Matteo

Chapter 21 Matteo

MATTEO

A few days later

When I’m finally back home from the hospital late at night, it feels like it’s been ages since I last stepped into my own room, and I take in a deep whiff to memorize the scent.

I nearly lost my life back there, but I’m glad I’m still here, living another day, so I can see my quest for vengeance fulfilled.

A certain someone clears her throat, and I open my eyes and turn around to see Stella standing in my room with a smug smile on her face.

“Someone’s happy to be back.”

“Happier now that I see your beautiful face,” I say, waiting for the inevitable blush. And my God, is it pretty.

Stella stayed by my side the entire time I was in the hospital, and I must say it was quite indulging to have her spoon-feed me my meals. Not because I couldn’t pick up a fork, but because she wanted to make sure I ate well and built up my strength before I tried escaping again.

“Are you sure?” she says. “I mean, I’m the one who kept you there in the clinic.”

A smirk forms on my face. “You keep a better eye on me than Franco.”

She smiles, hiding laughter behind her hand. “You tried to force him to get you your car.”

I laugh too. “Touché.”

I approach my cabinet and pull a certain necklace with the ring she discarded from a little treasure box. Her eyes fixate on the ring, and I hold it out in front of her.

“I had it fixed by a jeweler.” I pause. “I don’t have the right to put this back onto your neck or your finger, but it will always be yours.”

She blushes and reaches for it, then puts it back on her neck herself, and I couldn’t be more proud.

“I’m sorry I threw it at you,” she says.

I shake my head. “No, you were right. I deserved your anger.”

Her mouth tips up into a smile. “Thank you for keeping it safe. It does mean something to me.”

Something.

I’ll take it.

Something is better than nothing at all.

Stella

“I’m happy you feel that way.” Matteo’s face erupts into a smile so handsome it makes my knees weak. “There’s actually something else I wanted to give you.”

I frown, confused. “What do you mean?”

He reaches into his drawer and pulls out a phone. And not just any phone. Mine. “Wait. You kept it there all this time?”

He nods. “You were so eager to run away from me, I couldn’t risk it, but at the same time, I knew I needed to give it back to you someday.”

He holds it out to me, and I take it from his hand.

“I trust you, Tesoro.”

I pause as the words resound in my ears.

He trusts me?

“You saved my life.”

So that’s why he’s giving it back. He must think I will never betray him now that I’ve shown him I care for him.

I gulp as I take back my phone and smile, my feelings one bungled-up mess twisted inside my chest. I wish I knew what to do, what to think, how to react to all of this.

I turn around and open my phone, swiping through my things to check, but nothing has been altered. It’s exactly the way it was back when he took it from me.

I open the contacts list and instinctively stop at the 911 button, pausing to stare at the idea of calling for someone to take me out of here while I bite my lip so hard I begin to bleed. As my thumb hovers over the button, I suck up the droplet, then glance at him over my shoulder.

He’s already walked to his closet and grabbed a pair of sweatpants without so much as a care in the world that he just gave me a tool to destroy him.

Just this one singular push of the button can make it all come undone. Like dominos falling, his empire would crumble. And it’s my choice.

My finger begins to tremble.

I can’t. I can’t do that to him. I can’t destroy his life.

I thought I could, and I was capable of it mere days ago, but now? Everything’s changed.

Just that one encounter at the cemetery, and it’s shifted my world on its axis.

I push the contacts list away and swiftly open a new tab on the browser, searching for a translation website, and I type in the word “Tesoro.”

Treasure.

That’s what he’s been calling me ever since I came into his house.

He always calls me a treasure.

His treasure.

Butterflies explode in my belly, and my heart radiates like a thousand suns so bright.

“Something wrong, Tesoro?” he asks.

Shit.

I quickly turn off my phone and place it on the cabinet, then turn around, but I can barely look at him. How could I, when I just found out the entire reason for the nickname he gave me is because he adores me?

“No, nothing.” I clear my throat. “Are you going to bed now?”

I feel silly even asking, but my brain is completely fried after what I just found out.

“Well, I don’t want to, but it’s what the doctor prescribed,” he replies. “And my wife wants me to listen to my doctors.”

