Chapter 21
Daniella
Matteo is dyslexic. Now that I know, so many things make sense, like the way he always has an earbud in one ear.
Or how, sometimes, when he’s texting someone, he’ll voice-text it.
I thought he was just being lazy, but that’s not the case at all.
He’s adapted, and he has done a damn good job of doing so.
“All right,” he says, leaning against the counter, “let’s make this damn cake so I can eat some.”
I go about making the batter while Matteo watches. We talk about our day and what we should order in for dinner since we’re celebrating his birthday, and he invites me to his brother’s house for his birthday dinner tomorrow night.
“You’ll get to see my mom,” he says.
“I haven’t seen her in years. But my mom said she was so proud of her. She moved on and met someone, right?”
“Yeah. Some boring-ass financial adviser.” Matteo chuckles. “But she’s happy. I went to his office the other day to have lunch with them and walked in on them fucking.”
He mock gags, and I laugh.
“That’s what I want.”
He quirks a brow. “I didn’t know you were into voyeurism, but if that’s your thing …”
He shrugs a shoulder, and I slap his chest playfully, trying and failing to ignore how gorgeous his body is without a shirt on. Between his chiseled chest, masculine tattoos, and rock-hard abs, he’s a walking, talking fantasy come to life.
“Not watching people have sex!” I choke out, hoping he doesn’t hear how affected I am. “I want to be the one having sex in the office. I want a man who wants me so badly that he can’t help himself.”
I should’ve known that Enrique wasn’t really into me when I’d mention wanting to have sex and he’d tell me he was too tired.
“What’s this?” Matteo asks, picking up the bag of flour. “Almond flour?”
I nod. “You’re training, and it’s healthier.”
Matteo’s eyes go soft. “You looked up a healthier cake recipe for me, Little Russo?”
He uses my nickname, which I usually hate, but for some reason, this time, it sounds different on his lips—more reverent.
“Yes,” I breathe out. “The recipe is also high protein.”
Matteo glances around at the ingredients sitting on the counter with renewed eyes and smiles. Then, he smirks. “You sure this cake is going to be good? I’ve seen some of those videos people make, and that shit never looks edible.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
I dig my finger into the batter and then bring it up to his lips. He eyes it for a second and then parts his lips. But before he can wrap them around my digit, I pull back and pop it into my mouth.
“Mmm.” I moan. “Tastes good to me.”
His eyes narrow, and then he shocks me when he reaches into the mixing bowl and scoops up a good amount of batter.
“Matteo,” I say slowly, taking a step back. “What are you doing?”
“Getting a taste.”
Before I can escape, he pulls me into him and runs his batter-covered finger down my cheek.
And then … he licks my cheek.
Licks. My. Cheek.
“Mmm.” He moans the same way I did. “So damn sweet … just like you.”
I squirm in my spot, his touch causing my body to ignite, and he must notice because he smirks like the devil he is and then swipes some more batter onto his finger.
“Another taste?” he offers.
I narrow my eyes, and he grins coyly, telling me he’s up to no good.
“Just one more,” he insists. “To make sure it really is good. You wouldn’t want to give me a shitty cake for my birthday, would you?”
Reluctantly, I lean in to lick it off his finger, but he pulls the same move I made. Only instead of licking it himself, he swipes it across the seam of my lips.
“Seriously?” I groan. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to play with your food?”
“I never was good at doing what I was told,” he says seconds before he leans down and captures my mouth with his.
I’m so shocked by the turn of events that I don’t move as he sucks on my bottom and then top lip. And then his tongue glides across the seam of my lips, and I wake the hell up because, holy shit, Matteo is kissing me.
I part my lips, and his tongue slides in, finding mine. The taste of him, mixed with the chocolate cake batter, sends a wave of dopamine straight to my lady parts.
“So damn good,” he murmurs, pulling back slightly.
His eyes linger on my lips, and I internally pout, wanting more, wondering if this is all I’m going to get. A kiss … a damn good kiss. But instead of it quenching my thirst for Matteo, it’s only made me thirstier.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he mutters as he lifts me onto the counter and spreads my legs open so he can step between them.
“You’re off-limits,” he says as he reaches for more batter and runs it along the curve of my neck.
He leans in and licks and sucks the batter off my flesh, causing my thighs to clench.
“Matteo,” I breathe, unsure what I want to say, but knowing if he walks away now, I’ll never recover.
