9. Renata
Curious and also a little nervous,I push myself upright and turn around.
I suck in a breath. “Oh, Matteo. You bad boy, you.”
His cock is massive, and along the length are silver piercings. A Jacob’s Ladder.
“Oh, that is so pretty,” I say on a low groan.
“Pretty?” He scowls. “Not quite the adjective I was expecting.”
“Can I touch it?”
His cock twitches, and I smile. “Please?” I put a note of begging into my voice.
“Jesus Christ, Renata. Yes, you can touch it.”
I reach out and trace my finger down the long length of him. “I’ve never had sex with a man with piercings before,” I say. Then I realize that sounds like I’ve had sex with lots of men, and I haven’t.
“You know what they say. There’s a first time for everything.”
“What did Francesca think of this? I can’t imagine she liked it.”
He laughs. “I kind of had it done initially to fuck with her. And it was a dare.”
“A dare?”
“Yeah, between Clifford and me.”
I roll my eyes. “You seriously did this”—I wave my hands at the work of art he’s made of his dick.—“for a dare?”
“Yeah, but also because after he dared me, I read about it, and it apparently makes sex amazing for the female partner. I was seeing someone at the time. Behind Francesca’s back.” His cheeks color a bit, and I file that piece of information away because Matteo does have a conscience. Of sorts.
“Right.” I nod slowly.
“It isn’t how it sounds. We both were open about not loving one another. The woman I was seeing liked the idea of the ladder, so I did it.”
“And did she like the results?” I hate that he was seeing someone else, but I swallow that jealousy down because this is just a game.
“She did.”
“But you won’t let me experience it?”
“All in good time.”
I run my fingers over him again, and he shivers. His skin is golden, and his eyes are dark. He’s so beautiful. I think I’d find Matteo hot even when we’re old and gray.
A bead of pre-cum forms at his head, and I dip my finger into it and then take the fingertip to my mouth and slowly, and deliberately, suck the pre-cum off.
Matteo growls. He actually growls like a damn wolf and grabs my hair as he pushes me against the vanity and kisses me as if he’s dying, and I’m his salvation.
I give him the same passion in return. My breasts rub against his chest, and my pussy rubs against his thigh. I press against him knowing that if I move just a little, angle myself just so…
Then an idea hits me. I lift up onto the vanity, taking care not to bang my head on the shelves above me. The green tendrils of a plant trail over one shoulder and breast, tickling my nipple.
Matteo watches me, his eyes hooded as I part my legs, and then with two fingers I spread my lips, showing him everything. I’m wet and pink when I look down, and he swallows hard.
“Please. Just for a moment,” I beg.
He comes nearer and shakes his head, but his cock finds its way to my pussy as if it’s a heat-seeking missile with the coordinates locked and loaded.
I take hold of him and rub his head over my clit, down to my wet and ready entrance, then back to my clit. I continue doing this, and soon I’m on the edge of an orgasm from this alone. So is he, if the amount of pre-cum he’s pumping out is anything to go by.
“Just for a minute,” I whisper as I push him into me.
“Fuck, Renata,” he groans as his thick tip stretches me deliciously.
I moan and could cry, he feels that good. A strange thought hits me. Maybe the universe always meant for it to be this way between us. Perhaps our split and years in the wilderness were fated somehow. It certainly gave us both time to gain experience and to grow into ourselves.
I don’t believe things would have been this good, this intense back when we were just teens. We were too young and na?ve.
He pushes in a bit further and then pulls out almost all the way. He thrusts inside me, and I feel the first piercing and cry out.
“Oh, God. Matteo.”
“Feels good?”
“Yes. Yes. Don’t stop, please; just a little more.”
“You need a bit more of my cock, baby?”
“Yes, I need it, Matteo.”
“I’ll give it to you … if you beg.”
His voice has taken a hard turn, and I realize this is him gaining control and the upper hand. Terrifyingly, I don’t care. I’m too far gone to be able to stop this now, and the fact that he’s acting as if he could stop easily should give me pause. Instead, I do as he says. I beg.
“Please, Matteo. Fuck me. Please give me your cock.”
“Where?”
“In my pussy. Fuck me. Shove it in me, and make me scream.”
And he does.
He grabs my legs, holds them wide, and pulls me forward on the ledge as he shoves into me with a grunt.
I cry out at the pleasure and twinge of pain as he pushes all those piercings into me.
“Like this?” he demands.
“Yes, please. Like that.”
He circles his hips and holy hell. Those piercings do things to me. They massage me with each thrust and make this an entirely different experience.
He sets a punishing pace. His wraps around my throat, his thumb brushing over my jaw, as he stares in my eyes. I can”t take the intensity, and I break the eye contact first; I”m a coward when it comes right down to it.
His mouth claims mine again in a heated kiss that matches what our bodies are doing. He fucks me hard and fast, but then he slams in deep to the hilt and rests against me. He grinds against me, and holy hell those piercings really do their work now. This is a completely mind-blowing experience.
I can”t hold out much longer, and when he reaches between us and presses his thumb against my clit, rubbing expertly, I explode.
