Chapter 17
Raven
The answer is no. I do not get to come that night, or the next, or the one after that.
It’s been three days of going to dinner and the Leone Room, and each minute spent with Matteo feels like the longest and most frustrating foreplay. It’s infuriatingly delicious.
Infurilicious. That’s what it is.
“Fuck, you make it hard to walk away,” Matteo groans as my back hits my apartment door and he crowds me against it, his breath hot on my neck, his hands braced on either side of my head.
I’m trembling with need. By now, it’s a desperate craving that pulses between my thighs with every thundering heartbeat.
His knee wedges between my legs, and I gasp, unable to stop myself from grinding down on the firm pressure. God, I’m so worked up my arousal is soaking through my underwear, and the knowing smirk on his face tells me he can feel it.
“Then come inside,” I breathe, fumbling for my key. My fingers shake as I press it into his palm. “Please.”
Matteo’s gray gaze darkens as he studies my face, a half-smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Can’t tonight, Little Thief.” The roughness of his voice is enough to make me shiver. “I need to… talk with the guy you pointed out to me.”
“Seriously?” I squeak, indignation flaring alongside my arousal. “You’re turning down sex with me to talk to that guy?”
A couple of hours before we left, I noticed one of the guys at the bar had a circle tattoo. I told Matteo about it, and within seconds, his men took the guy aside. I’m assuming it was to talk, and I’m pinning any indication or thought they might do more than that.
“Yes,” he groans as he cups my breast.
Despite just deciding to pin reality, I need to know the guy will be okay. “Matteo?”
“Mhmm.”
“Are you going to kill him?” My breath hitches and a tremor runs down my spine as I ask. See, this is why pinning stuff is so much better.
It takes me a full two minutes of Matteo licking and kissing my neck to realize he hasn’t answered me.
“Matteo,” I hiss. “Answer me.”
“Raven—”
I interrupt him by pulling his hair hard enough to lift his head and then I slap my hand over his mouth. “I changed my mind,” I rush out. “Don’t answer. And don’t kill him. Please.”
Tilting his head, he moves one hand to my throat and squeezes until my lips part on a gasp. “Why are you so eager to keep him alive?” he growls, anger lacing his words.
“Because…” I wheeze as his hold on my throat intensifies. “I can’t be the reason he dies, Matteo. I want you to promise me you won’t kill him.”
With another groan, he lets go of my throat and grinds his hard cock against my stomach as he fuses our lips together in a hot and hard kiss that sadly ends way too soon.
“Fine,” he relents. “I promise.”
I press myself against him, deliberately dragging my body up his.
“Thank you,” I purr. “Now, are you sure you don’t want to come in?
I could make it quick and get on my knees right here.
” My hand slides down to cup the impressive bulge straining against his pants.
“Suck your cock until you forget your own name.”
My one regret about the night we spent together is that I never sucked him off. I love giving blowjobs, and I wanted to. But I got greedy, selfish even. Every touch of his fingers, cock, mouth took me to new heights, and I wanted more.
His breath catches, the only sign that my words affect him at all. “It’s tempting,” he murmurs, his fingers wrapping around my wrist to stop my exploring hand. “But I prefer to take my time with you.”
“Your loss.” I shrug, trying to sound casual even as my entire body screams with frustration. “I give spectacular head.”
“I don’t doubt it.” His thumb circles my wrist, pressing against my racing pulse. “But I have business to attend to.”
With a very theatrical huff, I turn to unlock my door. “Fine. I’ll just handle things myself.”
“Are you teasing me, Little Thief?” he asks, voice dropping to that dangerous register that makes my stomach flip. “I really hope not.”
I grin. “Unlike some people I know, I don’t tease. I know what I want, and I’m not above begging for it, Matty.” He groans and rakes a hand down his face when I use his nickname.
While it started as a joke, because he’s just so not a Matty, it’s growing on me. Or maybe it’s the way he reacts every time I use it.
Matteo leans in, his chest pressing against my back as his lips brush my ear. “If you’re going to be touching yourself, I want a picture.” My blood sings and my clit throbs at the deep timbre of his tone.
I open my mouth to remind him that since he’s the one leaving me high and dry, I’m not sure he’s earned a picture of my bedroom activities. But he cuts me off with a kiss that steals the breath from my lungs. It’s not gentle—nothing with Matteo ever is.
His tongue pushes past my lips, exploring my mouth with a deliberate precision that makes my knees weaken. And I respond by clutching his shoulders while pressing my body against his like I’m trying to climb inside him.
