Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Alessia
The sweet, rich scents of vanilla and fresh-brewed coffee tease me. Either that, or my imagination is in overdrive because of how badly I need caffeine this morning. After all, I got very little sleep.
Even after the scene in the living room and having mind-blowing sex in his bedroom last night, he made love to me again.
Sometime after midnight, maybe sensing that I was being watched, I blinked open my eyes.
In the ambient light from the backyard, I saw Matteo looking at me. I was snuggled close to him, and one of his hands was toying with my hair.
Without any words being exchanged, he kissed me, then slowly and sweetly made love to me.
Before I’d even come completely awake, I was back asleep, protected in his arms. Because I’d been so relaxed and sensually worn out, I ended up sleeping a full hour later than I normally do
Moments later, Matteo enters the bathroom, carrying a steaming mug.
“Is that mine?” I ask hopefully. In the mornings, he usually has espresso, and he takes it without cream or sugar. “Please tell me that’s mine.”
“It is.” But the awful man keeps it close. “For a price.”
“Oh?” From the way his eyes are narrowed, I can guess what he’s talking about.
A little over half an hour ago, I awoke to the sight of Matteo returning to the bedroom wearing only a pair of shorts with a towel draped around his shoulders.
His honed body glowed from perspiration, and an unruly lock of hair had fallen across his shoulder. I shouldn’t be surprised that he works out hard. After all, a body like his requires a lot of work.
He suggested we shower together, and he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off me. And he didn’t step out until after he’d used his hand to bring me off twice. His appetite seems insatiable, and I wonder how I will survive him.
“Price?” I repeat, my mouth starting to water.
“Drop the robe.”
“But …” In the last twelve hours, I’ve had more orgasms than I’ve had in the last two years.
“I want to look at your ass, see if you have any marks from your spanking.”
He had plenty of opportunities to look while we were in the shower together.
But his expression is serious. And he’s still holding my coffee for ransom.
Since his request is totally unnecessary, I say, “Everything is fine.”
“I didn’t ask if it was.”
Matteo is full of contrasts. Kind and considerate as well as stern and unmovable.
“Now do as I say.”
He’s still holding my coffee, so I sigh and relent, following his instructions.
“Now turn around.”
For a moment, I hesitate. Since I prefer to read his expressions, I’m not a fan of having my back to him.
“Do it, Alessia.”
Swallowing deeply, I comply.
“Good.” His tone is a sexy growl of approval. “Now bend over the vanity and spread your legs wide.”
Is there any end to his demands?
The stone is cold against my body, and my nipples tighten.
“You should always be available for me.” He sets my drink near me, then cups my ass cheeks and squeezes hard, making my breath whoosh out. “No reminders of your spanking.” He makes a sound of disappointment. “I’ll have to remedy that.”
He wants his marks on me?
Is he going to spank me now? Here? I tense, waiting for him to begin. Instead he surprises me.
“You’re such a good girl. You’ve earned your coffee.”
I stand, and he is holding my robe.
After accepting it and knotting the belt tight, I pick up my coffee.
Sharing a room with him is complicated. I’d be much safer behind my locked door just down the hallway.
“We need to talk.”
Picking up my drink, I frown. “About what?”
Matteo is still wearing his robe with an embroidered insignia that I don’t recognize. I’m not accustomed to the informal look, and the fact it’s so intimate is a little uncomfortable.
“Your outing tomorrow.”
Setting my chin, I regard him over the rim of my cup. He’d better not be changing his mind now that we’re alone.
Before I can say anything, he holds up a hand. “I’m not making you cancel your plans.”
Once more, he’s managed to read my mind.
“I’d like to know who you’d prefer to have as a bodyguard.”
“Bodyguard?” I shake my head “I don’t need one.”
“This is not optional.”
“Matteo—”
“Don’t try me, Alessia. Unless you want to stay home.”
After the brief conversation between Bella and the Don at the dinner table, I had a million questions. But from the moment we got in the car after dinner, Matteo had made sure I wasn’t able to think straight.
“Chiara is happy to accept the position. Of course, she won’t be available all the time, but whenever possible, you will be her assignment.”
“Look, Matteo…”
He takes a step toward me. Intimidated, I back up until the vanity stops my retreat.
“I’m being more than generous in letting you choose who protects you. If you have no preference, Nash can work out a schedule with available personnel.”
Personnel. He carefully avoided the word soldiers, as if he’s a businessman instead of a criminal who operates outside the law.
“Whoever is with you will act as your driver and be unobtrusive.”
As unobtrusive as a gun-toting, suit-wearing Mafia operative can be.
I put down my untouched coffee so I don’t spill it. “Does Bella have to have a goon with her at all times?”
