungry.
“You don’t have to be shy,” he murmured, brushing my hair over one shoulder like he was unwrapping a gift. “It’s just you and me…and the moonlight…and maybe a couple of horrified eavesdroppers downstairs.”
I gave him a pointed look. “You really get off on the idea of them hearing, don’t you?”
His grin was wolfish. “I get off on you pretending you hate it.”
I leaned in, dragging my tongue along the underside in one long, deliberate stroke.
He groaned, his hand finding the back of my head, not forcing—just anchoring.
“That’s it, baby,” he breathed. “Put on a show for your audience.”
I looked up through my lashes, lips brushing his tip. “You think they’re still listening?”
He gave a slow, dangerous smile. “They will be when I make you gag.”
And gods help me, I didn’t flinch.