Chapter 22
Matteo
This woman. Was she put on this earth purely to torment me?
Watching the video footage of her dancing around in those skimpy little pajamas was already taunting me. Reminding me of all the things I could no longer have. My freshly worked muscles were beyond tense, wanting to demand she pack her things and run away with me. Then, she opened the drapes, and I about lost my mind.
Did she need to advertise that she was a sexy sitting duck? All alone in our house. Would they delay her abduction and eventual destruction to first take a bite?
I’m the son of a crime boss. Have spent my life surrounded by terror and violence.
Yet, this woman is literally going to be the death of me.
This is so wrong. To take advantage of her in this way. I’m no closer to finding a solution to our problems. No closer to finding a way to tell her the truth without risking her giving up everything she’s worked for to run away with me. And what’s more… I still wouldn’t be able to guarantee her safety.
I don’t understand why she’s letting me kiss her. She doesn’t even try to push me away. God, what I’d give to have our life back. Coming home to her each day instead of wandering the world alone. There just doesn’t seem to be a way out. If there was, I swear I’d never do anything to fuck this up again.
Lifting her up, I carry her to the bedroom, but stop at the doorway. Placing her back on her feet, I swiftly move to close all the remaining open drapes, muttering about her carelessness under my breath. Why does she make it impossible to keep her safe?
Once I return to her, she lifts her arms as if welcoming what’s to come. Am I fucking high right now? Where’s the sassy brat from before?
Lowering her to the edge of the bed, I begin to kneel before her, but my pockets are full of those damn fireball candies. They hadn’t irritated me before, but my dick is so hard they’re causing an aggravating friction.
Taking out my wallet as a diversion, I remove a few of the plastic wrapped candies from my pocket. Placing them on the nightstand, I quickly drop down between her legs. Sydney must notice the little round red treats by her pinched expression, but I manage to pull her tiny shorts to the side and distract her with my tongue.
Oh, the taste of her, the perfect mix of musky and sweet. All of the memories come flooding back as if I never left. Her beauty, her openness. Only one woman on the planet could’ve tempted me to turn my back on reason. To marry her, knowing the risk. Yet there’s never been any doubt this woman was created just for me. I was so grateful to have found her; I didn’t have the will to stay away.
Pausing long enough to remove her shorts before my tongue returns to caressing her soft flesh, I zero in on her swollen clit with the tip of my tongue as my finger dips inside. I crave the taste of her more than any alcohol. Her moans of pleasure make my dick harder still. But this isn’t about me. Sure, I want her. I’d give anything to be buried inside her again. Feeling her rippling around me. Yet I know I have to be careful here.
Sliding two fingers in and out of her warm center, I continue to torment her clit and revel in her whimpers. Her hands are pulling at my hair, the familiar scrape of her nails against my scalp making me insane with lust.
Leaning back, I watch her chest heave in her tiny camisole. My mind rewinds to visions of her lying here on our bed, applying lotion with a vibrator by her side. I knew I’d never withstand watching her use it without snapping and coming here. But now…
Reaching over, I slide open the nightstand drawer and retrieve the toy. She’s so deliciously wet, there’s no need for lube. I rub the tip around her center, everywhere but her opening, and she stills. Once I turn the toy on and it begins to vibrate, she instantly pushes up on her elbows.
“How did you know I had that?” Her eyes are narrow slits, accusatory.
Play this one carefully, Matteo. “I only assumed you’d have one, since I’m not here to take proper care of you.” I return my tongue to her clit as I advance the vibrating silicone inside her. This seems to work, as she flops back down, and all intelligible conversation ceases. Well, anything besides, “Oh, god.” “Yes.” “More.” “Please, Tey! Please.”
I’m in heaven. I know it’s short-lived, but I’ll take whatever she’ll give me. There are times it sounds as if she wants me to fuck her, but that would be beyond unacceptable. I’m not allowing myself to make love to my wife again until I have a clear plan forward. Hell, this is bad enough. But I’m bound and determined to make this right with her. I’m going to find a way to keep her safe so we can be together. It’s the only thing keeping me going.
Because I can’t live without her.
Withdrawing the toy, I run it over her clit and watch her squirm. The sight of her like this is more than I can bear. Unzipping my pants with my free hand, I withdraw my aching cock. I’m so fucking hard, my dick looks angry. I give it a few strokes, precum dripping from the tip.
Dropping my head back down to her pussy, I place the tip of the vibrator at her back entrance as I alternate dipping my tongue inside her wet heat and lapping at her clit. This has the desired effect, as she starts shouting familiar indecipherable chants into the air.
At one point, I realize she’s become quiet and glance over to find she’s pushed herself back up, watching me stroke my cock. This almost makes me smile, but I’m too ravenous for that right now.
Sydney has always enjoyed watching me touch myself. I know it. She knows it. Was that why I pulled my dick out? No. I merely needed relief. But am I more turned on having her watch? Hell yes. The sight of her licking her lips as I tug on my needy cock, all while bringing her pleasure… Well, that will play on repeat in my mind each night I’m alone in my bed.
