Chapter 15 Stella
STELLA
When the familiar sound of Matteo’s engine pulls up the driveway, I immediately run toward the window in the living room to take a peek outside. He’s here.
My heart nearly beats out of my chest when he steps out of his car, but the blood on his sleeves makes me swallow away the lump in my throat.
What has he done?
He hands something to one of his employees, a bag filled with God only knows what, and then instructs him to do something. I wish I could overhear their conversation.
Suddenly, his eyes glance my way, the penetrative glare setting my soul ablaze before I swiftly hide behind the curtains and pretend I wasn’t peeking.
God, this is so dumb. He already saw me, so he knows I’m watching.
I sigh out loud at my own foolishness, then look again, but he’s already gone. His employee has fetched a shovel from the tool shed and is actually digging a hole somewhere in the yard while the bag lies next to him in the grass.
What the hell is he burying?
The door slams shut, and I run from the window to the door, tearing it open, only to meet Matteo’s fiery gaze head-on.
Fuck.
I have never seen him this bloodied before.
It’s like he doused himself in someone’s lifeblood.
“Oh my God,” I mutter.
He stares at me for a moment. “You changed out of the red dress.”
Wait, what? That’s what he focuses on right now? When he’s the one who’s covered in blood?
“Are you …?” I mutter.
“Hurt?” He narrows his eyes. “Is that what you were hoping, Tesoro?”
He walks up the stairs, and I immediately follow. “No, no, that’s not what I meant.”
He heads straight into his room, so I dart in behind him right before the door closes. He turns, and his lips part as if he didn’t expect me to follow him inside.
He’s absolutely covered in blood from head to toe; fingers, hands, chest, even his face. There are splatters everywhere, and it definitely doesn’t belong to him because he doesn’t even have a scratch on his face.
“Did you …?” I don’t even know how to finish my sentences.
His hand balls. “I wanted to. Desperately. But it would be an easy way out for a monster like him.” The rage he exudes is palpable, even from all the way over here. “I couldn’t stomach the thought of him hurting you, so I made him pay in blood.”
I’m amazed Matteo would actually hunt Lucio down for me. That he’d make Lucio pay for putting his hands on me when I was still his fiancée despite the fact that Matteo doesn’t even know me, and that I even tried to poison him.
He still cared enough to want to protect me.
I should hate Matteo for locking me up, but my icy heart is slowly melting away for him. I know I shouldn’t have these feelings. I know I shouldn’t ask.
But I still can’t help myself because I know how badly he wants revenge. “What did you do?”
“I took his fingers.” Matteo clenches his jaw while still breathing ragged breaths from the unchained anger. “He will never hurt you again. I swear until my last dying breath.”
He wants Lucio to suffer just as badly as I do, yet he did this all for me.
“You did that for me?”
Is it wrong to smile?
“I did it because it was the right thing to do,” he replies.
But it isn’t just the right thing. He knew this would set off a chain reaction that’s impossible to put out. He mutilated Lucio. His whole family will get up in arms.
He just started a war for me.
Matteo closes his eyes and grumbles to himself before he turns around and marches toward his shower. “I need to cool off.”
“Wait, but aren’t you hurt?”
I can’t help but slowly take steps toward the bathroom, lured in by the mere idea of him.
No one has ever done something like that for me before.
Absolutely no one.
He rubs his hands so roughly under the water in the sink that I fear he might get abrasions, so I grab his hands and stop him. He glances at me from over his shoulder, blood and war marring his face. But I’ve seen enough of this man to know he will always find a way to win.
And something about that is just so damn alluring.
I grab a towel lying next to the sink and dip it into the water, then softly brush away the blood off his cheeks, nose, and lips, lingering as they pull down with every stroke I apply. He doesn’t resist, but the stares, God, those needy stares are going to eat me alive.
Stay focused, Stella. You can do this.
I dip the towel under the water again and slide it down his neck, carefully removing the blood until there isn’t a trace left of his crimes. But when I get to his shirt and unbutton the top one, he grabs my wrist and stops me from going any further.
He clears his throat. “Don’t.”
When I was at my lowest, with all my pain on full display, he didn’t try to put me down any further. He helped me breathe through my panic attack until it subsided, and that’s something no one has ever done for me before.
And now it’s time for me to thank him for that.
I throw him a look. “Let me help.”
His lips grow thinner as if he doesn’t trust my offer. “Why?”
“Because you helped me.”
After a stare down, he finally releases me and lets me continue unbuttoning his shirt. It slides off his thick shoulders with difficulty, blood caking the fabric, but that’s not the reason it’s hard for me to focus. It’s the thick slab of abs revealed underneath when the shirt drops to the floor.
