32. Theo
THIRTY-TWO
THEO
I think I smell like him.
Even though Matteos’s bigger than me, he fits so nicely in my arms. He has his head in the crook of my neck, lips nibbling on my skin, leaving invisible marks.
I run my hand down his naked back, tracing the defined muscles, hopefully imprinting myself on him too. I bring his left hand up to my chest, placing it over my heart so he can feel the steady beat that’ll lull him to sleep.
He grumbles, squirming in my arms. “Not tired.”
“Yes, you are,” I whisper, grazing my lips against his forehead. “Go to sleep.”
“You won’t be here when I wake up,” he mumbles, and it’s so small for such a strong man like him.
I get choked up a bit by those few words and bring his knuckles up to my mouth. “Not tonight. I… I didn’t tell Clara I came home early.”
“You what?” he asks, snapping his head up, all traces of sleep gone. There’s something incredibly hopeful in his amber eyes, a glow that calls me to him. “So, you can stay the night?”
“Is that okay?” I ask, suddenly a bit flushed. It could have been a bit presumptuous of me to assume he’d want me to stay the night. I mean, I don’t have to. I just thought?—
“Get out of your head, precioso ,” he says, and it’s only now that I see the brilliant smile he’s throwing my way. “Of course, it’s more than okay. You can stay as long as you want.”
If only that were true.
I can spend the night, maybe one more day with him, but then I have to go home. I told Clara I’d be back in time for Sunday Mass, so she’ll be expecting me.
I bristle at the thought. I don’t want to think about that when I’m with Matteo. I don’t want to think of anything but him. All things that don’t revolve around us are inconsequential when we’re lying naked in bed tangled with each other.
“Go to sleep,” I tell him, bringing him back down onto my chest, hoping he doesn’t hear the uptick in my heartbeat. “I’ll be here when you wake up, baby. I promise.”
“Will I get breakfast in bed?” he teases, being a little shit and not falling asleep. No, now he’s wide awake and wants to play. He props himself up on his elbow and traces one thick finger up and down my chest. “We can start with your cum and then make eggs.”
No matter how used to his filthy mouth I get, I still blush every time. He seems to revel in it, however, because he leans up to nibble at my cheek. “ Precioso. ”
“Enough with the precious stuff,” I say half-heartedly, even though I’m sure he knows how much I love it. I swear, he knows everything. “We can make eggs and— Oh! I make really good pancakes! You have any instant batter?”
He wrinkles his nose as he thinks. “Maybe? Marcy does all my shopping, so I wouldn’t know.”
“A pampered prince then?” I joke, pinching his sides. “Seriously? You’re making Grandma Marcy do your chores?”
He narrows his eyes. “You try telling her what to do. She’d schedule my shits if I let her.”
We both laugh, only teasing. I know how much Matteo appreciates Marcy, and I love her like a grandma of my own. “Fine, okay. No instant batter. I can make just about anything that you have in your fridge.”
“You cook?” he asks, raising a brow.
I nod. “Yeah, not as much since…” I trail off, both of us knowing what I’m going to say, but neither of us wants to actually say it. “My parents taught me.”
“You never talk about your parents,” he says, sitting up against the pillows. “What were they like?”
I take a deep breath but where I’d normally feel a deep pang of pain talking about my parents, there’s none. It’s a subtle ache creeping into my bones, like a fundamental part of me is missing, but it’s bearable. “They were incredible.”
“What’d they do?”
“Mom was a teacher at the school and Dad worked in construction.”
“That’s interesting. Was he away a lot?”
I nod. Smallville doesn’t exactly have a pressing need for any new builds. “He had a company with a few guys here from town. They’d take jobs all over Wyoming and be gone weeks at a time.”
“That must have been difficult.” He reaches for my hand, dragging it onto his lap. “Him being away from you and your mother for that long.”
I shrug. “I mean, yeah, but not really. He’d always come back with some cool trinket from wherever he was. He’d have all these stories about the people he saw and the things he did. Plus, it was always nice to see Mom’s face when he came back.”
That’s something that has always stuck with me. While other kids had parents who barely tolerated each other, my parents were completely in love until the day they died. I saw it every time Dad came home from a work trip. The way he’d smile at her, his eyes lighting up as she’d throw herself in his arms, making you think it’d been years not weeks since they’d seen each other.
My parents were forever.
“Theo…” I don’t realize I’ve started crying until Matteo brushes his thumb against my cheek. “It’s okay, precioso .”
“Yeah, I know,” I chuckle weakly, wiping my tears away. “I just miss them, is all.”
He smiles sweetly and kisses my temple. “Of course you do.”