“What happens in their marriage is between them. But I can guarantee you, Nico protects her. There’s no doubt she has a driver.” There’s a threatening tic in his temple that I’d be smart to take as the warning it is. “Take it or leave it.” His tone is uncompromising. “If you want to go, you will have a driver.”
“Against my will.”
“Noted.”
Thankfully he backs off.
My pulse is beating frantically, even though I’m pretending to be calm.
With a tight nod, he says, “We understand each other.” Executing a sharp pivot, he heads for his closet.
I pick up my cup. Because I’m shaking so badly, my coffee almost sloshes over the rim.
To steady my frantic pulse, I close my eyes and draw in a steadying breath.
I can’t allow every exchange with Matteo to unnerve me like this. He will run my life if I let him.
Finally somewhat in control, I take the first sip of coffee. It hits my veins hard. Seems my body thinks interactions with Matteo are enough stimulation for me.
Annoyed by his royal decrees, I decide to escape. After getting dressed, I’ll go to my art studio and spend my day there.
But as I pass his closet, I can’t help but stop.
He’s wearing black slacks and a white shirt. As always he’s breathtakingly handsome.
Watching me, he picks up a pair of cufflinks from a tray on top of a built-in closet.
“Will you give me a hand?”
In a thousand different ways, he’s treating me as his wife. I have to remind myself that I don’t share the same vision.
On guard, I walk closer to him, sharing the small, confined space. I set down my cup, and he drops the cufflinks into my palm.
I study them.
There is an owl on each, and they are surrounded by a laurel leaf. Emerald eyes seem to stare at me. I suck in a breath. My father and oldest brother have identical ones. “They have some meaning,” I say. But why would two different families have the same insignia?
“They do.”
“And?”
“I’ll share that information when we’re married.”
So I’m only his bride when it suits him?. “My ring is on your finger,” I point out.
Rather than answer me directly, he hedges. “They represent a society I belong to.”
He’s intrigued me. “What kind of organization?”
“The Zetas.”
I shake my head. I’ve heard of the secret society whose members are known as Titans. Since nothing has ever been confirmed, the organization itself is rumored to be fiction. “That doesn’t really exist.”
“No?”
I thread the first cufflink into place and secure it. Then I take care of the second. “My father has a ring with the same symbol.”
He doesn’t respond, nor does he betray any emotion. Clearly he already knows. Does this have anything to do with our forced marriage?
After adjusting his cuffs, he says, “Thanks for the help.”
Realizing he’s told me all he’s going to, I blow out a breath.
As I brush past him, my cup forgotten, I try not to notice the goose bumps on my arms.
When I reach the open bedroom door, his voice stops me. “Shall I tell Chiara that you declined her offer?”
“No.” I scowl. “If I have to have a bodyguard, she’s as good as anyone.”
He flashes a bright smile. “I’ll be sure to share your enthusiasm for her being willing to put her life on the line for you.”
In frustration, I sigh. I have nothing against Chiara. And I don’t want her to know that I resent her shadowing me. “Don’t be an ass, Matteo.”
In three rapid strides, he’s across the room, and his fingers are biting into my shoulders.
He kicks the door shut, then rips open my belt and shoves the robe from my shoulders.
“Matteo!”
“You’re about to find out what happens to brats.”
As if I weigh nothing, he moves me across the room and forces my chest down on top of the mattress. Then with his foot, he kicks my ankles wide.
Gasping, I turn my head, trying to look at him.
His hand comes down on my left buttock, making me yelp.
Then he lands a second on the right side.
I kick wildly but he still continues, landing several at that tender spot where my upper thighs meet the bottom of my ass cheeks. Damn him. He’s not spanking me hard, the humiliation is too much. “Stop!”
He moves a hand in front of my face. “Open your mouth.”
If I refuse, will the bastard force me?
Not willing to take the chance, I do what he says.
“Suck it.” He places his finger on my tongue. “Get it wet.”
His voice is terrible. And damn it all, I am getting turned on.
Once his finger is wet, he pulls it out of my mouth and slides it into my damp slit.
“You like this.”
“No!” But my body betrays me.
He fingers me, circles my clit, makes me forget everything except the way I need him.
The spanking stops, and my surrender begins.
Silently begging for the orgasm that’s teasing me, I thrust back my pelvis.
In that instant, he stops and moves aside his hand.
“I think I’ve made my point.”
I’m throbbing, desperate for release.
He helps me to stand, and he tweaks one of my nipples. Then he turns from me. Because I’m trembling so badly, I sink onto the mattress.
He towers over me, smelling of determination and male prowess.
Instinctively I try to cover myself.
“You’ll find it’s in your best interest to please me, little rebel.”
Without giving me a chance to respond, he turns and crosses the room. When he reaches the door, he glances back at me. “And don’t you fucking dare touch yourself. I denied you on purpose. Your orgasms belong to me. They’re mine to give.” He pauses. “Or withhold. Understand?”