32. Siena
Siena
M atti unshackles my feet first, his movements brisk but deliberate. My legs are shaking, but I manage a few shaky steps forward and lean against the wall as he releases my wrists from the cuffs. My body feels heavy and disoriented, as if I might collapse at any moment.
Before I can worry about moving or trying to have a complete thought, Matti scoops me up effortlessly.
His chest is warm and solid as he carries me to the bed, laying me down gently.
He pulls the sheet up over me and leaves the room, his cock back in his underwear, his pants still undone, the whole front of them wet from fucking me.
The sound of running water comes from the bathroom. I close my eyes, trying to make sense of everything, but he returns before I can sort through my spinning thoughts.
He rolls me onto my stomach, the damp cloth in his hand warm and soothing as he carefully wipes me down. Each stroke of the cloth is slow, almost reverent, easing the soreness as he takes care of me.
“That feels really nice,” I murmur into the pillow, my voice heavy with exhaustion and contentment. “You are a constant surprise to me, Matti. I never imagined you like this.”
His hands pause for the briefest moment.
“Like what?” he asks, his voice gruff and guarded. There’s a sharpness in his tone, though his touch remains gentle.
“Like this,” I reply, gesturing vaguely, the movement sluggish and clumsy since my limbs are still numb and I’m wiped out. I’ve never come so hard in my life. “Like being sweet.”
He grunts in disapproval. “Sweet? I don’t think that’s an accurate depiction of what just happened.”
“Well,” I say with a faint smile, “sweet is better than ‘fuckboy.’”
The instant the word leaves my mouth, I regret it. His hand stills, and I swear the room turns colder. My breath catches as I sense the shift in his energy. He drops the cloth off the side of the bed, and it lands on the cement floor with a muted wet thud.
He grasps my chin, tilting my face toward him. His gaze is sharp, unyielding, and his voice is a low growl. “The fuck did you just say?”
“I—” My throat tightens as I scramble for an explanation. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“Say more,” he demands.
I pinch my lips together, trying not to smile. Not that this is funny, but I feel like I’m high after what he just did to me. “Olivia said it,” I admit, the words tumbling out before I can reconsider.
Thinking of Olivia, the urge to smile disappears. He said they weren’t together, but was he just saying that because he wanted to fuck me?
“Don’t do that. ”
He climbs in bed next to me, on top of the sheets, rolling me on my side so that we’re facing each other.
“Do what.” I know what, and I hate that he can read me so well.
“I told you I am not now and have never been with Olivia.” Matti narrows his eyes at me. “Now tell me what she said.”
I shift under his intense gaze, pulling the sheet up around me. “I don’t remember exactly. She said she didn’t know where you were when I asked her, and then she called you a fuckboy.”
He frowns. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“It means…” I hesitate, looking away and choosing my words carefully. “That you’re not into relationships, but you don’t mind fucking when the opportunity presents itself.”
He lets out a sharp exhale, his grip on my chin firm but not painful.
“I like fucking you , Siena. And I’m no boy.
As for Olivia—” He releases me, tugging the sheet down playfully so that my tits are exposed.
“I am not and never have been anything remotely resembling a fuckboy to her. She’s not my type, in case you hadn’t noticed. ”
Olivia could be a model, tall and slim but curvy in the right places. A classic and classy look with white blonde hair cut into an A-line bob below her shoulders and gray eyes. That’s not his type?
But me—dark hair, short, thick thighs, tits too big for my frame, and boring brown eyes—that’s more his speed? I suppress a smile even though I’m not sure I believe it, but jump when he clears his throat, bringing me back to the conversation.
“She didn’t try to tell you that I fucked her, did she?” His tone is casual, but his eyes are sharp, scrutinizing my reaction .
“Not exactly,” I admit. “But she called you a fuckboy like she had firsthand knowledge. And I overheard her telling Franco you two were together.”
Matti raises an eyebrow. “Let me guess: Franco had just hit on her?”
“Yeah,” I say, shuddering at the memory. “He’s a sleazy prick. Of course, he shot his shot, despite being beaten down, locked up, and way out of his league.”
Matti’s expression shifts, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “I saw what you did to Franco, kitten. Are you okay?”