“It was the snow,” I start, holding his hand for support as I get to this part of the story. “Unlucky. They were driving home from a concert in Denver and got caught in a snowstorm. I… I don’t know all the details, but I don’t think I want to either. All I know is they left one night and just didn’t come home.”
He hugs me to his side, and now I’m the one enveloped in his arms. “That must be painful.”
“Are your parents still alive?” I question.
“Yes, but we’re not close. No reason, in particular. I joined the seminary, and we simply drifted apart.”
“You should call them,” I blurt out. I realize I might have overstepped by the way his eyes widen, and I shake my head. “You don’t have to, obviously. It’s just that I’d give anything to have my parents back and yours are alive so?—”
He cuts off my rambling with his lips, smiling against my mouth as he nods. “You’re right. I’ll call them.”
I can’t help but preen at this. I know it’s a bit silly to get butterflies at the thought that he’s taking my suggestion into account, but I can’t remember the last time anybody’s ever listened to me and thought that my points or considerations were valid. It’s still so foreign to me, this feeling of utter acceptance from Matteo is like he’s the first person to ever look at me and see my worth as more than it is.
“So,” I say, flipping over so I’m on my stomach and propped on my elbows. “What were you like as a kid? Probably a little asshole, right?”
He gives my shoulder a light punch. “I was a model student, thank you very much.”
“So, no sneaking out of the house to make out with girls? No cow tipping?”
He raises a brow. “Is that a thing?”
“Welcome to Wyoming,” I laugh. “Seriously though. Did you always know you were interested in men?”
He nods, and because he doesn’t like the space between us, he drags me until I’m draped on his stomach and looking up at him. “Always. Women are beautiful, but I’ve never found myself physically attracted to them. Men, on the other hand, are very attractive to me but…” He trails off with a wicked smile on his lips, his hand wandering down to grip my naked ass. “One man in particular has me very interested.”
I squirm pleasantly under his hand, hiking my ass up so he can get a better handful for good measure. While I’m completely into whatever dirty thoughts are rushing through his head, I want to know as much as I can about him, so when I feel him harden against my chest, I pull away. “Uh-huh. Smooth talking isn’t going to get my cock in your ass.”
“Really?” he says, no trace of shame or doubt in his dark eyes as he pushes me onto my back. I land with a yelp, unprepared when every glorious inch of him is pressed against me. “I think I could talk you into just about anything.”
I suddenly regret my words because— fuck yes —-he could get me to jump off a cliff if he asked me. Bonus points if it’s in Spanish. “You want me, baby?”
“I want to know every thought in your head,” he mumbles against my nipple, sucking me into his mouth tenderly, tongue dancing across me until my cock grows hard. He comes up with a wet pop, smirking as his other hand reaches down to cup my balls. “Your dreams, your desires, your fears. I want them to all belong to me.”
They do .
Every piece of me is his. The parts I’ve tried to hide that he’s seen regardless, the parts I want to keep secret, the parts that scare me—I want them all to be his so he can hold them in the palm of his holy hands and worship them with the same reverence he gives me.
“I want to be a writer,” I whisper through a gasp when he starts nibbling at the skin on the inside of my thigh.
I whine when he looks up, a serious arch in his brow. “You do?”
“I…” It’s so stupid. It’s never going to happen but still, I want him to know. “I want to write murder mysteries like Agatha Christie, you know? Old fashion detectives, shady businessmen, stuff like that.”
“Why don’t you?” he questions as if the answer should be obvious.
“Because I’m just?—”
“I swear if you say average I’m going to chuck you out the window.”
“—Um, uninspiring? I don’t know.” I drop my hands to my face, trying to hide my humiliation. “It’s just a dream, that’s it. It’s not like anyone would ever be willing to read what I write.”
Fingers come up to expose my face, and I’m met with a startling pair of understanding amber eyes. Matteo works his way back up my body, propping himself on his arms as he hovers over me. “You never know until you try. Have you written anything?”
“Bits and pieces,” I mumble, thinking about the barely-novel in my jump drive. “It’s not like I could ever finish anything anyway.”
“Come here then,” he insists. “When you want to write, come to the rectory and do it here. I promise I’ll read every single word and love it.”
I wrinkle my nose. “What if it’s bad?”
“Entirely impossible,” he chuckles, slapping a wet kiss to my cheek. “I’m sure you’re the greatest writer there ever was.”
I snort as I drape my arms over his neck and pull him down to meet his lips. “Now you’re sounding entirely biased.”
“Maybe,” he concedes. “But what can I say? Everything about you is extraordinary.”
And it resonates in my heart how much he means it. They’re not just words thrown into the night, said so confidently, but meaning nothing. No. Everything Matteo says has a purpose and everything is so sincere.