I pat the bloodied and tattooed skin down with the wet towel, trying not to be affected, while his breath picks up speed. His eyes lower along with mine, following every trace I leave, as if every single one of my touches makes him hungry for more.
Whatever you do, don’t fall for the man who keeps you locked up in his home.
I slip my hand down his tattooed chest and the ridges of his abs, all the way to his pants, where I dab off the remaining splotches of blood until nothing is left of the scene of the crime.
My eyes clamor up to his, but the moment our eyes connect, I have trouble looking anywhere else. It’s like I’m drowning in an endless vortex of his life, and there’s no stopping it, nor do I know if I can stop my own heart from throbbing faster and faster the closer he gets.
He grips my wrist midair as I reach his belt buckle. His breath is wildly out of control, and his pants are clearly tented, the rock-hard dick beneath twitching against the fabric.
“Please …” he whispers. “Stop.”
I swallow. Hard.
God … to hear this man beg is something else.
“Tell me why,” I say.
“Because I can barely contain myself when it comes to you,” he rasps.
I suck in a breath. “Because I’m annoying you?”
His hand rises, meeting my cheek as he softly strokes my skin and tucks a few strands of my blond hair behind my ear so gently I nearly melt into a puddle all over his bathroom floor.
“Because ever since we became husband and wife, I have wanted nothing more than to kiss you senseless.”
My knees nearly buckle.
“You’re gorgeous, and sassy, and so damn feisty.” A lopsided grin forms on his mouth. “I haven’t been able to get you off my mind since you set foot in my mansion.”
A blush creeps onto my cheeks.
“I know you hate me for what I’ve done to you,” he growls. “I’ve vowed to myself not to touch you, and I take my vows very fucking seriously. But you drive me fucking crazy, and I’ve wanted nothing but to fuck you raw against the walls around my house,” he grunts.
My lips part, and without thinking about it, I whisper back, “Free me … and I’ll let you kiss me again.”
His hand slowly lowers down my throat toward the ring dangling from my neck, a tepid smile forming on his face as he touches the ring like it’s a sign of reverence.
“I’m sorry, my beautiful, maddening wife, but I won’t allow you to blackmail me.”
He averts his gaze and turns around to walk toward the shower next to his giant bath.
How does he do this?
How can he resist the temptation when it’s become impossible for me?
He steps under the rain shower, and I immediately follow suit, not giving a shit that I’m still wearing my clothes when he turns on the faucet and lets the rain shower stream on top of us. He hasn’t even taken off his clothes yet because I’m still here staring at him, mere inches away.
He swallows, the Adam’s apple in his throat going up and down at the sight of me getting soaked, while my white shirt becomes completely see-through. My God, those eyes nearly devour me as they slowly slide down my body toward my peaked nipples.
Droplets of water roll down his cheeks, and he rubs his scruffy jaw, trying to control himself. “Get out of my room, Tesoro.”
I don’t intend to listen, and I doubt he can punish me any further.
The water is colder than I imagined he’d enjoy a shower, and he probably has a very good reason for it, but it won’t hold me back.
I start peeling at the buttons of my shirt, his eyes following my fingers as I pop them all loose, slowly revealing more of my skin. I know he’s already seen part of me, but I want him to see all of it so I can seduce him and make him betray his own rules.
His jaw clenches as I reach the final button and pull off my shirt, exposing myself to his lustful gaze.
“Stella,” he grumbles, clearly having trouble as his voice fluctuates with heat. “Please.”
I could listen to this man begging for days on end, but I have to focus on the task at hand. If I can get this man to fall for me, he’ll let me go, and then I’ll finally be free.
“If your plan is to make me want to touch you, it won’t work,” he says. “I told you I’m a man of my word.”
I smirk as I slowly begin to unbutton my pants as well, zipping down under his half-mast eyes. “Then don’t.”
I pull down my pants along with my underwear, kicking it all the way into a corner. I’m not afraid to be naked, to be seen by a man like him.
His pants tent, cock bobbing up and down uncontrollably behind the fabric as if he can nearly contain it from springing free. And I don’t even know if it’s water droplets running down his cheeks or sweat from the resistance he has to exert.
I lick my lips as I step closer, while Matteo remains steadfast under the shower, which slowly begins to heat just from our presence.
“I’m not going to touch you, Stella, no matter how hard you try,” he warns.
“No,” I say, mischievously placing a hand on his shoulder, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t touch you, right?”