Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Alessia
The breath whooshes out of my body when he reaches over to unfasten my safety belt and yank me across his lap. “Matteo!”
He’d instructed Nash to pull over into a vacant parking lot, away from lights and cameras. Once the car was parked, Matteo raised the privacy screen between us and the front seat.
“What are you doing?” I thrash, trying to escape.
“Admiring my fiancée.” He lifts my dress.
“Matteo! I mean it. Stop this right now.” A terrible arousal flares in me. But no matter how often I tell myself I want nothing to do with him, my body reacts to him as if I’ve craved him my whole life.
“Beautiful panties.”
Dusk has fallen, and because the windows are tinted so darkly, we have complete privacy.
“You bought them.” They’re a little skimpy for my tastes, but the silkiness is luxurious against my skin.
He gathers the material and pulls it tight between my thighs. Then he begins to abrade my clit with the silkiness. I nearly launch myself off his lap.
Because I’m still flailing, he clamps one of his hands around my waist, using his elbow to put pressure on my back, keeping me down. My hair has fallen around me, and I’m trapped, helpless.
Desperate, I continue to try to escape.
“You’re making this harder on yourself.” He jostles me, capturing my legs between his strong ones.
“Please. Stop. I’ll behave.”
“Oh. You will. Most definitely. But I promised a taste of what happens when you try me. Later, you’ll experience the other. And you can decide which you prefer.”
The monster feathers his fingers between my thighs. “You hate this?”
Gasping, I go rigid. My reaction to him is humiliating.
“You can’t win, Alessia. So give in.”
If I keep struggling, disobeying him, will he continue to do this? And if I behave, will he stop?
I’m not sure which is worse.
Still holding the material tight against my pussy, he uses a finger to circle my clit.
Instantly I’m turned on.
“You’re wet for me, little rebel.”
Frantically I shake my head. More lies. Since I can smell the tanginess of my arousal, I know he can too.
“You’re a passionate woman.”
I am, but how does he know that about me?
“I’m sure you’ve explored those passions.” He’s quiet for a moment, and I hear the sound of his breathing, imagine the thump of his heart. “Or are you a virgin, Alessia?”
Maybe he’s hoping for a pure bride. And maybe he’ll let me go and decide to marry someone else when he learns I’m not innocent. “No.”
“Good.”
That was the last thing that I expected him to say. “Good?” I repeat, trying to turn my head to face him. All I can see are his powerful legs.
“Then I don’t have to worry about waiting until after the wedding.”
As if a man like Matteo would be patient about anything.
“I want you to be free with me, Alessia.” His voice is gruff with sensual demand.
“Not interested.” But I am. So very, very much.
He laughs, a triumphant, mocking sound. “Shall I stop?”
I’ll die if he stops touching me.
“Beg for it.” He presses my clit, and I instinctively clench my buttocks. “Tell me what you want.”
Never.
“Then tell me to stop.” He circles my clit slowly, and I’m drenched. “Tell me not to slide my finger deep inside you.”
God. My breathing turns ragged, and I’m still fighting him, but each movement creates a delicious friction that drives me madder.
“Alessia?”
I can’t answer him. Instead, I part my legs, letting my body speak for me.
He slides inside my panties.
The skin-on-skin contact is thrilling and maddening. I arch my back, trying to communicate what I so hungrily want.
“Such a needy little rebel.”
He teases my pussy.
“Ask me to finger-fuck you.”
I writhe.
“The words, Alessia.”
“You’re a beast.”
“Whose touch you’re desperate for.”
He continues to play with my clit, and an orgasm starts to uncoil deep inside me.
“Admit it.” He slides his finger a little bit deeper, then back.
Then, frustratingly, all the way out, and I whimper in protest.
Slowly he takes his finger off my clit, then moves my panties back into place. I’m shaking with unfulfilled desire.
He flips my dress down before helping me to sit up.
He’s wearing an awful, gloating smile when he maneuvers me back into my seat and reaches over me to fasten me in.
