COLD TRAP

MATTEO 

It’s date night with my wife and I cannot begin to explain the tremendous joy it brings me, knowing that in a few hours, I’d be sitting alone with my very beautiful wife, doing something we never deemed posible, 

My lips stretch into a smile as I watch her glam herself. Tight on her skin, accentuating her curves is a pretty silky dress. The color lilac. It signifies our growing love. 

“You’re absolutely gorgeous, mama,” I whisper, striding towards her in gentle steps. Her smile widens at me through the mirror, her beautiful mismatched orbs shining with excitement. 

I move her hair to one side of her neck and trail my fingertips across the exposed skin of her back, reaching for her zipper. “Makes me think if this date is even worth it” 

She chuckles, her face flaming up like a teenager with a crush. 

Our eyes meet and a thick feeling forms in my chest. She’s breathtaking, Jesus. How can anyone be so breathtaking? 

“You’re staring. Matteo.” She comments, smacking my thigh. 

“Would you like me to stop, wife!” I tease, lifting up her right arm so that I can place a kiss on her wrist. My all time favorite thing to do, kissing her wrist. The wrist which wears, like a sleeve, the frequency of my first heartbeat after I awakened from a coma. 

“I could stare at you too, because.. well, you look good.” She says, turning around to face me. “But we’d be late to dinner if we were to continue in this staring competition” 

My heart swells with excitement and pride on hearing her compliment. 

“Thank you, baby” I quickly mutter, fighting the urge to think dirty thoughts and indulge in dirty acts. “Go on, get ready. I’ll just watch and wait.” “You better,” she smiles. 

I stand aside, my arms folded over my chest, my eyes intent on her swaying waist and busy hands as she runs around the room, getting ready quickly–as fast as she can. 

God, the last thing I want to do now is leave this room. I want to have my wife in my arms all through the night and the day that follows. But I promised her a date, and I plan on keeping any promise. 

Minutes pass. She comes to stand in front of me. She stands still for a few minutes before twirling, her arms spread out like 

wings 

She asks. 

It’s so fucking difficult to keep my eyes from giving away my desperation to have her naked, underneath me, on my bed. 

I pull her close to me, drawing a playful chuckle from her throat. Sei perfetto, amore mio I lean down, taking a whiff of her heavenly fragrance. “And you smell so good all I want to do is eat you up,” 

She scoffs lightly. “Of course you do.” Her hands rest on my arms. “So you like what I did with my hair?” 

“I love what you’ve done with everything, head to toe. Speaking of toes, where are your shoes!” 

She points to the edge of the bed where her shoes have been placed. 

I nod. “Sit on the bed. I order, leaning down to pick up the shoes before approaching her. She’s seated very close to the edge of the bed, her mismatched orbs intent on mine while I stalk for her. 

I go down on my knees, an angle I find to be quite torturous when my wife’s legs ever so slightly part. I quickly lick my lips, my throat becoming suddenly patched. 

Clearing my throat, I gently massage the ankle of her left leg before slipping on the shoe and securing the buckle. 

Mirabella shifts her legs apart again and I have to fight hard not to drop my eyes between them, or to even lean down and kiss her exposed, glowing thighs. 

My gaze avert upwards, meeting her mischievous ones. I don’t break the stare as I slip on the second shoe, securing the buckle. 

She smirks at me. My brows twitch. 

Fucking seductress 

h’s not even the parted legs, but those eyes of hers. That deep gare filled with dirty degires, so sultry, filthy, and tempting. 

I don’t break her stare when I lean down to place soft kisses on both her knees. “All done, baby” I say, my voice on a low grunt. 

“Thank you,” she says, leaning slown to ghost her lips over the corner of my lips, her teeth grazing my skin. “You’re the best, Matteo” 

“Ter favore.” I grunt, throwing my head back. “You cannot say things like this to me and expect me to tanse myself.” My voice is merely a whisper. My large hands fondle her thighs, my desires growing precarious. “If Loould have it any way, Mirabella, we’ll dutch this dinner date, and I’ll have my tongue curled up between your legs until you’re coming like it’s your last day on rantlı” 

She inhales a sharp gasp, her legs slightly parting for me involuntarily. 

I stay kneeled for her, waiting for her to say the words. Just her consent. It’s all I desire. 

thighs are 

1 lean down and begin placing gentle, lingering kisses on the skin of her thighs, my hands kneading the soft skin. The skin between her th so soft and smooth, unbelievably smooth. And warm. All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

I kiss her higher. There’s no protest, neither is there consent. She runs her fingers through my hair, her breathing growing frantic by the passing 

second 

“I want you so badly, Mirabella.” I say on a whisper. 

She bites her bottom lip, her eyes hooding with want. “Show me how badly, baby” 

The corner of my lips tip up into a smile, “and our date?” 

“We have all the time in the world, do we not?” 

A blush coats my cheeks and I sort to shield it from her. She doesn’t let me. She grips my chin and forces my face upwards, leaning down to kiss my lips. “Don’t hide from me, dear husband. 

“Never again wife” 

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