His hand slides down to grab my ass, kneading the flesh through my skirt as he grinds his cock against me. Even through layers of clothing, I can feel how hard he is, how much he wants me despite his refusal to come inside.
“Fuck, Matteo,” I gasp against his mouth, rocking my hips to increase the friction.
He pulls back suddenly, leaving me panting and unfulfilled. A predatory smile that spreads across his face makes my stomach clench with both desire and apprehension.
“Night, Raven,” he murmurs, thumb brushing across my swollen bottom lip. “Sweet dreams.”
“You’re really just going to leave me like this?” I hiss, gesturing at my flushed state.
He steps back, adjusting his suit jacket to hide his erection. “Does it help if I tell you I’m not happy about it?” I narrow my eyes, not sure I believe him. “Do you doubt I want you, Little Thief?” he croons.
“No,” I reply truthfully. “I guess I’m just wondering how much, since you’re the one getting ready to walk away.”
His pupils dilate, jaw clenching. “I want you, Raven. But duty calls, and I can’t ignore it. Not even for you.” The way he says it makes it clear he’s telling the truth.
“Okay.” I nod. “I believe you.” Then another thought hits me. “You’re not going to get anyone else to help you, right?” I gesture at his hardness as I ask the question.
For a moment, he looks shocked, and I mentally preen at the fact I’ve caught him off guard. Then he schools his features. “Why? Would that be a problem for you?”
“Yes,” I snip. “Very much so. I don’t fucking share, Matteo. So as long as you’re with me, you better not kiss or touch anyone else.”
The smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth is unfair. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he rasps. “And just for the record, I don’t share either. Keep that in mind.”
I unlock my door and push it open, pausing on the threshold to throw a smoldering look over my shoulder. “Good to know. Have fun with your hand.”
Before stepping inside, I blow him a kiss, then turn and shake my ass deliberately, my dress riding up just enough to give him a peek at what he’s missing. His sharp intake of breath is all the confirmation I need that my little display hit its mark.
Game on, Matteo. Game fucking on.
The lock clicks into place, and I lean against the door, cursing him with every filthy word in my vocabulary. My body is on fire, every nerve ending raw and aching for release.
“Psychotic asshole,” I mutter, already kicking off my heels and heading straight for my bedroom. “Getting me this horny every night and just bailing. That’s just fucking rude.”
He wants a picture? Pfft. I’ll give him a performance he’ll never forget. Wait… yes, that’s exactly what I’ll do. I walk back into the living room and grab my laptop.
On my way to my bedroom, I text him and ask for his email. He replies while I set up my laptop on the nightstand, angling it just right.
Once the device is fired up, I open the streaming app I’ve used once or twice in the past. Basically, it’s like a livestream that can only be accessed via invite. Then I hit start and email Matteo the invite link.
I wait until the app pings, telling me matteo@ has joined.
“You like watching, Matteo?” I purr, looking directly at the camera.
Pushing my dress down, I let it drop to the floor with a soft thud. My bra and thong follow. I take my time peeling the latter down over my hips and thighs until I can step out of the fabric.
Completely naked, I crawl onto the bed, moving the laptop to the foot of the mattress so he won’t lose a second of my performance.
The sheets feel cool against my overheated skin, and I bite my lip at the sensation. My pierced nipples tighten into hard peaks, partly from the air, partly from knowing he’s watching.
My fingers trail between my breasts, across my stomach, down to the throbbing heat between my thighs. I’m so wet that my first touch makes me gasp, my back arching off the mattress.
I circle my clit slowly, teasingly, but it’s not enough—not after the night I’ve had, not with the memory of Matteo’s hard body grinding against mine still fresh in my mind.
Knowing I need help, I reach for the nightstand drawer, pulling it open and extracting my trusted vibrator. A good friend on lonely nights.
But tonight, as I slide it between my legs, circling my entrance with the tip, I already know it won’t be enough. I’m slick and ready, my body practically begging for release, but my mind keeps conjuring images of Matteo.
Of his scarred face, his tattooed body, the way his hands felt gripping my waist earlier tonight. I push the toy inside me, closing my eyes and arching my back, trying to lose myself in the sensation.
“I wish you’d come inside,” I moan.
This isn’t enough.
Frustrated, I try different angles, speeds, depths. I thrust it deeper, faster, letting my free hand wander to my clit, circling the sensitive bud with practiced fingers. Though it feels good, it’s muted—a shadow of what I need.