Going out of my mind, I press my legs together.
“Problem?” he asks.
I glare even as he raps on the glass to let Nash know we’re ready to be underway.
As we get closer to home and pass beneath a streetlight, I look over at him. The front of his pants is tented. He might have tormented me, but he caused an issue for himself as well. “Problem, Matteo?” Unable to resist temptation, I brush my hand down his massive erection.
Lightning fast, he captures my wrist. “Consider this my one chance to let you make another decision.” He leans toward me, breathing the same air, tension threatening to combust between us. “Because I’m warning you, Alessia. If you close your hand around my cock, I’ll have you on top of me in an instant, and I’ll fuck you ragged.”
His words are growled, making me shiver. Was that a threat? Or a promise? I don’t dare admit how much I’d like him to do exactly that.
Slowly, very slowly, I pull my hand away.
“Smart girl.”
We arrive at his stunning Tanglewood home that resembles a sprawling Italian villa with terracotta brick, ivy-covered walls, and elegant turrets. From the front, it’s easy to forget it’s a beautiful fortress.
But I know better. There’s an entire wing locked behind reinforced doors, with cameras and motion sensors monitoring every inch. Inside, there are rooms for secrets, weapons, and escape plans—a constant reminder of a life I want nothing to do with.
Even though I am staying here, I could never call this place home, no matter how beautiful.
After we pass through the iron gates, Nash drives us around the side to park in the back of the mansion, near the two sets of garages.
When I was at Elysian Hall, I had a small room, and I was completely happy. Here, all my needs are anticipated and met. Being here hasn’t changed anything for me. I’d much rather enjoy a simpler life.
As always, Matteo assists me from the vehicle, but this time he keeps hold of me, drawing me closer and placing one hand on my back, holding me captive.
Against my belly, his cock is still hard, and I instantly respond to him.
“We have unfinished business.”
The sane part of me wants to flee. But a far more dangerous impulse tempts me to experience everything he’s offering.
“That will be all for the night,” he tells Nash after checking the security panel.
“Yes, sir.” He nods toward me. “Ma’am.”
He’s not going far, however. Nash has an apartment above one of the garages. He’s never more than thirty seconds away from anything Matteo needs.
“Now …” Matteo ensures the house alarm is set. Then he faces me.
Swallowing deeply, I desperately search for a means of escape. “It’s …ah …late.”
He grins. “Not even eight o’clock.”
I retreat until I’m brought up short by the kitchen’s marble-topped island.
“Come here.” He remains in place but crooks his finger in my direction.
Frantically I glance toward the entrance, where the staircase will take me to my room. But I know Matteo is faster than I am.
“You want to do as I say.”
His words are hypnotic.
I take a tentative step forward, my heart pounding in my chest. “No,” I whisper, unsure which one of us I’m trying to convince.
“You want to know what happens next.” His voice is a low, seductive rumble. “You want me to finish what we started. If nothing else, you’re curious.”
He takes another step, then another, until he’s standing right in front of me. His gaze is intense, hungry, as he looks down at me.
“Face away from me,” he commands softly. “Put your hands on the island.”
This can’t be happening.
My breath coming in short little bursts, I turn my back to him.
“Such a good girl.”
He’s close enough that his heat radiates against me.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulls down the zipper of my dress, his knuckles brushing against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
After brushing the material off my shoulders, he moves it down my arms. Then it whooshes down my body to pool at my feet.
I can’t believe I’m mostly naked in his kitchen. I’m exposed, vulnerable. My pulse is fluttering, and yet my sense of self-preservation is gone. He’s right. I do want to know what happens next.
In the car, he’d been sexy rather than scary.
“You’re exquisite, Alessia,” he murmurs. With tenderness he shouldn’t be capable of, he traces the line of my shoulder. “Absolutely fucking exquisite.”
The man I swear I don’t want reaches around me to cup my breasts through my bra. With a soft moan, I arch into his touch. Through the silky material, he sweeps his thumbs over my nipples, and they harden instantly.
