Chapter 27
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
WREN
I fucked him.
I can’t believe I just fucked him.
And I liked it.
That was the hottest sex I’ve ever had.
I’m pissed at myself for giving in so easily, but damnit, it’s hard not to. It’s like as soon as I get a whiff of his scent and hear his deep voice, I can only think with my vagina. Not that she’s complaining. She’s definitely satisfied after that.
I was too scared to face him when he came back out of the bathroom. I think I was afraid he was going to regret it or realize the chase wasn’t worth it. I couldn’t bear to see the look of pity on his face as he let me down.
It isn’t until I’m changing into an oversized tee I brought for sleeping that I notice the wetness dripping between my legs. Too much wetness.
My head shoots up, eyes wide as I freeze .
Oh my fucking god.
We didn’t use a condom.
I can’t believe I was so fucking stupid.
My eyes shoot to the bedroom door as I hear heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Still not ready to face him yet, I dash into the bathroom and shut and lock the door.
“You need to wake the fuck up,” I tell myself to the mirror as I rip off some toilet paper and start wadding it up to clean myself with.
Just as I’m about to wipe, the bathroom door bangs open.
“What are you doing?” Matteo asks, tone dead.
“Um, excuse me. Can you knock?” I snap, forgetting about the mess we made between my legs for a second.
“What are you doing?” Matteo repeats.
“It’s none of your fucking business, but I’m using the bathroom. Now, if you could just get out.” I wave my hand toward the door.
“Are you wiping me away?” Matteo asks, not moving from the doorway.
My mouth opens and closes as I stare at his blank face. “Am I what?”
“Are. You. Wiping. Me. Away.” Matteo stalks toward me and grabs the wad of toilet paper out of my hand.
“N-no,” I stutter. “We didn’t use a condom!”
“I know we didn’t, tesoro ,” Matteo says, a look I can’t quite place crossing his face. “Don’t make me ask again.” His face is inches from mine as his hand that took the wad of toilet paper lowers until it’s just above the area that still aches for him. “The only person that cleans you up is me, understand?”
My chest is rising and falling rapidly as I feel his breath graze my neck.
“For the first time, I marked what’s mine tonight. Don’t take this need away from me, baby. I need to clean myself off of you. The only other option you have is shoving me back in so I can do it later. Do you understand?” My breathing is coming in short pants now as I try to calm down. I’m failing miserably. All I can smell is this man, and it’s intoxicating. It turns my brain into mush. “Answer me,” he demands. He’s looking at me like I’m his prey. Like he’s just waiting for me to run so he can give chase.
“Yes, I understand.” I finally get out just as two fingers circle my tender entrance. I gasp at the unexpected contact. The hunger in Matteo’s eyes grows as he withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking off the combination of him and me.
“Mmm. You know what that tastes like?” Matteo groans as my breath gets caught in my throat. “It tastes like mine.” He steps away and throws a T-shirt on the counter next to me that I didn’t see him bring in. “I thought I told you that you only sleep in my shirts.” He doesn’t wait for a response as he leaves the bathroom without a backward glance.
“Holy fuck,” I rush out as I bend over slightly, resting both of my palms on the bathroom counter, trying to collect myself. “What just happened?”
Looking up into the mirror, I study myself once again. And once again, I barely recognize the person staring back at me. Only this time, it’s for a different reason. My cheeks are flushed, and my hair looks freshly tousled. And for once, my eyes look alive—like they have life even though I feel like I want to run away and never come back.
But I look good, aside from the makeup-covered bruises.
I look happy.
My eyes travel to the shirt that Matteo tossed before I slide the one I have on up and over my head, replacing it with the smooth cotton shirt that smells like him. I inhale deeply, hating that his scent is starting to be the only thing that centers me. I don’t want him to have that type of control over me. At least not yet.
Picking up my discarded shirt, I hit the light switch on my way out of the bathroom.
Matteo is already in bed, but I know he isn’t sleeping. I think this is a test. A test to see if I’ll climb into bed with him or bolt. Bolting would be the easier choice. I know he only sleeps in boxers, and I highly doubt a man of his status would run after me with his dick swinging.
But maybe.
He does seem a little… unstable. That would be a sight to see.
I just don’t have the energy for another confrontation with him tonight.
The only light source is coming from the small lamp on the nightstand on my side of the bed. I turn the lamp off as I climb in, ignoring the twinge of happiness I feel in the pit of my stomach as the soft sheets graze my skin.
I decide it’s the safest to settle in on my side, facing away from Matteo. I don’t need the temptation to want to touch his smooth, olive skin. In a perfect world, I would touch every inch of him all day long. But we aren’t in a perfect world. We’re in Ravenna Heights, and the reality is that we come from very different sides of the city. We’re night and day. It would never work.
Letting out a long sigh, I tuck one arm under my pillow and one hand under my cheek. Just as sleep starts to consume me, Matteo’s arm wraps around me and pulls me toward him until my back is flush up against his chest.
“You sleep next to me,” Matteo mumbles when he feels me stiffen against him.
“I was already next to you.” That’s kind of the point of sleeping in the same bed .
“Not close enough,” he says softly, his voice drifting off. I can’t help but melt. And that’s how I went to sleep with a faint smile on my face, wrapped up in the arms of a man that I know has killed many people but would never lay a finger on me. He would kill anyone that dared to touch me.