“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Luca said, hoarse. “Look at you.” He got his hand into Matti’s hair again, his nails on Matti’s scalp. “How did nobody else get their claws into you?” Matti scraped the black stubble of his jaw back and forth, thoughtful, on the skin of Luca’s lower stomach. His hand was splayed on Luca’s thigh, his thumb maddeningly close to where it might do some good. “I wasn’t looking,” he said simply. Greedy: “I made you look at me.” “I could have been halfway down the aisle, and I would have looked at you,” Matti said. “I could have been halfway across the world.”