“So responsive.” His approval is my sustenance. “Now face me.” He takes a half step back, barely leaving any space between us. “Now take it off.” He growls the command against my ear. “Let me see what’s mine.”
I’m riveted to the spot, unable to deny him anything.
Then, as if I have no mind of my own, I reach back to unhook the bra. It falls away, leaving my breasts bare.
Feeling ridiculously shy, I angle my face away from him, but he captures my chin, making me look at him.
His appreciation is evident in his sharp intake of breath.
He takes the weight of my breasts into his hand and once more brushes his thumbs over my nipples. They’re even harder now. The need I felt in the car is back and even stronger than before.
“Now the panties,” he orders. “Take them off.”
How am I letting this happen? When I’m around Matteo, it’s as if my body has a mind of its own.
My hands are shaking as I hook my thumbs into the waistband. Then I wiggle the silk down over my hips and then drop it to the floor.
“Beautiful.”
My gaze is locked on his gorgeous face.
“Now hand them to me.”
I blink.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, little rebel. You won’t like the consequences.”
His voice is so growly that it sends a shiver through me.
Completely naked, flushed with arousal and the thrill of the unknown, I obey.
He takes the small scrap of material from me and raises it to his nose. “I fucking love the way you get hot for me.”
I want to deny the truth of what he says, but the words stick in my throat.
Motions deliberate, he pockets my panties. Then he shrugs out of his suit coat and casually tosses it over the back of a barstool. “Move over there.” He points to a spot a small distance away.
The blinds are open. Because of the tint on the windows, I know that no one can see in, and yet the whisper of warning from my brain only enhances my arousal.
I’d never considered myself an exhibitionist. But then again, I had posed for Gabriel’s art class.
“Spread your legs wider.”
At least at Elysian Hall, I was covered by something, even if it was sheer.
I do as he says, and my pussy throbs with awareness.
Taking his sweet time, he allows his gaze to sweep over me, taking in every curve, every secret place. I’ve never felt more desired, more wanted.
“You’re a vision, Alessia. And you’re all mine. No one will ever again see your naked body.”
His words are possessive, something I usually rebel against. So why aren’t I arguing with him?
“You still need to be punished for that.”
“Punished?” I gasp. “For what?”
“Taking off your clothes for another man.”
“That’s outrageous. I didn’t take my clothes off for any man.” My protest is instant. “In fact?—”
He holds up his hand to interrupt me. “Did he ask you to model for him?” His words are quiet, wrapped in lethal intensity. In jealousy?
“Everyone in the class is expected to take a turn.”
“Who was first to strip themselves naked?” His voice is low, well controlled, slightly terrifying.
I draw in a shaky breath.
“Who, Alessia?”
I don’t have to answer for him to guess the truth.
“We were engaged at the time.” He takes a step toward me.
“That’s untrue.” Frantically I shake my head. “I never agreed to anything. Our families made the arrangement, and I was never consulted. And I don’t like being told what to do. Certainly not by my father and definitely not by you.”
“You were promised to me.” His contradiction is as swift as it is cold. “The fact you refused to come home or answer my messages changes nothing.”
Is my future, my autonomy, irrelevant?
Before I can say anything else, he takes a step toward me. “Keep arguing, Alessia. I’m happy to add more strokes to your punishment.”
His words make me even needier.
He’s a lethal man with a ridiculous moral code. He’s beyond gray. And yet that knowledge gives me the power to stand my ground.
Duty and family come first.
In his mind, we’re engaged, and his ring is on my hand. To him, we are probably already married. And because he’s the kind of man he is, he will be considerate of me. Maybe not kind to me, but he won’t mistreat me. Watching him interact with his mother confirmed that for me. He was respectful and loving. Deep down, he believes women are to be protected and nurtured.
That doesn’t mean he is a pushover with me. But I know he will never physically harm me.
“In the living room, Alessia.”
I lick my lower lip. I’m so very aware of my vulnerability. He’s still dressed, and he’s large, intimidating.