I’ve never felt anything other than average all my life, and I was okay with that. Just a small-town boy with a big dream living ordinarily. I didn’t expect any excitement in my life until Matteo waltzed into Smallville and threw a wrench in the monotony of my days. I feel like he sees me, not just for what I am, but for who I want to be.
I never thought I’d need that.
“Thank you,” I whisper, hating that my eyes itch with the feeling of barely holding back tears. “Thank you, baby.”
“You never have to thank me for appreciating you,” he tells me, resting one hand over my heart. “It just is, precioso .”
The feel of his hand on my chest has my body singing but something cool against my skin takes my attention. I look down at his hand and notice something I didn’t before. “What’s this?”
His eyes widen only a touch as I point out the new ring on his left hand. It’s pretty, a clear blue, almost made of some sort of stone. He retracts his hand as he turns and plops on his back. “It’s a ring.”
I roll my eyes with a laugh. “I know it’s a ring. Where’d you get it?”
“The flea market today,” he tells me, nervously playing with the ring, and it makes my brows raise. When he notices my expression, he blanches. “What?”
“Baby, are you anxious?” I tease only lightly, snatching his hand at the last second so I can get a better look. “I like it. Why are you being so twitchy about it?”
My comment makes his jaw harden but not out of anger. He looks almost determined as he lets me play with his ring finger. “I got it because it’s the color of your eyes.”
“It’s beautiful,” I say, breath hitching at my next question. I know I shouldn’t ask, but I also know I’ll regret it if I don’t. “Why this finger?”
Why his left ring finger? Maybe it’s just a coincidence, or maybe it’s just where the ring fits best, but something in my gut tells me it’s not either of those.
He chews the inside of his cheek, thinking through his words, almost like he doesn’t want to say it. “It’s because…”
When he hesitates, I lean up, brushing my nose against his chin. “You can tell me anything.”
“Because you have my heart, Theo,” he stutters, breaths shaky and uneven as he stares down at me. “Because even though you don’t belong to me like… that , it’s how I feel I belong to you.”
The words shudder through me. I gasp, my heart softening and cracking open at the vulnerability in his handsome face. I feel like laughing, crying, hugging him, pushing him away, I feel everything all at once.
It’s because now I know I’m in more than lust with Father Matteo.
It hits me with the force of a rogue wave. It washes over me and drags me into the dark depths. It forces its way down my throat and to my stuttering lungs.
I’m in love with him.
That’s what this feeling is. That’s what our connection is. That’s why I can’t get him out of my head. It’s exhilarating and daunting, bordering on dangerous, but entirely intoxicating.
How could I not love him?
His kindness, his grace, his ability to make me someone I want to be rather than who I am. He took a broken man, lost in a crowd he didn’t recognize, and made him someone.
Someone brave. Someone strong. Someone happy.
The words are on the tip of my tongue— I love you, baby —ready to spill and be set free, but I hold back. He can’t feel the same way. Matteo is gifted with his words, an eloquent speaker, and his passion could be mistaken for love, but how would I know the difference?
No, if I tell him… it could ruin everything. It could all crumble under the weight of my confession if he doesn’t feel the same way. Then what would be left of me?
It terrifies me, both the realization I’ve come to and the idea that he would leave me. It rattles my bones, makes my head spin in circles, and it’s all too much for me to handle.
“Theo…” he mumbles, cocking his head to the side in worry. “ Precioso , did I say something wrong?”
I shake my head. “You said everything right,” I admit softly. I take a deep breath before pushing at his chest. “Lay on your back. Please.”
He cocks a brow, but does as I say, moving slowly until he’s lying beside me. I feel the tremble in my body straight down to my toes as I kneel beside him, eyes tracing every inch of his beautiful physique. He’s like out-of-a-magazine gorgeous, and although he’s said what he sees when he looks at me, I’ll never not be in disbelief that I’m the one he’s chosen.
“What are you going to do?” he asks, curious and a bit excited as I move and position myself between his spread legs. “Theo?”
“I want my mouth on you,” I whisper, running my hands up and down his strong thighs.
He swallows audibly, Adam’s apple bobbing as his jaw clenches. “You sure?”
I nod, leaning to ghost my nose down his hard cock. “I want to make you feel good.”
That’s all I ever want to do. Sure, I've never given a man a blowjob, but I also hadn’t kissed a man before Matteo. In a way, I’m giving him all my firsts, and the thought makes me feel just as special as he does. There’s so much I want to do with him, maybe one day even let him…
“Will you be gentle?” I breathe against the base of his dick, carefully wrapping my hand around him.