A lump forms in my throat. “I’m fine,” I reply quickly, though my voice wavers.
His face darkens. “Did he touch you? Hurt you?”
“No.” My voice is barely above a whisper. I shake my head. What the fuck is wrong with me? I feel like I’m about to cry and I never cry. “Not then. I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about it.”
He brushes a finger along my cheek. His touch grounds me, but his tone is hard when he speaks. “Whenever Olivia wants to get rid of a guy, she tells him that me, Tommy, or Vin is her boyfriend. She thinks it’ll scare them off. We hate it. We’ve all told her not to do it. Too much drama.”
“I can see why she’d pick you,” I say lightly. “You’re pretty intimidating.”
His lips curve into a wicked smirk. “You think I’m scary, kitten?”
Before I can respond, he yanks the sheet away, leaving me fully exposed.
I flush pink as his gaze rakes over my body.
He unzips his pants, lowering them enough to release his hard cock, then climbs over me, bracketing my head with his forearms and using his knees to make me spread my legs wide enough to make room for him.
“You don’t seem scared now,” he growls, the heat in his gaze making my pulse race.
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “I think… scary is accurate,” I manage to say, my voice breathless. “I mean, you did just choke me a few minutes ago and then hit me with a belt. But scary isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
“I didn’t choke you,” he frowns.
I blush hard and hate myself for it. “Well, I couldn’t breathe,” I whisper shyly, remembering his cock deep in my throat.
Jesus Christ, I’m not the blushing type either. What the hell is this man doing to me?
I turn away from him slightly, embarrassed, trying to avoid his gaze, and he dips his face down and drops little kisses on the side of my neck.
Softly, in my ear, he growls, “Were you scared, kitten?”
Heat washes over my body, and I can barely breathe. I shake my head ‘no,’ and he forces me to meet his gaze. The intensity of his dark blue eyes, his warm breath on my skin together with his low, sexy voice triggers a rush of wetness to pool between my thighs.
He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head at me.
Oh, right. Use words.
“I was a little scared…” I say honestly. I don’t know where it comes from, but I hear myself add on, “…sir.”
His cock hardens against me, and he presses into me, his chest vibrating against mine with a low growl. Shifting his hips slightly back and forth, he slides himself slowly up and down my wet slit. “Doesn’t feel like you’re scared now, kitten.”
“I just meant… some people… I mean, I was… scared is…” I say, trying hard to form a complete sentence .
Jesus, I’m a mess. I realize I’m gripping him with my inner thighs, and I purposely relax, opening up to him.
“Well, some people should be scared. Very scared,” he growls, sliding his cock inside my wet opening, pushing all the way in with one stroke.
I gasp, and he pauses, deep inside me, pressing against that spot he finds so easily.
“But I will never hurt you, Siena. And I’ll fucking kill anyone who lays a hand on you. Or a tongue.”
I blink at that last comment. Wait, what? Is he talking about that guy from the law office? Did he kill—
“Your pussy is squeezing my cock, Siena. Did that turn you on, kitten?”
“Did what? I don’t know what…” My lie melts into a moan as his eyes darken and he drags his teeth along my jaw and down my neck, digging in to mark me.
I want to process what is happening, to pull back and recalibrate my brain so I’m thinking clearly and not driven by hormones. But his thick hard dick is stretching me to my limit, gently working in and out of my sore pussy, and I can’t help myself.
I bring my hands to his face and drag my fingers through his hair, closing my eyes.
“Don’t lie to me.”
I swear I feel his voice in my chest more than I hear it.
“Yes… Yes, sir…”
I’m not sure where this is coming from, definitely nothing I’ve ever said during sex before.
Before I can overthink it, he groans and starts to lengthen his strokes, rolling his hips slowly and more forcefully with each thrust, grinding against my clit each time he’s deepest inside me.
He balances on one forearm, lifting a hand to cup my breast and squeeze .
“Matti,” I moan. His grip on my breast tightens and becomes painful as he catches my hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeezes hard.
He pulls back from me, breathing heavily. The look in his eyes is wild, feral, but his voice is controlled.
Releasing my breast, he hooks an elbow underneath each of my knees, planting his hands on either side of my head. I gasp, my feet in the air, my knees by my ears, open wide for him.