“Move it.” The words are clipped. “Unless you want me to throw you over my shoulder again?”
His threat galvanizes me. His shoulder had dug into me in a way that was more painful than uncomfortable.
Pivoting away from him, I walk to the living room, my heels echoing off the rich, dark oak flooring.
Near the fireplace, I stop and face him. The air is chilled, keeping my nipples hard and sending goose bumps chasing up my arms.
Matteo removes his cufflinks and tosses them on a nearby end table. Emeralds in the gold sparkle beneath the overhead lights.
Mesmerized, I watch as he rolls up his sleeves, exposing his corded forearms. Every movement is controlled and deliberate, stretching my nerves tighter and tighter.
“I want you on the coffee table, on all fours.” His tone holds a note of implacability.
I hesitate, my heart thumping as if I’m a wild animal caught in a trap. I should run, but the dark promise in his eyes keeps me rooted in place.
“Alessia …”
Hardly able to think, my motions mechanical, I follow his instructions.
“Your sweet ass faced toward me.”
Awkwardly I move.
“Good girl.” His voice holds a purr of approval that I could mainline. “Now place your forehead on the wood. I want to see a beautiful arch to your back.”
Which will also thrust my rear toward him more.
Forcing out a breath as I try to steady myself, I do as he says.
“God, Alessia.” His strides echoing with confidence, he closes the distance between us.
Then he curves his palms against my rear, making me sway toward him.
Painfully he digs his fingers into my flesh. “This is mine.”
“Yes.” I shouldn’t admit it, but I can’t help myself.
“You have no idea what you do to me.” His husky tone is threaded with desire. “Every curve, every inch of you is perfection.”
He’s going to spank me, punish me for something I’d do all over again. Yet the thought of his hands on me, of him taking control, has me throbbing with need.
He rubs his hands over my ass, squeezing gently. I squirm.
“Keep still.”
The man who wants to be my husband continues to caress my ass, his touch becoming firmer, more insistent.
Then, without warning, he slides a hand between my thighs. I’m already wet from his earlier teasing, and my response is instantaneous. With a tiny moan, I move against his hand.
“So eager, little rebel.” He presses his thumb against my clit, and I try to jerk away. I’m still tender from the way he wedged my panties into my crotch earlier.
He begins to circle the small bundle of nerves. In response, my hips buck as waves of pleasure radiate from his touch.
He teases me mercilessly, bringing me to the edge of orgasm before backing off, leaving me panting and desperate.
I try to grind against his hand, seeking the release I so desperately crave, but he holds me firmly in place, denying me any control. “Keep still.”
Then he slides two fingers deep inside me and begins to fuck me. I cry out, and my body clenches around him as he thrusts in and out, his pace deliberate and maddeningly slow. With his other hand, he presses against my anus, not entering, just applying enough pressure to send a forbidden thrill chasing through me.
“Matteo …” I shake with need.
The combination of sensation—of his fingers inside me, his thumb on my clit, and the pressure against my ass—is overwhelming. I’m teetering on the brink of an explosive orgasm, every part of me consumed with desire.
“Not yet, Alessia,” he commands. “You’ll come when I say you come.”
He’s denying me an orgasm?
On and on he goes, finger-fucking me, his pace increasing, his touch becoming rougher, more demanding. I’m a writhing, moaning mess, and my body has completely surrendered to his.
The pleasure is intense, almost unbearable, and I know I won’t be able to hold back much longer.
“Please, Matteo,” I beg, my voice barely recognizable. “Please let me come.”
Instead, he stops entirely and steps back.
Shaking, I lift my head. Eyes wide, I search his face.
“Stay in position, Alessia.”
I shake my head. He can’t mean that. “I’m?—”
“You’re being punished,” he reminds me, a stern note in his voice.
I thought he was a terrible human being, but he’s much, much worse. No one has ever turned me inside out with desire before.
Being this turned on is physically painful. “I’ve been tormented enough, Matteo.”
“I’m just beginning, sweet rebel.”
