A Hunger for the Forbidden by Maisey Yates Read Free Book Online Page A

ahold of Matteo, not knowing what she would do if she didn’t, and now he was suddenly in her life like a hurricane, uprooting everything, taking control of everything.
    She really shouldn’t be too surprised about it. That was one thing she did know about Matteo Corretti, beyond that stupid ream of noninformation he’d given her. He was controlled. Totally. Completely.
    Twice she’d seen him lose that control. Once, on a sunny day in Sicily while he was staying at his grandparents’ rural estate. The day that had cemented him in her mind as her potential salvation.
    And their night in New York. There had been no control then, not for either of them.
    She pictured him as he’d been then. The way he’d looked at her in the low light of the bar. She closed her eyes and she was back there. The memory still so strong, so painfully sweet.
    “What brings you to New York, Alessia?”
    “Bachelorette party.” It was easy enough to leave out that it was for her. If he didn’t know about Alessandro, then she wouldn’t tell him.
    “Did you order any strippers?”
    Her cheeks heated. “No, gosh, why? Are you offering to fill the position?”
    “How much have you had to drink?” he asked, a smile on his face. It was so rare for her to see him smile. She couldn’t remember if she ever had.
    “Not enough.”
    “I could fix that, but I think I’d like a dance and if you’re too drunk you won’t be able to keep up.”
    “Why are you talking to me?” she asked. She’d known there was a chance he could be here. He owned the hotel, after all. Part of her had hoped she’d catch a glimpse of him. A little bit of torture, but torture that would be well worth it.
    “What do you mean?”
    “You haven’t spoken to me since—” somethingflashed in his eyes, a strange unease, and she redirected her words “—in a long time.”
    “Too long,” he said, his voice rough.
    Her heart fluttered, a surge of hope moving through her. She tried to crush it, tried to stop the jittery feelings moving through her now.
    “So, do you have a dance for me?” he asked. “For an old friend?”
    “Yes.” She couldn’t deny him, couldn’t deny herself.
    She left her friends in the corner of the bar, at their table with all of their fruity drinks, and let Matteo lead her away from them, lead her to the darkened dance floor. A jazz quartet was playing, the music slow and sensual.
    He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his body. Heat shot through her, heat and desire and lust.
    His eyes locked with hers as they swayed in time to the music, and she was powerless to resist the desire to lean in and press her lips to his. His tongue touched the tip of hers, a shot of need so sharp, so strong, assaulting her she thought it would buckle her knees then and there.
    She parted her lips for him, wrapping her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair. Years of fantasies added fuel to the moment.
    Matteo Corretti was her ultimate fantasy. The man whose name she called out in her sleep. The man she wanted, more than anything. And this was her last chance.
    Panic drove her, made her desperate. She deepened the kiss, her movements clumsy. She didn’t know how to make out. She’d never really done it before. Another thing that added fuel to the fire.
    She’d never lived. She’d spent all of her life at the Battaglia
castello
, taking care of her siblings, making sure her family didn’t crumble. Her life existed for the comfort of others, and she needed a moment, a night, to have something different.
    To have something for her.
    Matteo pulled away from her, his chest rising and falling heavily with each indrawn breath. “We cannot do that here.”
    She shook her head. “Apparently not.” The fire between them was burning too hot, too fast, threatening to rage out of control.
    “I have a suite.” A smile curved his lips. “I own the hotel.”
    She laughed, nervous, breathless. She flexed her fingers, where