“I’m going to fuck you hard now, kitten.”
He’s so big that this angle puts him all the way inside me, deeper than he’s been before, stretching me so that it burns at first.
I close my eyes, trying to relax despite the fact that I’m practically rolled up into a ball with my pussy pointed up toward the ceiling. It really fucking hurts, but in the best way.
Matti isn’t moving. “Look at me, Siena,” he growls.
I open my eyes, and his face is inches from mine. “Yes, sir,” I breathe, digging my fingertips into his rippling shoulder muscles.
Something changes in his face, and his intensity darkens. He begins thrusting harder, nailing me to the bed with the hard pounding of his dick, hitting that spot inside hard with every single thrust.
I’m so primed and ready from everything else he’s done to me today that it takes only a few pounding strokes for me to explode, my entire core spasming out of control.
I can hear myself screaming his name like it’s coming from somewhere else, and I feel like I’m about to black out as I drench both of us and the sheets with my cum.
“Holy shit, Siena.” He drops his chin to his chest and watches my big breasts bouncing with each thrust, fucking me harder and faster, triggering another orgasm to roll through me, this one a slow, delicious wave.
My hips buck against him of their own accord in rapid time, and he roars my name as he comes deep inside me.
**
We wake up the next day, damp and happy, tangled up in the sheets. All night we fucked, then slept, then fucked again. It was one of the best nights of my life, and despite getting very little solid sleep, I have never woken up more refreshed.
I roll over to see Matti out of bed already, zipping up his pants.
“I’ve got a few things to handle, kitten.” His demeanor is unreadable, reserved and distant. “Do you need anything?”
“A shower.” I remember the very expensive line of Bergamot & Basil bath products he bought for me. “Thank you for getting my favorite bath stuff, by the way.”
He dismisses me with a quick nod. “Do you have clean clothes?”
“Olivia brought me some things over the past few weeks, so I’m okay.”
Guilt flashes across his face, and my heart lurches. Is it because of Olivia?
He interrupts my thoughts. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to take care of you, kitten. But I’m glad Olivia was. At least she did something right,” he grumbles, snatching his shirt and tie from the floor.
He feels guilty that he was gone? Did not expect that.
“Hey,” he says, stopping at the door and turning back to look at me, his voice commanding.
I freeze. Every thought falls out of my brain.
“Yeah?” I ask, hoping I sound normal.
“Don’t forget that you have three more lashes coming your way to complete your punishment next time. Plus a few for coming without asking.”
My heart squeezes in my chest, and my pussy immediately clenches.
Next time…
“Oooh, scary,” I laugh.
He shakes his head with a slow smile, then looks at me through his lashes so intensely that my heart stutters before racing out of control. His expression darkens, and I frown, concerned.
“Um, are you ok—”
I don’t get the chance to finish. In a blink, he’s across the room and on the bed next to me. I shrink into the blankets, frozen, barely breathing. There’s something unhinged in his gaze as he grabs my wrists, pulling me upright, then cups my face in his hands.
He searches my face, his gaze flickering from my lips to my eyes and back again. His intensity is raw, vulnerable, his soul ripped open in front of me. I can’t breathe as I watch him wrestle with some unnamed emotion while I hold space until he finds resolution.
Running his thumb over my mouth, he parts my lips, and I all but stop breathing. He dips his head lower, so close that his breath fans against my skin, his mouth hovering just above mine.
I brace for him to crash into me, to claim me with the same intensity that blazes in his eyes, but he doesn’t. Instead, he ghosts his lips over mine, his tongue swiping over my bottom lip, teasing me, tasting me.
He pulls back, his eyes dark and searching, then leans in again, this time pressing his lips to mine with slow, deliberate force. It’s like an electric shock passes between us, tethering us together as he kisses me softly.
When his tongue meets mine, we both moan softly, and I reach for him, cradling his face as he threads his fingers into my hair, cupping the back of my head.
Slowly, languidly, he kisses me until I unravel, until I lose all sense of time and place. Until we’re tangled in each other, inseparable, nothing between us but heat and gravity.
When he finally pulls away, we stare at each other, breathless, wordless.
It has the same effect as a flamethrower melting me to the bed.