He grits his teeth, holding onto the comforter on either side of him, knuckles turning white with the effort to hold himself back. “No.”
Good.
“How will I know if I’m making you feel good?” I question, the need to have this be perfect for him buzzing around my excitement.
“You nervous, precioso ?” he teases as he thumbs my lip and works my jaw down. “All you want to do is make me come with your pretty mouth? Make it good for me?”
I nod quickly, gravitating around his cock, ready to do anything he tells me. “What should I do?”
“Just open your mouth and take it.”
True to his word, he isn’t gentle as he thrusts into my waiting mouth. I feel every inch of him as I open wider, lips stretching around his thickness, tongue lying flat to accommodate the intrusion. My hands scramble for his thighs to hold myself to him, otherwise the sheer force of him would have sent me flying on my back.
It’s so different than I thought it would be. I hadn’t thought it would be uncomfortable, but I also hadn’t predicted the heavy weight of him, or his taste could bring me this much arousal. Just resting in my mouth, his dick twitching with the need for release, already has my cock aching.
“Going to rest here for a second and tell you what’s about to happen.” He finally lets go of the comforter to run his fingers through my hair. “I’m going to fuck your face and come down your throat. Listen and be good, precioso . Can you do that for me?”
I nod, eyes locked on his, and my hands squeeze his thighs.
“Like that,” he comments. “You need a break, tap my thigh. If not, I’m going to wreck that beautiful throat of yours until you’re so hoarse you can’t even scream out my name when it’s your turn to come.”
The promise has my eyes rolling to the back of my head. I love it when he’s like this. I get off on being his perfect pet, someone he can tell exactly what to do, both of us only wanting to bring him pleasure.
He groans loudly as his fingers dig into my hair. “Yes. Been waiting for this. Fuck, your mouth is hot.”
I mumble a polite thank you around his cock that he can’t hear because he’s too consumed at the moment, moaning and growling as he starts using the hand in my hair to bob me up and down his shaft. He’s not slow, either. He’s using every ounce of strength he has to move me like he wants me, building up to an aggressive pace that borders on frantic. When I try to hollow out my mouth, the light sting of a soft slap against my face stops me.
But it also makes my cock leak.
“No sucking,” he commands, yanking me off his cock harshly. “Lick it.” I do as he says, tongue flicking out clumsily to taste every inch of him. When I don’t quite reach the spots he wants, he seizes my chin and angles my head up. “Twirl your tongue around the head. Taste what you’re doing to me.”
My eyes flutter shut at the first swipe of precum on my tongue. I already know what Matteo’s cum tastes like, but this is different. It’s like the appetizer before the main course, something to build up your anticipation, promising that the next treat will be just as good as the last.
“Can I?—”
“What, precioso ?”
“Can I play with your foreskin?” I ask hesitantly, drawn to the way it’s wrapped around him.
His smirk is wickedly sinful as he nods, angling the base of his cock toward my mouth. “I like a little teeth.”
I’m not exactly sure what that means but when I take him in once again and gently scrape my teeth up and down his extra skin, marveling at the smoothness, he chokes out a pleasurable curse.
“Oh my fuck,” he groans, back arching off the bed. “Just like— yes —you have such a sweet mouth.”
My cheeks flame at his praise, only encouraging me to continue what I’m doing. He told me not to suck, so I don’t. I let my mouth be a hole for him to use, covering my teeth when he once again takes charge.
I want to close my eyes and let the sensations overwhelm me, but I refuse to miss a single second of how beautiful Matteo looks.
He’s staring down at where he’s disappearing inside me, curls fanning over his forehead, a sheen slick of sweat already on his chest. The veins in his biceps are pulsing with how tightly he’s holding onto me and his lip is curled into a lustful snarl. He looks like one of those mythical gods that take lowly humans away from Earth to use for their pleasure.
And that’s what Matteo reminds me he’s doing.
When he snaps his hips and forces his cock down my throat, he curses again but stops. I glance up to see his eyes wide with surprise, so I pull back to hear what he has to say. “Matteo?—”
“Theo, do you not have a gag reflex?”
Once again, I turn red. “No, I don’t. I?—”
But I’m quickly cut off with a yelp when Matteo sits up, throws me onto my back, and gets out of bed. I’m confused but also incredibly turned on as he rushes to the front of the bed, pulling me by my shoulders until my head’s dangling off the edge.
“Baby?”
“You thought I was rough before? Precioso , you have no idea what I’m going to do to you now.” He cradles my face in his hands and pries my mouth open. With a reverence only he can possess in a moment of heated passion, he runs his finger against my bottom lip with a sweet smile. With a dirtiness not entirely unexpected of him, my eyes roll to the back of my head when he puckers his lips and lets a long line of spit fall into my waiting mouth. “Remember, tap my thigh if you want me to stop.”
