Chapter 43
MATTEO
We’re riding back to the mansion and Goldie’s cheeks are still flushed from the fight she put up when I told her we’re leaving.
But we both need showers and a change of clothes, and Chiara needs rest. She understood all that.
But I still had to practically carry her from the hospital to get her in the car and she’s still not over that.
Meanwhile, my cock’s been rock hard since I held her writhing body in my arms and it’s not going down. No matter how hard she’s ignoring me or how fast I’m driving. I’m going so fast that the world outside the windows is just a blur—grey, blue, and finally green as we near Ferro’s mansion.
“I don’t want to be locked up anymore,” she says as I park in front of the house. Twilight is beginning to fall, but there are still some gold specks in the foliage and grass cast by the dying sun.
“I don’t want you to be locked up anymore either,” I say and get out of the car to open the door for her.
A little chivalry goes a long way, my grandmother used to tell me.
I thought she was just old-fashioned, and the advice was useless, but Goldie takes my hand and lets me help her out of the car, so maybe Nonna knew what she was talking about after all.
“So just let me go,” Goldie whispers as I led her to the house, still holding her hand.
“Yeah, no, I can’t do that.”
She pierces me with her eyes, soft yet hard somehow, the color of chocolate and melted gold. I think she knows I mean that I, personally, can’t do it and not that it has anything to do with Ferro and my other plans.
Other plans?
I can’t even pinpoint the exact time the revenge plans that had kept me alive for the past ten years and were all I lived for, took the back seat in my mind, but that’s definitely where they are as I escort her up the stairs.
Ferro pokes his head out of his study, looking at us questioningly through the wooden railings of the stairs.
“The doctor says she’s getting better by the hour,” I tell him. “I’ll give you a full update as soon as I’m showered and changed.”
“By all means, take your time,” Ferro says, and I can’t tell if that’s sarcasm or him being genuine.
“Look at him trying to pretend he cares,” Gianna whispers to me as we resume our walk to the third floor. “Acting like he’s not the one who shot her.”
“He did take her to the hospital though,” I say. “Risked a lot doing it.”
She scoffs. “You all think you’re good guys, don’t you? What a bunch of delusional psychos.”
We’ve reached our bedroom on the third floor, and I lead her inside and slam the door behind us. “You know, I liked you a lot better when you were the sweet little princess trying to be my friend.”
She shoots me a look that cuts like the sweet edge of a whip and I wonder if what I just said is actually true.
“Yeah, well, I liked you a lot better before you kidnapped me.”
She tries to release my hand, but I grab her tighter, pull her to me and pin her against the door.
I can feel how hard her heart’s beating via the veins in her wrists—tiny pricks like little jolts of electricity against my rough palms. I didn’t know my cock could get any harder for her, but clearly it can.
Her lips are slightly parted, her cheeks flushed in that delicious rose gold color and there’s no fear in her eyes. Just an invitation along the lines of, “I dare you to kiss me.”
I don’t need any more invitation than that. And the pinpricks of electricity on my palms have nothing on the jolts of power that are released as our lips meet.
I swear I can hear the electricity humming as I deepen the kiss. She tries to pull away, but not very hard. And before I know it, our tongues are entwined and she’s moaning, sighing, the rigidness gone from her muscles.
As always happens, the first inkling of her surrender to me sends my need for her into overdrive.
I kiss her harder still, releasing her hands so I can rip the stupid black shirt she’s wearing off her.
Her pants go next, the button flying sideways across the room.
She’s not fighting me, she’s staying with the kiss, deepening it on her own, her moans and sighs growing louder, more urgent.
My jacket comes off next, then my shirt, buttons again flying because they’re not important.
What’s important is to feel her warm, naked skin against my own.
What’s important is to show her I meant every single word I said to her yesterday and today.
Show her I can’t and won’t ever let her go, no matter how much she fights me. No matter how much she hates me.
She’s not fighting me now, doesn’t seem to hate me at all, as I rip off her bra and cup her soft breasts that are just the perfect size for my hands.
She melts into me as she moans. And it’s all I can do not to turn her around, rip off her panties and fuck her right here, against the door, have her screaming my name for the whole house to hear as I fill her with my come.
But a little chivalry goes a long way…
So, I lift her up instead, enjoying the way her legs wrap around my hips, and carry her to bed. But that’s where the chivalry ends.
Her soft, willing body spread across the crumpled and rumpled white sheets is an aphrodisiac like none other.
I rip off her panties, take off the rest of my clothes, don’t even know I’m doing it.
Don’t know anything, until I finally ram my cock into her wet, velvet soft pussy and she screams. Not my name.
Just an animal roar of pleasure, maybe some pain, definitely wild and raw.
I can’t stop, can’t slow down, need to get deeper inside her, need every tiny sensation her pussy has to offer.
I start thrusting wildly, enjoying that whip-sharp look in her eyes as she stares at me, even as her eyes grow softer and softer and her moans get deeper and louder.
She’s not running from my thrusts, she’s meeting them, the anger in her eyes warring with the pleasure, her nails digging into my arms. One day the pleasure will win that war. It will.
But I will always need that wild fight in her too. That refusal to surrender even as she does, even as she gives all of her to me and my thrusting cock, opens for me like we’re made for each other. Which we are. No matter how much she tries to deny it.
I last longer than I thought I would between her tightness and the sweet challenge in her eyes. Last until she screams again, her whole body shaking as she comes hard, harder probably for trying to fight it, her pussy clenching my cock like she’ll never let it go,
She doesn’t have to. It’s hers. I’m all hers. All she has to do is accept me. Or not. Either way works. She’s mine forever.
And that’s the last coherent thought I have before I come too, harder than ever, carried on the river of her pleasure, the challenge in her angry, soft eyes, the sight of her golden skin and the wild electricity only the two of us can create.