He takes another small step back, and I clench my buttocks, bracing for what’s coming.
“Relax.”
Relax? The man is certifiable.
Instead of the sharp sting I expect, he begins to rub my butt cheeks, softly at first, then more vigorously. The heat generated by his touch is surprisingly soothing, and I can’t help but push back against his hand.
“That’s it, little rebel.” His words are soft, mesmerizing. “Feel the heat. Let it sink into your skin.”
He moves his hand in slow, deliberate circles.
Then, without warning, he lifts his hand and brings it down sharply on my right cheek.
I yelp, more from surprise than pain. The sting is there, but it’s swiftly followed by a rush of arousal.
“Again,” he says. “Count for me, Alessia.”
He smacks the other cheek, and the sound echoes through the room.
“Two,” I manage.
He spanks me again.
I gasp.
“Count it.”
“Three.”
With deliberate precision, he continues, each smack a little harder than the last, the heat building, spreading, merging with the throbbing ache between my thighs.
After the next one, he pauses. “What number are we on?”
“Six,” I guess.
“Five,” he corrects.
In a whisper, I repeat the number.
Surprising me, he pauses to rub my skin, his touch gentle and soothing. Then he dips his fingers between my thighs, teasing my clit, sliding through my wetness, igniting the flames of my desire all over again.
“So wet, Alessia,” he murmurs. “So responsive. You were made for this. Made for me.”
Then he resumes the spanking, each smack pushing me higher, closer to the edge. I’m a mess of sensation, pain and pleasure merged into one overwhelming need.
After each set of five, he stops once more to torment me.
I’m not sure which is worse, the sharp slaps or the need to come.
When he reaches twenty, I’m sobbing, not from pain but from the ache deep inside me.
I’m crying out for him, begging him. My body burns everywhere.
“Learned your lesson?”
“Yes!”
“Tell me what it is.”
“You’re the only one who gets to see me naked.”
“That’s good for starters.”
He resumes spanking me and fingering me. Another ten is my undoing. I’m on fire, going out of my mind.
“And what else?”
A large tear splashes onto the wood beneath me. I have no idea what he means.
Then he reaches beneath me to palm my breasts and tug on my nipples, elongating them. “Matteo.”
“That’s right, Alessia.” He twists my nipples lightly. “Say my name. Scream it if you must.” With that, he digs his fingers into my hips, gripping me possessively. “Now if you have any hope of ever climaxing, you’d better tell me what I want to hear.”
Suddenly realization dawns. I know exactly what he’s demanding from me. “Yours, Matteo. I’m yours.”
“No one else sees you, touches you. Clear?”
He means every word.
Right now, I’d say anything, do anything just to end his sensual torture. “Yes. I understand.”
The moment I agree, he scoops me up, then places me on the couch, the cool leather a shock against my feverish skin.
Before I can even catch my breath, Matteo captures my ankles and lifts them.
“Spread your legs wide and keep them open.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m completely exposed to him.
“You’re drenched, Alessia. Such a pretty pussy.” He slides two fingers inside me, and I arch off the couch, whimpering. “So fucking tight and wet.”
He begins to move his fingers, curling them to hit a spot that makes me see stars. I’m already so close to the edge that it’s humiliating. But he doesn’t let me go over. Not yet.
He takes a place on the couch, leaning in, his breath hot against my skin. Then his tongue is on me, licking, sucking, devouring me.
Writhing, I grab hold of his shoulders. “Matteo … please …” I’m desperate, but I don’t care. I need this. I need him.
He slides a third finger inside me.
“Oh, God!”
Matteo stretches me, fills me.
Very deliberately, he flicks his tongue against my clit, applying just the right amount of pressure. The sensation is so overwhelming that I’m tense, ready to snap.
But he doesn’t let me come. Not yet.
Instead he slides his fingers out of me, and I whimper at the loss. But then he’s trailing them lower, circling my tightest hole, pressing gently.
I instantly go still.
“Ever been fucked here, Alessia?” he asks. “Have you?”