I nod, about to tell him that I won’t ever want to stop being at his mercy like this, but I don’t get the chance to when he once again enters me.
Only this time he doesn’t stop.
My eyes water as I stretch around him, my heart skipping a beat as I take more and more of his length until my nose is buried in his balls. He lets out a primal growl, thighs clenching as he wraps his hands around my throat.
“ Fucking… Theo, mi precioso , I can feel myself in you,” he slurs. “Feel myself fucking you.”
My eyes begin to water as breathing becomes harder. I don’t tap his thigh, but I do twitch, struggling for air. To this, he rubs his hands up and down my neck. “There, it’s okay, just breathe through your nose.”
I do as he says and, although it’s still a little challenging, I don’t feel like I’m bordering on passing out anymore. “That’s it,” he praises. “Hold on to something.”
My hands immediately find his ass just as he pulls out only to slam his cock back deep into my throat. The force of his movements rocks me on the bed, jolting my body with the intensity of his passion.
“Perfect little fuckhole,” he growls as he massages my throat tenderly. “Need to get myself a toy. Want to be fucked while I’m fucking your throat.”
I let out the most pathetic whine at the image. I’ve never thought of sex as primal before—a raging desire that burns you from within—but now I find that there’s no limit to my imagination.
My throat feels abused and sore. Like only his cum can make the damage he’s reaping worth it. Every grunt he lets out tightens something within me until I feel the urgent need to tap his thigh. I lay there squirming, whimpering, digging my nails into his ass cheeks before I can’t take it anymore. I’m burning hot, everything inside me fluttering and buzzing, my gut clenching and clenching and clenching to the point of pain. I pinch his skin, and he immediately pulls out, concerned guilt marring his face as he rushes to tip my head up comfortably.
But it’s too late.
“Theo—”
“ Fuck !”
Hot ropes of my cum decorate my chest as I let out a cracked scream. It’s like all the air in my lungs races out of me, the beat of my heart pounding in my damn toes as every part of me convulses. I feel boneless, weightless, shameless, and I cry again when Matteo leans and sticks his cock back in my mouth.
“Did you just come untouched like a good boy?” he taunts, suffocating me with his length, bruising my throat with his fingers, claiming my very existence as his. “Need you to finger me. Finger me until I unload inside that gorgeous throat. Finish me off, precioso .”
I don’t know how to do that without lube, but Matteo does. He snatches my hand, still pumping into my mouth, and drags my fingers through the sticky cum on my chest. Without him needing to show me anymore, I use one hand to spread apart his cheeks while my other teases his hole. I don’t even need to press hard because the movement of his hips brings my finger deeper and deeper and deeper until he’s cursing out my name.
The sweetness of his cum shoots down my throat, easing the ache. Little dribbles of it spill down my face when he pulls out, and he spreads it across my cheeks like he’s an animal claiming his favorite fuck.
He falls to his knees, a breathy laugh leaving him as he leans against the edge of the bed next to my face. He wipes back my sweat-matted hair, pressing little kisses to my forehead like he didn’t just rock my fucking world.
“You did such a good job,” he whispers in my ear, brushing his thumb down my throat, mouthing the trail he leaves. “You were so perfect, Theo. So perfect for me.”
My eyes flutter close at his praise, at his attention, at his care. After a moment, and when he sees I’m not moving, he chuckles again and crawls onto the bed. He lays down and brings me into his arms, rocking me back and forth with more whispered words of reassurance that I’m the best for him and that nobody can treat him so well . I soak it all up like the warmth of the summer sun, basking in his comforting presence and soothing touches.
“You with me, precioso ?” he asks after a bit, fingertips still ghosting over my naked skin that remains trembling from his brutal passion. “Theo? Did I break you?”
“You fucking broke me,” I mumble, and I’m sure my smile looks as cum-drunk as I feel. I turn in his arms, burying my nose in his chest. “I’m dead to the world.”
“Well, that makes sense, because I think you forgot something. What do you say?”
I pull back with a quirked brow and spot his teasing smirk. I huff out a chuckle. “Thank you, baby.”
He hums to himself, so fucking cocky as he drags me back against him. “We should shower again.”
“No,” I argue sleepily.
“Theo, you’re covered in cum?—”
“Don’t care.” I don’t care that we’re both filthy messes, I don’t care that we’re laying the wrong way on the bed, and I don’t care that it’s not even fully dark out. I just want to go to sleep, wrapped up in the arms of the man I love…
Pretending that maybe he loves me too.