Detonating around him, I turn my mouth away to suck in much needed air as I cry out my release. He swears, and his hips stutter as he finds his own moment of heaven.
I realize that we”re both panting and sweating. I taste blood, and I lick my lip and am shocked to find that he bit me. He”s still inside me, and as I raise my eyes to look at him, it”s all too raw, and I feel vulnerable now that the aftershocks are fading and cold reality rushes in.
He looks away from me as he slides out of me, and I get the feeling that he”s closing off. But then he stands back between my legs and wraps his arms around me as he tips my chin up and kisses me much more softly this time.
“You should charge for that service.” I laugh. I try to make light of the mind-blowing, knee-shaking orgasm he”s just given me.
“Thank the piercer, not me.”
“Oh, if I ever meet him, I will.” I climb down from the vanity on shaking legs and gather my clothes around me.
“There”s no rush,” he says. “We could always grab a shower or a bath and then take this into the bedroom.”
I glance down and see that he”s already half-hard for round two. This is where my moment comes. My second little power play. I kiss him sweetly on the mouth.
“I can”t, I”m afraid. I have things to do. But thank you for an amazingly mind-blowing time. We definitely will have to do this again.”
“You have things to do at almost midnight on Friday?” He scowls at me. His expression screams that he doesn’t believe a word of what I’m saying.
“Yes, I do actually. I”m running a small business. My family doesn”t know much about it, and I’ve been keeping it on the downlow for now.” This isn’t entirely a lie. I have a lucrative little online store where I sell unusual jewelry sourced from around the world. I only buy from female producers, and I pay them more than their fair share, unlike many chain stores. I don’t talk about it to many people, though, and I don’t have to do Friday night Zoom calls, but Matteo doesn’t have to know that. “I have to do a lot of work with people in America, so this is a peak busy time for me.”
“It”s evening time in America by now surely?”
“West Coast,” I say breezily. I pull my jeans up, panties already on. I hunt around underneath the vanity for my bra. I clasp it in place and shake my hair out and then run my finger around my lips, trying to clear up my smudged lipstick.
“I”ll grab a cab,” I say. “I don”t expect you to run me home.”
“Of course I”m fucking taking you home,” he practically snarls.
“Well, thank you, but I don”t expect it. I take cabs all the time. It is perfectly safe.”
“One,” he says as he holds up one finger. “It is not perfectly safe. “Two.” His second finger pops up. “Letting you do the cab ride of shame is not on the cards.” His third finger joins the other two. “Three, I get the feeling you”re running away, so I”m going to make sure I get to spend more time with you.”
“I”m not running away,” I tell him. I realize that I need to dial this cut and run act down a bit, or he might simply get bored and think I”m playing games. Worst case scenario, he might think I”m going to do something like I did when we were teenagers and bail on him in the worst way. By screwing his best friend. I smile at him and infuse it with as much warmth as I can. “I really do have some work this evening, and I”m also up early tomorrow for a horrendous hardcore session with my personal trainer.” That part is completely true. “It”s easier for me to go home tonight, and I don”t want to leave it too late, or I won’t get the work done.”
His face softens, and he sighs as he dresses in the clothes he was wearing before we got all animalistic with each other. “I”m still running you home,” he says.
It isn’t an offer—it”s a command. A part of me likes that. The way he takes control is hot as hell in this instance, but other times it drives me crazy. I”m a control freak, so we are likely to clash somewhat on this. Yet, deep down despite my control freak tendencies, part of me wants someone to take that away from me. The trouble is I”ve never found anyone strong enough. I”m not sure if Matteo is because I’m not sure any man is. But he”s a very strong contender and the only man I’ve met who seems to be capable of standing up to me in that calm way he has.
Once we”re both dressed, we exit the bathroom and I”m suddenly self-conscious as he leads me down the stairs. We exit the door, and he beeps the lock on the car and ushers me inside, door held open. Once we”re seated, he places a call and instructs someone to bring a car and follow us. A few minutes later, two men jog out of the house and climb in to one of the ever-present SUVs, following us as we peel out of the driveway.
He’s silent for the first five minutes or so of the journey, until I turn to look at him. “Don”t you want to talk?” I keep the annoyance out of my tone. “Seeing as you forced yourself on me for another thirty minutes or so.” I nudge his leg to show that I”m partially joking.
“Do you want to do this again? Tonight, I mean. Would you like a repeat?”
The bluntness of his question surprises me. I stare out of the window for long beats and then face him. “Yes, I would like that very much, Matteo.” There are no lies detected and no games within that statement. It”s the truth. I would very much like to do this again with him, and lying about that is pointless.
“I”ll pick you up on Sunday then; three in the afternoon okay with you?”
“I can”t do Sunday. I have a family dinner.”
“Tell them you”re busy,” he demands.
“You could always come with me,” I say with a soft laugh.
“Jesus Christ, can you imagine the expression on your father”s face if I strolled into the house?”
“To be honest, if they thought you were going to marry me and make an honest woman of me, he”d probably just thank you.” It”s a joke, but he doesn’t respond.
Way to go Renata, you emotionally stunted fool.Dear God. Who mentions marriage on a first date? Even in a joking context, it”s a stupid thing to do.