I shake my head.
“Open your eyes. Look at me. Tell me your answer.”
I meet his gaze. His eyes are intense, filled with desire and determination. “No. I’ve never … There.”
“Then I’m your first. And your last.”
I want him to, want him to claim every part of me.
He uses my own arousal to lubricate his fingertip. Then he eases it inside me, and I whimper at the invasion. The touch is foreign, but I like it. He goes slow, letting me adjust, and then he slides in deeper, his other hand reaching up to pinch one of my nipples.
The combination of sensations is overwhelming. I’m full, stretched, and the slight pain only amplifies the pleasure.
“So tight” His gaze never leaves mine as he begins to move his finger in and out of my ass, syncing the motion with the thrusts of his tongue against my clit.
The dual sensation is incredible, and I can feel my orgasm building again, stronger this time. My body is on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. I’m close, so close …
But just as I’m about to tumble over the edge, he stops again. I let out a frustrated cry. Damn him.
“Let go, Alessia.” Matteo’s command is an insistent rumble against my heated flesh. “Grind your pussy against my mouth. Fuck my face. Take what you need.”
His words are filthy, and a part of me recoils at the explicit demand. But another part—a deeper, more primal part—aches to obey.
“Matteo, I … I can’t do this,” I protest weakly.
He looks up at me, his chin glistening with my arousal. “You can. And you will. You’re going to be my wife, Alessia. Everything between us is sacred. You will be obedient in this.”
Embarrassed beyond words, I lift my hips.
“Keep going.”
In small, needy circles, I move my hips.
“Let go,” he tells me again. “Fuck my face.”
Still, I hesitate. I’m trembling from uncertainty. What he’s demanding of me feels wrong, but it also feels so right. I’m torn, caught between modesty and the desperate need to come. And to please him.
He senses my hesitation and growls, “Do it, Alessia. Or we’re finished here.”
Matteo’s face is set in a serious line, telling me he’s deadly serious.
“I want to taste your orgasm on my tongue.”
His words make me shiver.
I take a deep breath, then another. Then I finally give in.
Holding onto his shoulders even harder, I squeeze my eyes shut, then begin to gyrate in earnest, rubbing my pussy against his mouth, fucking his face like he commanded.
He groans in approval, the sound vibrating against my clit, crashing waves of pleasure through me.
Sensing my surrender, he picks up the pace, his tongue lashing against my clit, his fingers moving in and out of my pussy and ass, claiming every part of me.
I tense, and my breaths turn into frantic little gasps. I’m so close, so very close. “Matteo …”
“Come, Alessia. Come in my mouth.”
With one final flick of his tongue, I shatter, my body convulsing as waves of intense pleasure wash over me.
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, drawing out my orgasm until I’m screaming his name, my voice raw with completion.
Just as I start to come down, he crooks his fingers inside me, hitting that spot that makes me see stars, and I come again, even harder this time. He drinks it all in, his mouth never leaving my pussy, his fingers never stopping their relentless assault.
He forces me to come again and again, until I’m shaking, pleading with him to stop, insisting that I can’t take anymore. Only then does he begin to slow down, gently licking me clean as I twitch and shudder with the aftershocks of my orgasms.
When he finally pulls away, his face is flushed, and lust flares in the depths of his stunning eyes.
He climbs up my body, capturing my mouth in a deep, possessive kiss. I can taste myself on his lips, and it’s dirty and erotic and perfect.
“I mean it, Alessia. You are mine.” He whispers the words against my lips. “Every inch of you belongs to me. Admit it.”
Right now, if not forever, I belong to Matteo Moretti. “Yours,” I whisper.
A few moments later, he stands and lowers my legs before covering me with a blanket. “Stay where you are.”
I’m not sure I could move or that I want to.
He leaves me alone, and water runs in the nearby powder room.
When he returns, he bathes my pussy and cleans me up.
No man has ever treated me this well.
“That’s what happens when you’re a bad girl. Want to find out what happens when you are a good girl?”