My last time was with a man I despised, but with every kiss and lick and suck, Matteo is reminding me how good it can be.
“Shh,” he says, taking my batter and painting my lips with it. “I promised myself I wouldn’t touch you.”
He eyes his handiwork, and I’m sure I look ridiculous with chocolate smeared across my mouth, but the way his eyes are burning with desire has me not giving a shit.
I need this man more than I need my next breath, and from the way he’s looking at me, I think he needs me too.
“I wanted to keep that promise.” His tongue darts out and wets his own lips, like he’s imagining what it would taste like to lick mine. “I’m not good for you, Dani. I can’t give you what you deserve.”
My heart lurches in my chest because he doesn’t understand what a catch he is. All he sees is that he’s his family’s weakness, a failure …
My thoughts go back to the night he showed me that I was more than just a size. I wish he could see what I see when I look at him. He’s selfless and kind and funny. He cares so much about the few people he allows in his life, and I feel so damn lucky to be a part of that small circle.
“Please,” I whisper. “I want you … more than I’ve wanted anyone in my life. The last man I was with was against my will.” I reach out and cup the sides of his face. “I get to decide what I want, what I deserve. And I want you.”
My words must be his breaking point because he mutters something that sounds a lot like, “Fuck it,” and then his mouth is back on mine.
Only instead of licking my lips like he did before, his skillful mouth curves around mine and devours me. Stroking, teasing, caressing. He kisses me like he’s a starved man and I’m the sustenance he needs to survive.
A whimper escapes me, and he breaks the kiss.
I’m about to beg him to come back when he lifts my shirt over my head and then reaches around and fists my ponytail.
He jerks my head back, exposing my neck and collarbone, and then proceeds to trail kisses along my sensitive flesh, down the center of my chest, and across the swells of my breasts.
His lips are firm, smooth, perfect. And when he nips playfully at my flesh, warmth floods my veins, making him smirk.
“Stop teasing me,” I mutter.
“It’s not teasing,” he says, kissing my lips softly. “It’s called foreplay. And if you think I’m going to rush my time with you, you’ve lost your mind. I plan to get to know every inch of your body.”
He gently pushes me back so he can have better access to the rest of me, and instinctually, my hands go to my stomach to cover the fat and stretch marks, but then I remember who I’m with and I move them out of the way.
Because Matteo has seen the imperfect parts of me, yet he still looks at me like I’m perfect.
“Fuck,” he mutters, taking me in.
Without my shirt on, I’m in a pair of pink cotton shorts and a simple black bra. But the way he’s raking his gaze over me, you’d think I was naked or wearing the finest lingerie.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he says. “Take your bra off. I want to see your tits.”
I sit forward slightly and reach around to unclasp my bra. Then, I lower the straps, letting it fall to the floor. Nothing about my breasts is perky or cute. They’re big and …
“Perfection,” Matteo says, cutting off my self-deprecating thoughts, right before he takes one into his palm.
Then, he leans in and wraps his lips around my nipple. He sucks on it, and it’s as if he has a direct line to my pussy because the harder he sucks, the more I’m certain my panties dampen.
“I love these,” he says as he moves from one breast to the other, giving each one attention before he pulls back and shakes his head. “I bet I could titty-fuck the hell out of you.”
I squirm in my spot, and he chuckles, knowing I’m affected by his words.
“You want that, Sweetness?” he murmurs, taking my breasts in his hands and squeezing them together. “You want me to slide my cock between these beautiful tits and fuck ’em until I’m coming all over your neck and face?”
Oh God, the visual alone damn near sends me into an orgasm.
“Yes,” I choke out. “I think I want that.”
He grins. “Me too. But not now.” When I pout, a devilish grin spreads across his face. “Right now, I need to taste you.” He taps the top of my thigh, and I lift, knowing what he wants without him needing to voice it. “I need to know if your pussy is as sweet as the rest of you.”
He pulls my shorts and panties down my legs, and I flinch when his gaze lands on my pussy.
“I haven’t done anything down there,” I admit sheepishly. “It’s been over a month … and before that—”
Matteo reaches between my legs and tugs on my pubes.
“I like this,” he says, spreading my legs wider. “Bald pussies remind me of hairless cats.”
I snort out a laugh and then sober quickly when he drops down, parts my lips, and pushes his face directly into my center. His tongue slides up my slit, and I grab ahold of his hair as he licks me up and down, making it a point to stop and suck on my clit every time he gets there.