“Evie, oh God, Piccolina. You…I need…fuck!”
I cried out his name, letting him take me, needing him as much as he needed me. I began to tighten around him, moaning and pleading, wanting to feel him as deep as he could be. He lifted my legs, shoving them against my chest, and pushed harder. Deeper. Hitting a spot I didn’t know existed.
Seconds later, I came. Hard, shaking, and crying out his name. He followed soon after, collapsing on my chest, panting and sweating. His face was buried in my neck, and I was startled to feel the dampness of his tears on my skin. Wrapping my arms around him, I kept him close, running my fingers through his hair in soothing caresses.
“I’m here, Matteo. For you. You need to let me in.”
He tightened his arms, then drew back and allowed me to see his torment.
“This case is horrendous. It’s killing me,” he confessed. “The images and atrocities are beyond even my comprehension. It leaves me so ill, I’m having trouble coping.”
I ran my fingers through his hair. “Don’t shut me out, Matteo. Come to me. Let me be the light for you.”
“I come to you each night, Evie.”
“But I wake up alone,” I said, confused.
“I cannot bear to wake you. I worry I will disturb you since I cannot sleep. I watch over you as you slumber. It gives me the only peace I find these days.” He frowned. “Except the past few nights, you haven’t been resting. You’re fitful, and you cry out in your sleep. You calm when I hold your hand, but you still seem to need something.”
I cupped his face. “I need you, Matteo. I sleep well in your arms. Without them, without you, I am lost now.”
His eyes widened. “But I…”
I shook my head. “Even if you can’t sleep, even if you need to make love to me or talk to me all night, I would prefer that to an empty bed and not feeling as if I am enough for you.”
He crushed me to him. “You are, my beauty. You are all that keeps me going right now.”
“Then show me.”
“I don’t know how.” He shrugged his shoulders. “This is so new to me. I don’t know how to let you help me.”
“Where is everyone?”
“They are all exhausted. We’re waiting for some more information before we proceed. I sent them home until lunchtime to rest.”
“Then come upstairs with me and sleep. I’ll hold you, and you can rest.”
He hesitated.
“Please, Matteo. For me.”
Without another word, he lifted me into his arms and carried me upstairs.
For the first time in days, I felt complete.
Chapter Fourteen
Evie
Matteo slept hard. With his body curved around me and his face buried in my neck, he was out instantly. I ran my fingers through his messy hair and watched him. Even in sleep, he appeared distressed, his brow furrowed and his full lips pulled into a frown. Gently, I traced the dark circles under his eyes, hating the exhaustion written on his skin.
He burrowed closer. “Need you,” he mumbled. “Love you so much…”
I vowed not to let him push me away again. He needed me. He loved me. I wouldn’t let him down.
Later, when he woke and showered, I made him a late breakfast, tsking as he wolfed it down. He was starving.
“I missed your cooking,” he admitted.
“You need to eat. No more skipping meals and not coming to our bed. No matter how awful the day is, Matteo. Your men need you to be strong, and ignoring your health is not helping.” Leaning over, I cupped his cheek. “I need you.”
He covered my hand with his own. “I need you, as well.” He sighed. “I will try to do better, Evie.”
“I know you will.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, setting it on the table.
“What is that?”
“Your anniversary present.”
Tears filled my eyes. “You did remember?”
“Yes. I had planned to be here, celebrating with you. Then Julian called, and everything went to hell.” He drew in a long breath. “I was so sickened by what I found out that I couldn’t face you. Anyone. I coped the only way I knew how.”
“By being alone.”
“Yes.”
“No more, Matteo. Even if you are struggling—especially if you are—you need to come to me. If you can’t talk, it’s fine. Just let me be there for you.”
He studied me for a moment, then captured my hand, pressing his lips to my palm. “I will.”
He nudged the box my way. “I had this made for you. I hope you like it.”
I opened the lid, my eyes widening at the sight. A pretty necklace, delicate and lovely, was nestled on the velvet. It contained a tiny polished stone, a piece of a shell, and a creamy white pearl, arranged in a clear locket. All things I had found on our honeymoon and brought home. The pearl had been in the oysters we ate one night. The stone had glittered in the water, and I had never seen colors like the broken shell had possessed. Matteo had teased me about the silly items but never mentioned them after we got home—I assumed he had forgotten about them. They had sat in a small cup on the shelf, and I had planned to do something with them, but he had this made for me instead.