“True …” I mutter, but my voice tapers off as he begins to take off his shirt, one button after the other, revealing all the chiseled, tattooed muscles underneath.

And I just forgot how to think.

Matteo

Her eyes follow every move of my fingers, and she bites her lip when I remove the fabric entirely and chuck it onto the floor.

I adore the way she looks at me, how she can barely help her eyes from gorging on me, as the same lewd thoughts currently rushing through my mind are probably zinging through hers.

I unzip and pull the button loose, and my fingers curl under the fabric of my pants to push them down while she just keeps staring like I’m a five-course meal. What a brazen little vixen.

“Are you going to stand there and watch me?” I ask.

She clears her throat as a massive blush forms on her skin, and then she turns around, probably embarrassed I caught her in the act.

Guess I’m not the only one fantasizing about having her in twenty different ways.

I chuckle. “I don’t mind.”

I take everything off and put on the sweatpants I fished from my closet, then walk over to her, brushing the tip of my index finger along her shoulder to move her hair out of the way so I can lean in and whisper.

“Thank you.”

Goose bumps erupt on her skin, scattering everywhere my finger left a mark.

She spins on her heels, shocked by my closeness. “What?”

“You heard me,” I say.

“But why?”

“Because you stayed by my side.”

She sucks on her bottom lip while looking at me, really looking at me for the first time, and I feel humbled by her gaze.

Her fingers rise to touch the scar on my skin left by the bullet, almost as if she can’t stop herself.

It doesn’t hurt anymore. It only reminds me of the stakes I have in this game.

It used to be all about my revenge. I didn’t care about anything else, not even my life. But now there is her.

All there is … is her.

My hand instinctively covers hers, and she swallows.

“Is it painful?”

I shake my head. “I’m lucky. Pain doesn’t faze me, but I’m far luckier that I have you by my side.”

She averts her gaze, so I cup her face and make her look at me. “You stayed with me. Tell me why you didn’t run.”

“Because …” she mutters without finishing her sentence.

“I told you to run. Why didn’t you?” I ask, searching her face for the truth. “Tell me.”

“I didn’t want you to die,” she says, tears staining her eyes. “And if I had run, you’d be dead, and it would’ve been all my fault.”

I grab her close and hug her tight. “I’m still alive thanks to you. If you hadn’t been there, Lucio would have certainly gotten to me.”

She rests her head on my shoulder, and I feel her visibly relax. It means the world to me that she feels safe in my arms.

“When you got hit by the bullet, I was so scared you were going to die,” she whispers.

“Scared that your unwanted husband would be dead?” I smirk, finding her eyes in the light. “And then you’ll be left with all of his fortune. Pity.”

She chuckles and playfully slaps me on the shoulder. “Oh my God, Matteo. You know I don’t care about money.”

I smile. Her laughter always brings me joy. “Good night.”

With my hand on her waist, I lean in to press the smallest of pecks to her cheek, but when my lips leave her skin, my body refuses to move away as her eyes find mine again, lips quaking, a needy breath shuddering in her throat.

I can feel the tension, like a physical spark lighting the air between us.

Fuck.

I want her. I want her so badly I can barely breathe.

But I have to remain a gentleman, always, because she’s worth the wait.

I know she wants me too, because I can feel it from the way she touches me and the way she looks at me, but she’s still fighting the attraction. That is why she didn’t listen in the cemetery. She wasn’t scared of all those men. She couldn’t bear to leave my side.

If it wasn’t for her, I would have died. She saved me, and that means something.

And maybe, just maybe, we’re both tired as hell of fighting against it. And I think it’s about time we do something about that.

Stella

His jaw clenches. And I don’t know why I notice, but I do.

As he steps away from me, my skin still tingles where he kissed me. He walks backward, not taking his eyes off me for one single second as he sits down on the edge of his bed, legs spread, pants obviously tented.

I swallow away the lump in my throat because of my throbbing pussy.

He leans back with his hands on the bedding, a smirk slowly forming on his face. “Good night, Stella,” he repeats.

But all I can do is stare at the beautiful man in front of me in those ungodly sweatpants that should be forbidden, wondering how much longer I can resist. The quiet in the room is in such clear contrast with the noise in my mind.

