12. Matteo
Matteo
I was no better than a child, unable to sleep on Christmas Eve. But not because I was anxiously awaiting Santa’s arrival. No, my insomnia could be traced to the woman living under my roof, lured here under the guise of caring for my daughters.
Fuck, she drove me insane.
Ever since I first peeked in on her pleasuring herself, I’d become addicted to watching her come. She had no clue that when she turned out the lights each night, I was lurking nearby, stroking my cock as she starred in my new favorite show.
And every night, it became harder to resist the pull to join her, especially when it was my name that spilled from her lips when she reached the peak of ecstasy.
It was pure fucking torture holding back, knowing she wanted me just as much as I wanted her.
By the time I put the girls to bed and placed a mountain of wrapped gifts beneath the Christmas tree, I figured I’d already missed Summer’s sexy solo playtime.
Which was unfortunate, because after over a week of getting off while acting the voyeur, my cock had been trained to get hard at this time of night.
Since my preferred outlet for the lust coursing through my veins was off the table, I decided to burn it off in my home gym. Maybe if I pushed my body to the limit, I’d be able to coax it into falling asleep without the physical release it had grown accustomed to.
Ninety minutes later, I was drenched in sweat but no closer to cooling my heated blood.
It was borderline terrifying that Summer had me so twisted up that I literally couldn’t sleep unless I was afforded the chance to spy on her while masturbating.
The treadmill’s speed and incline were maxed out. If my body didn’t give out soon, I was pretty sure my heart might explode.
My pulse pounded in my ears like someone was beating a drum inside my brain. But it wasn’t enough to drown out the loud crash that sounded in the distance.
Hitting the emergency stop button, I was instantly on high alert.
Someone was in the house.
There were hidden safes in every room, and I rushed toward the one inside the gym. Disengaging the fingerprint lock, I pulled out a gun, checking to ensure it was loaded, before creeping into the hallway.
Letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, I strained my ears to determine the location of the intruder. Whoever thought it was a good idea to break into my home while my daughters and Summer were upstairs sleeping would learn a fatal lesson tonight.
I would grant no mercy. You didn’t fuck with my family.
Silently padding toward the main living room, where I could hear the shuffling movements of the dead man walking, I held my gun at the ready. This room didn’t have a door, so I paused outside the open threshold.
When I peered around the edge of the wall, my defenses lowered as confusion set in.
“What the hell?” The words were said at full volume, eliciting a feminine shriek from the person whose body was hidden behind the massive, decorated evergreen.
A few hours ago, there were two distinct piles of presents. Now, there was some kind of train constructed from boxes, and packages peeked out from the open tops.
“Matteo?” My head whipped around, startled by the fact that Summer never uttered my given name outside of those moments when rapture overtook her—moments that were never meant for me to witness.
“Uh . . .” I shook my head to clear it before gesturing toward the gift train. “What’s all this?”
Instead of answering my question, she asked one of her own. “Why do you have a gun?” Her eyes were locked on the weapon held in my right hand.
My gaze raked over her trembling form. Shallow breaths lifted her chest—she was in those goddamn silk pajamas again—and the pulse at the hollow of her throat fluttered wildly.
Her being scared was the least of my worries. She had no idea how close she’d come to getting shot. Sneaking around in the dark inside the home of a mafia don had almost gotten her killed.
My brain was still trying to decide whether I should apologize for scaring her or reprimand her for roaming the halls at night, when I realized her pupils were blown wide.
Summer wasn’t fucking afraid; she was turned on.
God help us both because, immediately, I knew this was it—the moment when I lost control.
Stalking closer, I held up the piece of gleaming metal. Voice dropping an octave, I said, “Because I’m a dangerous man, Summer.”
That vixen did the last thing I would have expected, letting out a loud snort before she slapped a palm over her mouth to cover her silent laughter.
My head cocked to the side. “This is funny to you?”
“Sorry.” Her hand fell away to reveal the tiniest hint of a smirk curved on those kissable lips before she schooled her features. “I’m very scared.”
I crowded her space until she was forced to step backward. Once her back hit the wall, I clicked my tongue. “Somehow, I don’t believe you.”
Her chest brushed mine with every inhale.
“Tell me the truth, Summer,” I commanded.
She held my stare. “It’s hard to believe that you’re this big, bad mafia man when all I’ve ever seen is the father who wears bubble beards and lets his daughter paint his nails.”
A dark chuckle fell past my lips. “Make no mistake, Summer. Outside of these walls, I’m ruthless. Heartless, even.” I paused before adding, “I’m a cold-blooded killer.”
When I dragged the tip of the barrel up the skin of her arm, her breathing hitched.
“This gun has taken lives,” I admitted. “And you’re still not scared?”
Summer’s throat worked on a thick swallow, but she shook her head. “No,” came her breathless reply.
I arched an eyebrow. “Are you willing to do what it takes to prove that?”
Her ragged breathing sounded harshly as it fanned my face. “H-how do I prove it?”
Oh, I was so glad she asked.
Moving the muzzle over her shoulder, I trailed it up her neck. Goosebumps rose in its wake as the path changed course, and I caressed the side of her jaw with the cold steel.
