“Breakfast would be most appreciated.”
I hated his formal tone. “Perhaps you could sleep once you’ve eaten,” I informed him, trying desperately not to fling my arms around him and beg him to talk to me. To let me in.
“I slept on the sofa in my office.”
Those words hit me, making my chest ache.
“Your sofa must be more comfortable than our bed since you spend more time sleeping there than you do with me these days.”
“I didn’t wish to disturb you.”
I rolled my eyes at that weak excuse, huffing a sigh as I took a mug from the cupboard. “Whatever,” I muttered.
“I don’t like that frown on your face or that rude expression,” he snapped.
I slammed the mug I was holding on the counter, my anger taking over. “And I don’t like being ignored! Where were you last night, Matteo? You missed our anniversary dinner. In fact, where are you any night these days? At least you tried when we first got married!”
He crossed his arms. “I’m a busy man. Something I explained to you when we got married.”
I glared. “You also promised me respect. There is nothing respectful about the way you are treating me.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Careful, Evie,” he warned lowly.
“Or what?” I challenged. “You’ll hit me? We’ve already established I’d prefer that to your indifference.”
He remained silent, regarding me intently.
I was too mad to care. “You said you loved me, and I was your entire world. You told me if I needed you, I only had to ask. But last night, you ignored my knock and left me alone on a date that meant a great deal to me. Do you know how that made me feel? Cast aside yet again?”
“It is something you will have to get used to. Deal with it, Evie. And stop hiding in the kitchen. Go work with the girls more and do something useful.”
I shook my head. “Is there no satisfying you, Matteo? I’m not hiding. I still make your sister uncomfortable, and I’m trying to give her time to get used to me. I thought I was doing something useful,” I added, a catch in my voice.
“And what would that be?”
“Trying to look after my husband. That, to me, was important. I’m sorry you felt I was wasting my time.” I turned away to hide my fresh tears. I reached for the toast that had popped up, the edge burning my finger. I dropped it with a low exclamation, shaking the smarting digit. Matteo appeared beside me, grabbed my hand, and inspected the small blister.
“It’s fine,” I insisted, pulling my hand away. “Leave it.”
With a low growl, he picked up my hand, checking it out. He lowered his head, kissing the end of my finger, then slid it into his mouth, easing the burn with the cool swipe of his tongue. His eyes met mine, blazing with intensity. I couldn’t look away.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Slowly, he pulled my finger from his mouth, kissing the end. “Your anger is justified, Evie. I understand it. Your frustrations drive it. My fear drives mine.”
He wrapped my hand in his. “I’m not doing a good job being a proper husband to you,” he confessed in a low tone.
I seized the opportunity to get him to open up to me.
“Lila says you have a terrible assignment.”
“Yes. It is very…difficult.” He huffed out a deep breath. “Sometimes, the images are burned into my brain, and I can’t see anything else, Evie. I don’t want to poison our marital bed by bringing those images with me.”
My anger dissipated, seeing the pain in his eyes and hearing the torment in his voice.
“Maybe if you’d let me hold you and lose yourself with me, I could help erase those images.” I dared to reach up and cup his cheek, running my fingers along his tense jaw. “At least for a short while.”
He furrowed his brow.
“I want to help you, Matteo. I want to be a good and supportive wife to you, but you have to allow me to do so.”
Suddenly, I was in his arms, encased fully in his embrace, with his mouth hard on mine. His kiss was desperate and possessive. His body screamed of tension and need. He held me tight, crushing me so close I could barely breathe. His hands never stopped in their exploration, tugging at my clothes and dipping underneath to find my skin that longed for his touch. I whimpered as he lifted me to the counter, and he licked and nipped at my neck, his groans muffled and low.
“I need you now. Right fucking now.” He buried his hands in my hair, forcing me to look at him.
“Don’t deny me this. Tell me yes. Please forgive me and tell me yes.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
Seconds later, he slammed into me. There was nothing gentle or sweet. It was possession and claiming. His need was rampant. He gripped me, his thrusts deep and steady, his breath hot on my neck.