Chapter 7 Matteo #2

I guide her gently against the wall, hands at her waist, her body arching toward mine, answering every pull with her own. I kiss her deeper, like I’ve been starved for her taste.

She lets out a soft sound into my mouth, and it shoots straight through me. I feel her hand move downward, her touch bold, and heat flares through my entire body.

I let out a low groan, my breath turning rough.

“Careful, bella. Don’t tease unless you want me finishing every bit of what you’re starting.”

She leans in ever so slightly, lips curling.

“Who said I don’t want you to?”

She pulls me back into another kiss—hotter, more urgent—igniting something primal in both of us.

We break for air, panting, foreheads pressed together like we’ve forgotten how to breathe without touching. Her hands slide beneath my hoodie, skimming my skin, exploring me inch by inch. The contact burns in the best way—raw, overwhelming, impossible to pull away from.

Everything fades away but her.

I lift her easily, my lips trailing along the curve of her neck, and carry her to the couch.

I don’t need to look; I move on instinct.

We sink onto the thick leather, her legs wrapping around me as she straddles my lap.

The movement of her body against mine nearly undoes me.

Her mouth traces hot, unsteady kisses down my throat.

Her breath is molten against my skin. Her fingers thread into my hair, tugging just enough to make a shiver quake through me.

She rocks against me and gasps—and just like that, we both know.

This is not enough. There are too many barriers. Too many layers between us.

“Beatrice,” I murmur, her name roughened with heat and restraint. “If you want me to stop… say it now.”

She shakes her head slowly, breathless.

“I won’t.”

The certainty in her eyes hits me like a punch.

“You understand what this means?” My voice drops, low and edged. “One step past this, bella, and I’m done holding back. You won’t get the controlled version of me.”

Her voice is steady, unshaken.

“I don’t want you holding back.”

That’s all the permission I need.

Clothes slip away—careless, forgotten—until nothing remains between us but warm skin and the kind of heat that threatens to swallow us whole.

My hands roam her body, reverent and hungry all at once, memorizing every curve, every sound she makes.

I don’t ever want to forget this. I don’t ever want to forget her.

I lower my head, my mouth finding her skin, tasting the soft sounds she releases as she arches into me.

She cries out, her body pressing even closer.

“Oh—Matteo,” she gasps, voice trembling.

I capture her mouth again—this time slower, deeper. She tastes like surrender. Like something I was never meant to touch, yet can’t pull myself away from.

Her nails dig into my back as she moans into the kiss. We move like gravity is pulling us together, like we were always meant to collide.

But even in the frenzy, I feel it.

The edge. The point of no return.

And I don’t care.

“Fuck me, Matteo,” she begs, tugging my hair. “So hard I forget my own name.”

I chuckle darkly, lips brushing her ear. “Not yet. I want to taste you first.”

I flip her gently. Her back hits the couch as I slide down, kissing a trail between her breasts, her stomach, until I’m nestled between her thighs.

I drag my tongue slowly along her folds, savoring her taste. She bucks against me, moaning.

She’s divine, sweeter than I ever imagined she could be.

She tangles a hand in my hair, the other clawing at the couch. My tongue swirls around her pulsing bud as I plunge two fingers into her. I use my tongue and fingers to work her, coaxing her to the very brink of what she can handle.

Her body trembles. “Please… fuck… yes, right there…”

I feel her walls flex against my fingers. She’s close; I can see and feel it. But just as she is about to hit that glorious climax, I stop.

“No!” she whimpers.

I rise, hovering over her, our breaths tangling in the electric space between us. I run the head of my cock along her slick folds, teasing her swollen entrance, watching her eyes flutter in anticipation.

“So fucking wet.”

“No one before… ever got me like this,” she breathes the words.

"Look at me," I murmur, voice rough with desire. She meets my gaze, wide and wanting.

I press forward slowly, savoring the moment our bodies connect, and then with one deep, claiming thrust, I slide inside her.

She cries out, back arching as I fill her completely, the tight heat of her surrounding me like fire. I pause, gripping her hips, letting her adjust as we both gasp through the intensity.

She wraps her legs around me, her heels digging into my lower back. "Move, Matteo. Please."

I obey.

I start slow, deliberate, letting her feel every inch as I pull almost all the way out before driving back in with force. Her nails rake down my back, her lips parting with breathy moans that send sparks through my spine.

I set a rhythm that builds, quickens—a sensual, pounding cadence. The couch creaks beneath us, her body rising to meet each thrust. We're lost in the slick slide of skin, the echo of gasps and groans, the undeniable truth that we are made to fit just like this.

“God, you feel like heaven,” I growl into her neck, biting down gently before licking the sting away.

She moans louder, writhing beneath me, clutching me like I’m the only solid thing in a world unraveling. Our passion peaks higher with every movement, every whispered word, every scorching kiss.

This isn’t just sex.

It’s possession. Obsession. Salvation.

It’s earth-shattering.

Each thrust is a promise. Our bodies move in sync, raw and frantic. Her cries fill the room as I drive us both toward release.

“Yes, bella,” I groan. “Take it. Take all of me.”

She meets every thrust with equal fire, wild and breathtaking.

I feel her tightening around me, so close, so close—

A loud knock rips through the moment.

I jerk awake from the couch, the cool leather kissing my heated skin. I gasp like I’ve broken through the surface of the water.

Files tumble from the couch. Clothes are in place. And she… she’s gone.

No. Fucking. Way.

It was a dream.

A painfully vivid dream.

I glance down at my shorts, tented with frustration and a need that I fear only she can meet.

“Great.”

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