You were in living room, you were flipping through the tape on your phone, and he was watching you, grinning, although there was nothing fun in watching your wife look at the phone without paying attention to him. “Je préférerais t’avoir assise sur mon visage.” Matteo spoke suddenly in French. You looked up from your phone, narrowing your eyes with curiosity “What did you just say?” Matteo smirked lazily, leaning back against the couch. “Nothing interesting.” “Matteo.” Your voice held a warning, already sensing he was hiding something. “You don’t speak French, ma chérie.” He reached for your wrist, fingers curling around it gently as he pulled you closer. “I don’t think you need to know.” “Matteo.” You gave him a pointed look, refusing to let it go. He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Fine.” Matteo suddenly leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “I said I’d rather have you sitting on my face.” You pulled back, but he didn’t let go of your wrist, his grip tightening slightly as a slow grin spread across his lips. “You… You’re insufferable.” “And yet, you still love me.” He smirked, fingers threading into your hair as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Don’t you, ma belle?”