“Aren’t you going to leave?” he asks, pausing for a second. “Do you even want to?”

I gently shake my head.

“Then what do you want?” he asks.

I take a single step closer, lured in by the possibilities that are endless and beyond my wildest imagination. But God, do I want this man. It’s been eating me alive because I hate it. I hate how much I want him even though he’s my captor.

There’s just something about him—about the way he moves, the way he acts—that makes me stay.

He let me talk to my mother, the one thing that meant the most to me, and it nearly got him killed.

Still, he didn’t seem to regret it for one second that he took me to see her.

He risked his life to give me what I wanted.

And my heart is beating so fast I can barely take it.

“Do you want me to kiss you again?”

I take another step closer.

There’s a filthy smile on his face. “Come here.”

God, the way this man commands my body with such ease should be studied.

When I’m right in front of him, I instinctively straddle him, wanting that closeness, and I grab his face with one hand, leaning in so close I can feel his breath on my skin.

His hands are still firmly planted on the mattress, as if he’s physically restraining himself to hold back. “Ask.”

God, just that one word makes him so insufferable … and so damn inescapable.

“Kiss me,” I murmur so close to his lips I can almost taste them just from the memory alone.

A cheeky grin forms on his face. “You didn’t ask.”

My lips brush against his. “Do I really need to?”

I plant my lips onto his, softly pecking him, and the humming groan that emanates from deep within his body sets mine on fire.

He groans with frustration as I lean back just a little, and he slams his lips back onto mine with fervor, eager for more.

His hands reach up to grasp my waist, his calloused fingers sending shocks down my spine, as our kiss deepens, his lips tantalizing and hot as he forces mine apart to roll his tongue around.

I moan into his mouth, and his length bounces against his sweatpants.

The fact that I arouse him so much is such a turn-on that I grin while kissing him, and as his tongue twists around mine, I grab his hands and shove them down to my ass.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his dick bobbing up and down again.

“Yes,” I whisper against his lips.

“Is that an indecent proposal, Tesoro?” he murmurs, kissing me while squeezing my ass.

“I wasn’t asking,” I reply, “I’m demanding.”

“You know I don’t take kindly to being bargained with,” he says, tugging at my lip with his teeth. “Saved by my wife, yet she still wants to blackmail me.”

“I won’t.”

He raises a brow, nipping at my lips. “That’s not enough, Tesoro.”

I swallow and gently kiss him again. “I want you.”

“Make me believe it.” The fire raging in his eyes is unmistakable, desire threatening to consume us both.

I kiss him deeper, harder, faster, wanting more of him, more of that sliver of need he’s giving me, while hiding the pure, animalistic hunger underneath.

I whisper into his ear, “Fuck me.”

His cock throbs beneath my thighs, another groan escaping his mouth. “No.”

Still, his lips leave scandalizing kisses all over my neck, and I struggle to even breathe.

God, why must he torture me so much? First, the shower, and now this.

His hands slide up my back as his kisses grow mad with lust, and my mind is reeling.

I should hate him for making me his wife against my will, but I want him so badly I can’t even function or think about anything other than fucking him right here, right now.

I don’t care about the consequences, and I don’t care if it doesn’t get me out of here. I don’t want to use him to free myself. I want to use him to satisfy this deep ache for him that’s taking control of my body.

I grab his face and kiss him so hard that his nails dig into my flesh as my tongue dips out to roll around his, desperate for more.

“Take me,” I say.

“No,” he growls against my lips.

I suck in another desperate breath between kisses. “Please.”

I never thought I’d ever beg a man, but here I am, on his lap, begging him to fuck me hard, like an animal in heat.

“What do you want?” he asks me again.

“I want you,” I repeat.

“I’m a monster. I won’t let you go. I’ll keep you here, in my house, forever. I’m a selfish bastard because I want to keep you all for myself. You shouldn’t ever want me, and this is your last chance to back out of this,” he says between breathy, needy kisses.

I don’t care anymore. I’m done fighting. This push and pull had to end somehow. And this man, God, this man has been taunting me with those delicious lips and those maddening looks until I just fucking caved.

“Please,” I say, kissing him again and again. “Make me yours.”

His jaw clenches. “On your knees.”