Exposed

Chapter Seventeen

I wake in the night to soft kisses on my shoulder, Matteo's hands curling around my waist, pulling me closer to his body, which is bare. I tilt my head towards him, blinking in the darkness.

"You looked so pretty tonight," he whispers as his hand grazes my breast. His warm fingers find their way beneath my nightgown and he cups my breast. My eyes are swollen from crying, but he can't see that. When he palms my breast, my body reacts, unable to help arousing to his attention. I still crave it as much as I always have. He devotes his time to making love to every inch of me, perhaps apologetically, but what would usually have me writhing against him in desperation does nothing to me now.

My brain won't allow it. The hours I spent in tears will not allow it. 

Matteo begins to notice, after a while. He's always so in tune with my movements, with my body. "Emma, baby."

I hear the concern in his voice, even a hint of fear. I press my face to his shoulder, closing my eyes to try and get into the moment. I try so hard. He clasps my body and pushes into me deeper, harder, breathing with difficulty, holding off himself.

The choice I make to fake an orgasm is fleeting, but before I can rethink it, it's too late to turn back. I force my breathing to quicken, digging my hands into his back to feign building tension.

"I'm close," I whisper, closing my eyes, feeling tears escaping down the sides of my cheeks into my hair. "I'm so close."

"Do it, Em. Come for me."

Never once have I faked an orgasm with Matteo. I had experience with it when I was with Danny, who failed to bring me pleasure on a regular basis, but with Matteo, there's never been the need. So, when I finally do it, encouraging him to let go too, I feel sick.

Physically sick.

His hands remain gently on my face for a while, completely still and I fear he's going to say something. I pray I did it well enough. I hear him release a breath and he kisses my hair.

"I love you, Emma."

I nod, although he can't tell in the darkness. "I love you, too."

                                                            ***

I'm dropping toys into the play pen when I feel my husband's looming presence behind me. "Why did you fake an orgasm last night?"

I straighten at the words, feeling my heart fall to the floor beside my feet. I won't turn around. "What are you talking about?"

"I've been with you long enough and slept with you long enough to know when you're into it."

"Matteo..."

"Don't lie to me, Em. Please."

I can't breathe.

"I... I don't know why I couldn't."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know."

"Was it me?"

"No. It was me," I whisper, finally turning. I'm sure I'm bright red. Maybe I've ghostly white. I don't even know anymore. "I've just had a lot on my mind."

"Well, tell me about it."

I chuckle, shaking my head. "It's nothing, really."

"I'd like to hear it."

I look at him disbelievingly. "Do you? Really?"

His phone rings in that moment and I know, without a doubt, he's going to answer it. He pulls it out and looks at the screen, pressing his lips together. "I'm sorry..."