“Do you want to get married again?” he finally asks.
I thought he’d make a joke or ignore my remark altogether. This a serious question, though, asked in a serious tone.
“I”m not sure to be honest.” For a moment, I let the mask slip, and I stop playing the games because it”s too exhausting. I used to be close to this man. I used to have feelings for him. And these days I”m not close to anybody. Except for Jilly and Carol. “My marriage was a disaster, so I”m not sure I”m cut out for it.”
“I think you are,” he says. “You just need the right man.”
“And is that man you?” Once more I keep my tone light, but the air in the car has grown heavy with the weight of something I don”t quite understand.
“I”m not sure that it would be me, Renata.” My heart sinks, but he continues. “You and I, we aren’t oil and water; we are oil and oil with a match thrown on top.”
I laugh at that because it’s true.
“So maybe it’s not me. Or maybe it is because I sure as shit wouldn”t let you run around without a security detail. I also would never let you be in the business, and from what you”ve said before that”s something of a deal breaker for you.”
I”m about to give him hell for his old-fashioned ideas when he continues speaking.
“What I would do for you, Renata, is give you something that I think you need.”
“Oh, and what exactly do you think that I need?”
“Grounding,” he says. “You need grounding, Renata.”
“You”d like to clip my wings, would you?” I let the annoyance I”m feeling inside bleed out in my tone. Why do all the men in my life from Babbo to Nico, to this man, want to keep me caged?
“That isn’t what I said. I didn”t say I wanted to tether you, or trap you in some sort of cage, did I now? What I stated was that you need grounding. Before someone can truly spread their wings, they need to feel safe. They need to feel secure. I don”t think you”ve ever had that in your life.”
Tears prick my eyes, and I”m so grateful for the dark around us. How can he know this about me? He knows nothing about me these days. For all Mateo understands about my life, I could be the most grounded and happy person on this entire planet.
I”m about to come back with some witty one-liner that I hope will annoy him, when he renders me speechless.
“And I’d also give you so many orgasms, that you wouldn’t have the energy to worry about being on the fucking board. If you annoyed me about it, I’d spank it out of you, then fuck it out of you, and then I’d give you enough fucking money to build any legitimate business empire you wanted. I wouldn’t care if you became a gazillionare; my male ego doesn’t need to be the richest or most successful in my relationships. What I do need, though, is for my wife to be safe, and if she insists on being in this cursed life, then she never will be.”
I can’t say anything because my mind is still stuck on being spanked and fucked out of my need to be on the board.
His phone rings, jolting me out of my meditation on his words. A number flashes on the car screen. He clicks a button on the steering wheel and connects to his phone. A woman”s voice rings out in the car.
“Hey, handsome, how are you?”
“I”m good, thanks.” His tone is clipped and businesslike. “Are you okay?”
She laughs softly and then says, “I would be better if you were here. My place is feeling rather empty tonight.”
Holy fuck. I can”t believe this douche. He just took a booty call on speakerphone when he”s driving me home.
“I”m out, and tonight is not good for me.” His tone has turned positively annoyed.
“It”s never a good time for you these days, Matteo,” the woman whines.
“You know what?” He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “I do believe that you”re correct. So why don”t we call off this charade right now. I won”t take any of your calls. I won”t be texting you. Don”t call or text me. Have a nice life.”
“Wait, what?” She practically screeches down the phone, and the sound is jarring.
“You heard me.”
“Screw you, Matteo.” Her yell makes my ears hurt.
“Not anymore you won”t be.” His tone is still calm but utterly final.
I stare at his profile, trying to figure him out. That was cold and harsh, and worse, he did it in front of me.
“Nice,” I say softly. “Is that how you end all your relationships?”
He laughs. “It wasn’t a relationship. It was a friends-with-benefits arrangement. No, scratch that, we weren’t friends. She was married. It’s ended.”
“Very much so, and decisively by you.”
He shrugs. “I haven’t seen her for months.”
Oh, okay. “Yet, you took her call with me in the car.”
I can”t keep the annoyance out of my tone.
“I didn”t know it was her,” he says. He points at the screen. “A number came up, and normally it”s people”s names. I can only imagine she must have changed her phone. I had already answered before she spoke, and when I realized who it was, I tried to keep it short. I should have ended it months ago, but I haven”t heard from her and just figured that she”d come to the same conclusion.”
This puts things in a slightly different light. I don”t say anything more and consider things for a while. So he was seeing someone, but he hasn”t for months. And now he’s ended it. Is that because of me and our one date? I don”t even dare to presume that could be the case. I”m still considering things when he pulls up outside my apartment building.
“Here you go,” he says.
“Thanks for the ride,” I reply.
That twitch of his lips tells me he”s taken that entirely the wrong way. I roll my eyes but can”t help my smile. “I”ll pick you up on Sunday,” he says.
So it looks like I am cancelling my family dinner, bossy bastard.
He watches as I head into the building, and he”s still watching as the elevator doors close on me.
I fall back against the walls with a sigh the moment I have privacy.
This is not going the way I had planned. If I thought I could do this and keep my feelings out of things, then I was mistaken.
This is going to be much harder than I realized.