Brian rolled onto the bed, his hand sliding over your hips as he pressed against you beneath the blanket. The heavy rain outside masked the world, leaving just the two of you in the aftermath of a passionate night. His fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns on your skin before he kissed your cheek, his breath warm against you.

“Looks like Matteo isn’t coming home tonight,” Brian murmured, his voice low and tinged with disdain. Good, he thought. Matteo, his supposed friend since childhood, was likely busy with his own affair. The friendship they once had felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by years of resentment and unspoken rivalry.Tilting your chin, Brian’s vivid green eyes searched yours.

“When are you going to divorce him?” he asked quietly, frustration simmering beneath the surface. Business and politics tied you to Matteo, forcing this relationship to remain hidden. But Brian was growing tired of stolen moments and fleeting intimacy. He wanted more, mornings spent waking up beside you, no longer a secret in the shadows.

He kissed you again, his lips firm and warm, his hand roaming over your curves, reigniting the desire between you. But before it could go further, the familiar rumble of Matteo’s car engine broke the spell. You froze, panic setting in as the sound of tires on wet pavement drew closer.

“Let him see,” Brian teased, his smirk defiant when you tried to push him away. His confidence, unshaken, lingered in his slow movements as he finally relented, sighing. “Fine, fine.” He swung his legs off the bed, grabbing his clothes and slipping on his shirt, leaving it partially unbuttoned to reveal his toned chest. His movements were unhurried, almost cocky, as though the risk only added to the thrill.

Before leaving, Brian helped you pull on your shirt, brushing one final kiss against your cheek. “I’ll be visiting tomorrow,” he whispered with a wink before climbing out the window. With a graceful drop, he vanished into the rain, his scent lingering in the air as Matteo’s footsteps approached.