Twenty-nine #2
She lies back on the bed, watching me with a gleam in her eye as I rip at my clothes. My shirt snags—I forgot to unbutton the cuffs—and I wrestle with the sleeves like a rookie.
Ellory props herself on her elbows, smirking.
Then she spreads her legs and lazily circles her clit through the lace, teasing herself while I’m stuck like an idiot in my shirt.
Her breathing quickens, eyes locked on mine.
“Don’t you dare come,” I growl, finally freeing myself and tossing the shirt across the room.
I strip off my briefs and stalk toward her.
Dropping to my knees, I take her hand and lick her fingers clean. She tastes like honey and heat.
“You ready?” I murmur against her thigh.
She nods, breathless. “Please, Matteo…I need you.”
Hooking her legs over my shoulders, I press my tongue flat and drag it from the bottom of her core to the top, circling her clit with slow, deliberate strokes.
She moans and fists tangled in my hair, rocking her hips into my mouth.
I slide two fingers deep inside her, sucking hard on her clit until she arches off the bed.
A cry tears from her throat as her orgasm hits, her body shaking around me.
But I don’t stop.
I want to wring every drop of pleasure from her.
When she’s trembling and boneless, I crawl up beside her and tug her on top of me.
She straddles my lap, still quivering, and slowly sinks down onto my cock.
She’s tight, wet, and perfect. I grit my teeth, already on the edge.
Her hands slide over my chest. “I’m going to embarrass myself,” I warn, voice ragged.
“Let go for me. I want to feel all of you.”
Her words hit like a match to dry tinder.
I grip her hips and thrust up into her—hard, deep.
She cries out, clenching around me as I tweak her nipple and she tips into another climax.
I keep going, thumbing her clit in tight, rhythmic circles. Her third orgasm rips through her like a shockwave.
And I lose it.
With a guttural groan, I come hard, buried deep inside her.
For a few heartbeats, everything fades except the feel of her body against mine.
Breathless. Spent. Mine.
I’ve never made a woman come three times in one go.
I feel like a goddamn king.
Ellory collapses beside me, skin flushed and glistening, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
“That was incredible,” she whispers. “Better than my lunch meeting.”
I laugh. “I’d hope no one stripped you naked and made you come three times over lunch.”
“Considering my lunch was with my father and his girlfriend? Definitely not.”
We roll onto our sides, facing each other.
“Tell me everything.”
She does. And I listen, even as my jaw clenches and a slow burn of anger rises in my chest. Her father let his girlfriend bulldoze her—again. And for what? Ego?
But then she tells me how she handled it. Calm. Composed. Strategic.
“You’re fucking brilliant,” I say, awed. “You didn’t even raise your voice. You let the truth speak for itself.”
“I kept waiting for him to say something. To stop her. But he just…froze. And then she went full villain, said he was naming her CEO and firing me on the spot.”
“Jesus.”
“He looked genuinely shocked. Like he hadn’t even considered it.”
“Thank God that’s not happening. And not just because we’re selling you a lot of diamonds.”
She laughs, and the sound sends another jolt of heat through me. I reach over, undo her bra with one hand, and run my thumb across her nipple. She shivers and leans in.
Her voice softens. “Tell me about the social worker.”
God, I love that she wants to know. That she cares.
“She showed up unannounced, but the judge told me to expect it. It actually went well. Amelia lit up around her. I found out she has a favorite book depending on who’s reading.”
Ellory melts. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. What’s next?”
“She’s talking to everyone on the list—my brothers, my sister, my aunt and uncle, and you. She’s meeting with Willow tomorrow. Trixie made this amazing scrapbook, and the social worker took it. There’s a photo of Willow at the party. You can see her struggling to hold Amelia.”
Ellory frowns. “If the judge ruled that Willow has to get a job and her own place, do you think she’ll actually do it?”
I exhale. “Maybe. But either way, I’m locking down Amelia’s trust. She won’t have access to it until she’s thirty-five. Earlier than that, only with my approval and for education and living only.”
Ellory arches a brow. “Isn’t that a little…extreme?”
“She’s also not allowed to date until thirty-five,” I deadpan. “That’s the rule. I made it up just now.”
Ellory bursts out laughing. “You’re going to have to teach her every trick men use to get in her panties.”
“Might have to co-author a curriculum.”
She sighs, sits up, and starts collecting her clothes. “I should go.”
“What? No. Amelia will be up soon, and Jessica made dinner. Trixie’s out for the night. Stay. She loves you. I want you here for that.”
Ellory smirks. “Are you actually begging me to stay? I should record this.”
I roll on top of her, pinning her wrists above her head. “I could make you beg. Again.”
Before she can answer, the baby monitor crackles to life.
“There she is.” I grin. “She’ll be crushed if you don’t stay.”
Ellory smiles. “Since you asked nicely—and treated me very well—I’ll stay.”
Being with me isn’t easy. I come with a daughter, a complicated life, and enough baggage to fill a private jet.
I don’t even know if Ellory wants kids. Or if she wants me long-term. We’ve never talked about a future, not really. And I’ve been too scared to ask.
She adores Amelia, but that doesn’t mean she wants to be her mother.
I sigh and head to Amelia’s room, pushing the questions down.
Not tonight.