Married to the Wrong CEO

Chapter 102: Unbelievable!

The kiss was sweeter than any she had ever experienced—and she had experienced a lot.

It caught her off guard, that sweetness. Not because she hadn’t expected him to kiss well, but because it felt unguarded, almost careless, as though he had momentarily forgotten himself. His lips were warm, firm but unhurried, moving against hers with a confidence that made her breath hitch almost instantly. She barely had time to register the texture of his mouth before she felt his tongue press slowly, deliberately, against her lips, coaxing them apart.

When she yielded, it was instinctive.

The warmth of his tongue was different from the warmth of his lips—deeper, more intimate—and she felt a soft sound slip from her throat as he slid it into her mouth. He didn’t rush. Instead, he explored, curling his tongue around hers in a way that made her knees weaken as she leaned into him, her palms flattening against his chest.

God, he’s solid, she thought hazily.

His chest was rock hard beneath her hands, muscle packed tight beneath fabric that did little to hide it. She could feel his strength without him doing anything at all, and the realization sent a sharp pulse of heat straight through her. He smelled good too—clean, masculine, something faintly smoky beneath it all—and the scent only made everything feel more intoxicating.

It became even better when she felt his hand slide around her waist, firm fingers pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. Their bodies pressed together, heat meeting heat, and Llara forgot—completely forgot—where they were.

Outside the cubicle, there was still loud chatter and bursts of giggling from the group of girls loitering by the sinks, but Llara couldn’t have cared less. The noise faded into nothing, background static compared to the man in front of her and the rush of desire coiling low in her stomach.

This moment was hers.

Him.

And the need that had been simmering since she’d first noticed him now burned openly as she leaned in again, kissing him more fiercely than before.

There was nothing tentative about it this time. She kissed him like she was trying to consume him, like she wanted to memorize the taste of his mouth, the feel of him, in case she never got another chance.

Her hands slid up to his low head of hair , fingers curling into his hair as she kissed him with every breath she had. She was acutely aware of how reckless it was, how exposed they were, but the danger only made it more thrilling.

Her pulse pounded in her ears as she kissed him harder, deeper, desperate to pull some kind of reaction from him.

They were quiet at first, but the sound of their kisses slowly grew louder—soft, wet sounds that echoed far too clearly in the cramped space. Llara barely noticed until she felt his hands move, gliding lower along her back, settling at the curve of her waist and then the crook of her spine.

A soft moan slipped free before she could stop it.

The sensation was maddening. Her body reacted instantly, arching closer, demanding more even as her mind screamed that this was insane. She pressed into him, her lips parting as she whispered breathlessly against his mouth, More.

And then—

He pulled away.

The sudden absence of him left her disoriented, her lips still parted in protest as disappointment washed over her.

She wanted to continue, heck she already had plans for how to proceed. She barely had time to process it before she felt his finger press gently against her mouth, silencing whatever she’d been about to say.

That was when she realized how quiet it had become outside the cubicle.

Her heart, already racing, began to pound even faster.

"Amelia! What are you doing?" one of the girls asked suddenly, her voice sharp with impatience.

Llara froze, every muscle going rigid.

There was a brief pause before Amelia responded, her voice uncertain. "...I thought I heard weird noises coming from—"

She didn’t get to finish.

"Of course you heard weird noises," her friend whispered back irritably. "The person is clearly pooping."

Llara’s breath caught in her chest, panic and barely restrained laughter tangling together as her heart hammered wildly. She could hear footsteps drawing closer, and she had to clamp her lips shut to keep from making a sound.

"I could have sworn it was the sound of kissing," Amelia insisted.

Oh my God, please walk away, Llara thought, her gaze flicking to Matteo’s face in the dim light.

There was a loud rustling sound—bags being packed in a hurry, heels shifting against tile.

"Let’s go," the friend snapped. "We can’t spend all night in the bathroom. Who in their right mind would kiss in a bathroom?"

The footsteps retreated, the sound of them fading slowly until there was nothing but silence again.

It wasn’t until then that Llara finally exhaled, her body sagging with relief. She glanced up at the man in front of her—only to see him already unlocking the cubicle door.

Before she could say anything, he stepped out.

Mildly panicked, Llara scrambled down from the toilet seat and followed him, slipping out just in time to close the door behind her. The harsh bathroom lighting felt jarring after the dim intimacy of the cubicle.

Matteo—whose name she found disturbingly hard to forget—didn’t look at her.

He walked straight to the sink, turning on the tap and washing his hands with calm, unhurried movements, as though nothing significant had just happened. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped the lipstick from his lips with practiced ease.

The gesture stung more than she expected.

Like it’s his bathroom, she thought bitterly.

She moved to the mirror beside him, washing her hands as well, though her eyes were fixed on her reflection. Her lips were still red, swollen, but the glossy sheen was gone. She glanced at Matteo through the mirror, unable to stop herself from admiring him even now.

He stood a few steps away, composed, distant.

No, she decided. I’m not letting this end like that.

Turning off the tap, she stepped closer, closing the space between them deliberately. There was no point pretending anymore.

"We could have sex," she said bluntly.

He finally looked at her.

"A one-off thing," she continued quickly. "Something to clear the air."

His gaze settled on her, heavy and unreadable, and she held it, staring straight back into his eyes. Her heart raced, but she refused to look away.

"There’s absolutely no way you don’t want me," she added, convinced after that kiss that he had felt exactly what she did.

The words that came out of his mouth shattered that certainty.

"I’ll pass. I’m not interested in having a one-night stand." ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

Her mouth literally dropped open.

"What?" she stuttered, staring at him as if he’d suddenly grown a second head.

"You have a girlfriend?" she demanded, irritation bubbling up when he shook his head.

He turned away, heading for the exit.

"Then what’s the problem?" she asked, hating how desperate she sounded. She followed him out into the main corridor where two hallways met, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. "I only do one-night stands!"

He didn’t answer immediately, and that silence snapped something in her. freēwēbnovel.com

She reached out and grabbed him, pulling him to a stop. He was too big for her to force, but he stopped anyway, whether by choice or courtesy she didn’t know.

"If you don’t want to fuck me, all you have to do is say it!" she snapped, anger flaring hot and sharp. She hated how much she wanted him, hated how cold he was being about it.

Matteo looked down at her coolly, taking her in as if she were a small, fiery thing making too much noise. Considering the height difference, everyone was little to him.

The kiss had been better than he remembered.

If circumstances were different, he would have taken her right there. But reality was less forgiving. The drugs he was on were heavy, suffocating, and the last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself by failing when it mattered.

No miracles were coming.

"I’m not interested in fucking you," he said coldly meeting her gaze before he turned around to walk away.

Then he turned and walked away, not sparing her a single glance.

Llara stood there, stunned, watching his broad back disappear down the corridor as the weight of the moment finally crashed over her.

Unbelievable, she thought, her chest tight with something dangerously close to bruised pride.

And for the first time in a long while, she didn’t know whether she was more furious—or more shaken by the fact that he had walked away at all expecting that they would at least come to an agreement.

The last thing she expected was to be rejected by someone she had no intention of sleeping with more than once.