I tapped it against her lower lip. “Open.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, but Summer didn’t hesitate, dropping her jaw enough to permit the firearm entry.
Fuck, I was hard as a goddamn rock, jealous that a fucking handgun would know the pleasure of her hot little mouth before my cock.
Pushing the barrel inside, I groaned when her lips closed around it, and her cheeks hollowed out as she sucked.
“That’s it, dolcezza . Get it nice and wet for me.”
Eyes locked on mine, she bobbed down the length of the barrel, and I about damn near came in my pants at the sight. My girl was fucking fearless. And it gave me hope that she might be able to survive inside this dark world of mine.
Her hips shifted, seeking contact with mine. The mere brush of her belly against my raging erection had me right on the edge.
My lips dropped to the curve of her neck. “You’re fucking stunning, swallowing my gun.”
She moaned, her fingers tangling in the short strands of my hair when I sucked on a particularly sensitive spot.
When I gently eased the gun from her mouth, Summer let out the tiniest whine.
“Filthy girl,” I rasped. “You loved that, didn’t you?”
Tear tracks stained her pretty face. “Matteo. I need more.”
Hearing her say my name in that husky tone was enough to bring me to my knees.
My fingers circled her throat. “Beg for it.”
“Please.” The word came out on a broken sob.
I leaned in close enough that I could speak directly into her ear. “There’s nothing I would deny you, Summer. All you ever have to do is ask.”
She clawed at my shoulders. “You. I need you.”
“I’m right here, dolcezza .” Grinding my hard cock against her softness, I groaned. “Feel that? It’s all for you.”
Her whimper was music to my ears.
Trailing my gun between her breasts, I stopped at the waistband of her silk shorts. “Lose these.”
They hit the floor in a flash, and I nearly swallowed my tongue when I peeked down to find her bare and glistening. God, I wanted to bury my face between those creamy thighs more than I’d wanted anything in my entire life.
But this next part was crucial. It had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with trust. This would be the ultimate test as to whether she was willing to let me hold her life in my hands. Literally.
If she gave that level of trust freely, without reservations, it might erase the guilt I felt for dragging her into the danger that came with hitching her star to my wagon bound for hell.
I wedged a foot between Summer’s. “Spread ’em.”
She widened her stance, obeying eagerly in hopes of receiving the “more” I’d made her beg for. Even if she had no clue what that would entail.
Summer’s lashes fluttered shut when the muzzle teased over her mound, gliding effortlessly through the slickness of her slit.
A shudder ran down the length of her body. “Oh my God.”
Abandoning my hold on her throat, I roughly gripped her chin, and those baby blues sprang open.
“I am your god now,” I gritted out, a haze of lust clouding my vision.
Her plush pink lips parted in shock, but damn if her hips didn’t push forward, her pussy seeking out contact with my gun. And I began to believe that maybe, just maybe, she was brave enough to thrive as my fucking queen.
Ducking my head, I licked a path up her neck as I pushed the barrel between her open thighs, notching the tip at her entrance. “Is this what you want?”
Her swallow was audible. “Yes.”
I bit down on her earlobe. “So fucking perfect.”
That’s all I said before I pushed the weapon inside, relishing the sound of her gasp when her body yielded to accept the intrusion.
God, I could feel the heat radiating from her cunt against my hand, clutched around the grip, once the gun was fully seated inside her. My cock throbbed, begging me to end this game and claim her for myself.
My thumb shifted enough to toggle on the safety before I gave the first tentative thrust, fucking Summer with the loaded firearm.
Any minute, I expected her to come to her senses, to scream in horror when she realized what I was doing and run from this house as fast as she could. But to my surprise, that moment never came. Instead, her nails dug into my forearm, urging me to pick up the pace.
She was fucking perfect. And she was all mine.
“Say it,” I growled in her ear.
The force of my thrusts had her body thumping against the wall.
“Say my fucking name, or I’ll end this right now,” I threatened.
Her head fell back on a moan. Voice hoarse, she whispered, “Matteo.”
I rewarded her by twisting my wrist enough that the knuckle of my thumb grazed her clit, and she sucked in a sharp breath.
“Again,” I commanded.
“Matteo!” she cried as her body began to tremble.
She was right there, but I wanted her to remember who was in charge, so I slowed it down, dragging the metal barrel against her inner walls leisurely, like I had all the time in the world.
Her nails drew blood in her desperate attempt to make me move faster, the warmth of it trickling over the skin of my arm.
Who knew she’d be the first to leave claiming marks, but I fucking loved it.
So much so that I would be taking the time before bed to trace each crescent so that I could have them tattooed later as a permanent reminder of the night Summer first gave herself over to me.
I wanted to be assaulted by the memories every time I rolled up my sleeves.
A broken sob slipped past her lips. “Matteo, please. I-I need—”
Caressing her cheek, I murmured, “I know, dolcezza . And I’m going to give it to you.”
With her eyes pinched shut, a tiny crease formed between her brows. “When?”
I pressed my forehead against hers. “When I’ve gotten my fill of watching the most stunning creature I’ve ever laid eyes on being fucked by my gun.”
What I kept to myself was that I would never grow tired of the sight, so she might as well get comfortable because we were going to be here for a while.