I clamp my mouth over her soft, swollen clit and suck as the toy vibrates against her. She flops back down on the bed. I’ve never pushed my wife for anal play. She’s always been open to a little teasing back there, but I’ve never gone too far. One day, if she’s ready, hell yes. But for now, I’m not inflicting any fear or pain into our sexual encounters.
My treatment of her has been painful enough.
“The only thing better than having you on your knees is seeing what it does to you when you’re down there,” the saucy little minx groans.
I glance up to find her hands digging into the bedsheets as her head rocks back and forth. “Keep talking, principessa. I’ll blow my load in that dirty mouth.”
My words have the desired effect. Her thighs tighten around my face, and I know she’s reached the edge. Which is a good thing, because I’m about to come in my hand. Thrusting two fingers deep in her wet pussy, the vibration of the toy reverberating through her walls, I suck her clit again, and she detonates.
As she screams out her pleasure, I tug on my cock, trying to commit the sounds, scents, and taste to memory. Because after this, it’s all I’ll have.
Unable to hold back any longer, I push to standing, jerking harder on my dick with my right hand as I lean forward and lift her camisole with the other. Stroking myself above her, her ocean blue eyes glassy and unfocused, I let out a grunt of pleasure as I feel electricity travel down my spine. My balls draw up tight, and I tug once more before erupting all over her soft belly.
The sight of her. Her hair is tossed haphazardly over the bed, her pussy still glistening and swollen from her orgasm, and my release branding her pink skin. One thought keeps playing on repeat in my head.
This woman is mine.
I could stand here watching her like this all day, but I’d only get hard again. And I need to clean her up. Moving into the bathroom, I tuck myself back into my pants and find a washcloth. Washing my hands and warming the cloth with water, I grab a towel and return to the bed.
Surprisingly, Sydney hasn’t moved. Is she as in shock by these events as I am? This all happened like a speeding train coming into the station, no ability to stop what followed. What carnage might come from its aftermath? Is she quietly contemplating her grand inquisition?
How had I let this happen? Stupid question. If I thought alcohol had a hold on me, it has nothing on this woman. I need her as much as I need oxygen to breathe. There’s no me without her. If I’m addicted, I don’t ever want to recover.
I clean her up, carefully drying her skin with the white fluffy towel afterward. I’m tempted to kiss her belly before I stand, but don’t want to add to the growing list of questions she might have for me.
What does this mean? Where do we go from here? I don’t have any of the answers she’s looking for. None beyond the fact I love her more than life itself.
My mind is still reeling with concerns over how this will play out when Sydney is suddenly up and sliding her little pajama pants back on. She reaches for my hand and, for a moment, I entertain the thought of us showering together. Or is she moving us to the other room to talk?
But instead, she’s wordlessly escorting me to the front door.
“Syd—”
“No. Don’t Syd me.”
“Hell, but we just…”
“Yes. And I thank you for that. It hit the spot.”
What the fuck?
Did I hear that right? That wasn’t even on the radar of things I expected to fly out of her impudent mouth. I’m so taken aback, I start getting a little emotional. Defensive even. I cross my arms over my chest. “There was a time when I meant something to you.”
What am I doing? I should be grateful to make an escape without having to find answers where there are none. But no. I’ve turned into a simpering teenage girl at a party, begging her boyfriend not to dismiss her. All I need now is a kegger and some bad nineties music.
“You’re right. That was before you ripped my heart out. Before I figured out your version of forever was a lie.”
I step back at her words as if I’ve been slapped. How had this night gone so wrong? Who went from mind blowing orgasms to this? “What do you want me to do?” What are you saying, Matteo? You’re in no position to make any new promises to her. None that would fare any better than the ones you made on your wedding day. But I can’t walk away and leave things like this.
“The way I see it, you have some major ass kissing to do.” The little brat mimics my stance, crossing her arms over her chest. The pressure causes her sweet breasts to swell over the lacy top of her camisole, and I lick my lips. God, I’ve missed those two. I should’ve suckled on those before I was done tonight.
“I want the whole package.” She huffs, lifting her nose in the air.
I move a bit closer, reaching for her hips, a smirk lifting the corner of my mouth. “Good. I like kissing your ass.”
She bats my hands away. “Not that kind.”
“Fine. If that’s what it takes.” I need to leave before this gets any more complicated. At least it wasn’t a goodbye fuck. Well, we didn’t… a goodbye orgasm, maybe?
With a curt nod, I retreat to my car. But I know it’ll take far more than kissing her ass to win her back. And it should after all I’ve done.
But nothing has changed. The threats are still there. If anything, they’re more concrete than ever. Other than realizing my weakness when it comes to her, what makes me think it’s smart to risk this again?
Because the more I’m around Sydney, the bigger the target on her back.