Chapter 14
Daniella
My pussy was in his face.
And not just in his face.
It was in his face. So close that I could feel his warm breath hitting me through the cotton material of my panties.
I know he was only trying to prove a point, but my lady parts couldn’t help but get excited at the thought of a man bringing me to an orgasm.
And now, as we sit on the couch, watching whatever is on, I can feel the dampness between my legs.
I want to excuse myself to go to the bathroom, but I’m afraid it will be obvious.
I’ve only been with a few men—two in college and the asshole I married—but sex with them wasn’t anything like how I’d imagined it would be, based on the romance books I’d read and the porn I’d watched.
Don’t get me wrong. I know both of those are fictional, but I figured they were based on reality.
Only in real life, the men I was with were selfish and only cared about getting themselves off.
The sex was okay, but I didn’t get off the way they did in books and videos.
So, I looked it up and found out that seventy percent of women couldn’t orgasm from penetration—which is kind of crazy, considering every romance book I’d ever read and every porno I’d ever watched had the woman screaming out in pleasure every time the guy entered her.
But that has nothing to do with the fact that the guys always wanted me to give them head, yet they never once made me come orally.
Yet Matteo was right there, with his face in my pussy, and I have to wonder if maybe he’s the kind of guy who would be willing to go down on me and pleasure me.
“Dani,” Matteo breathes, shaking me from my thoughts.
Usually, he calls me Little Russo, sometimes Daniella, but never Dani …
“Yeah?”
“Can you please stop fucking doing that?”
“What?” I glance at him in confusion.
“Clenching your fucking thighs together and rubbing against the cushion like you’re a bitch in heat.”
My eyes go wide. I wasn’t …
I squirm, and he groans, and I flinch.
Shit, I was totally clenching and rubbing. But it’s not my fault! The man was feeling me up and then had my pussy in his face. What the hell did he think was going to happen?
Just because he’s immune to my pussy …
“I am not immune to your fucking pussy!” he barks. “You see this?” He reaches down and wraps his fingers around his shaft through the material of his jeans.
Holy shit! Even with his pants covering it, I can make out the outline, and it’s huge.
“I’m not immune. But you’re Lorenzo’s little sister, and you just got out of a shitty situation, and fuck!” He scrubs his hands over his face. “You’re Lorenzo’s little sister,” he repeats. “I was trying to show you that your curves are beautiful, not get in your damn pants.”
“You think my curves are beautiful?”
Sure, he said they were useful for fucking and such, but he didn’t say they were beautiful.
“Dani,” he groans, flopping his head back against the couch.
“What?” I shrug.
Matteo closes his eyes for several seconds and then swerves his head to the side lazily, opening his eyes and looking at me. “Yes, your curves are beautiful.”
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. Earlier, he called me beautiful when he said he wouldn’t mind a beautiful woman staying with him, but I just thought it was a figure of speech. But this is different … Matteo thinks my curves are beautiful.
“Thank you,” I tell him, standing.
“Where are you going?”
“To my bedroom. I’m … tired.”
He quirks a brow, but doesn’t argue, and I head upstairs, on a mission to relieve the tension that’s built between my legs. I might’ve picked duds for sexual partners, but I’ve become an expert at getting myself off. All I need is my …
“Shit!” I hiss when I realize I don’t have my vibrator or an electronic device on me. I don’t even have my tablet to pull up a book and skim it to find a sexy scene that I can use to get myself off.
My thoughts go back to Matteo holding me up on his strong shoulders with my legs wrapped around his neck. I climb onto the bed and lie against the fluffy pillow, reaching into Matteo’s sweats and my underwear.
With how turned on I am from him touching me, it won’t take long. My fingers slide between my lips, and I groan at how wet I am. The pad of my finger finds my clit, and I close my eyes, recalling the way Matteo lifted me against the wall and told me to squeeze my legs.
Only this time, my underwear is off, and my pussy is dripping wet for him.
And instead of his face stopping inches away from me, his tongue darts out and licks my clit until I’m coming so hard that I’m tugging on his hair and screaming his name.
“Holy fucking shit.”
I pop my eyes open, thinking I just cursed out loud as my orgasm hit. Instead of being alone in my room with the door closed, I find the door is open, and Matteo is standing in the doorway, watching me finger myself.
“What are you doing?” I squeak out, embarrassed.
“I was going to my room and heard a noise. I thought maybe you were upset since you’d left the room so abruptly. So, I opened it, thinking you were crying, only you were …”
He nods toward me, and I glance down.
Shit! My hand is still down my pants.
I pull it out, and he groans.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He tilts his head up. “How is this my life?” He shakes his head and then glances back at me. “I’m pretty sure I’m being punished for everything I’ve ever done wrong in my life.”
I pout at that, a bit taken aback. I mean, he literally called me beautiful, yet the idea of me pleasuring myself is punishment?
“Nobody told you to open my door,” I snap. “And maybe if men were a little less selfish, women wouldn’t have to resort to pleasuring themselves.”
“I’m selfish?” He barks out a laugh. “You’re the one taking your fucking pants off and parading around in your goddamn underwear!
You’re the one grinding against the couch.
You’re the one fingering yourself and making ungodly noises in the room next to mine, knowing I can’t fucking touch you!
I’m selfish?” he spits. “No, you’re fucking selfish. ”
“Who says?” I shrug.
“What?”
“Who says you can’t touch me?”
I know I’m dancing too close to the fire, but I can’t help it. A worked-up Matteo is somehow even hotter. And the orgasm I just had has me feeling extremely relaxed.
“Who says?” He chuckles humorlessly. “How about your older fucking brother, who is also my best friend?!” he yells. “Next time, lock the fucking door!”
He slams the door behind him, clearly pissed, and that makes me smile. Because despite not wanting to be, Matteo is attracted to me.
I know I can’t act on it.
As he pointed out, he’s my brother’s best friend, and my brother would lose his shit.
Plus, Matteo isn’t the relationship type.
But still … it feels good to know that Matteo Antonov would totally fuck me.