Chapter 10 Matteo #3
"Good." Stefan pushed back harder. Meeting me thrust for thrust. "Let them know. Let everyone know I'm yours."
The words shattered what was left of my control.
I fucked him harder. Faster. One hand wrapped around him, stroking in time with my thrusts. The other gripped his hip, holding him exactly where I wanted him.
"Mine," I growled. "Say it."
"Yours." His voice broke. "All yours. Only yours."
"That's right. Mine to protect. Mine to keep. Mine to fuck until you forget your own name."
He was trembling. Getting close. I could feel it in the way his body tensed. Hear it in his desperate sounds.
"Matteo—I'm going to—please—"
"Come for me." I thrust harder. Deeper. "Let go. Show me you're mine."
Stefan shattered with a cry that was my name and a prayer all at once. His body clenched around me, milking my cock. I felt him pulse in my hand as he came.
The sight and sound and feel of him falling apart destroyed what was left of my control. I drove deep and came hard, filling him. Claiming him in the most primal way possible.
We collapsed together. Both breathing hard. Both overwhelmed.
I pulled out carefully and turned Stefan over. Needed to see his face. Needed to make sure he was okay. That I hadn't been too rough or too possessive or too much.
His green eyes were glazed. Satisfied. Happy in a way I'd never seen before.
"That was..." He trailed off. Laughed breathlessly. "Intense."
"Too much?"
"No." He pulled me down for a kiss. "Perfect. Exactly what I needed."
But I saw something flicker across his face. Something complicated.
"What is it?" I asked.
"I loved it," he admitted. "When you were saying I was yours. When you were claiming me like that. I loved every second of it." He paused. "Should that worry me? That I love being claimed? Being possessed? Being told I belong to someone?"
It was a good question. One I'd asked myself about my own possessiveness.
"I don't know," I said honestly. "Maybe it should.
Maybe we're both fucked up in ways that make this work.
" I brushed his hair back from his face.
"But I don't care. I want you. Want to claim you.
Want everyone to know you're mine. And if that makes me possessive and obsessive and probably unhealthy, so be it. "
"And I want to be claimed," Stefan said quietly. "Want to belong to you. Want to feel like I matter enough for someone to fight for me. To protect me. To tell the world I'm theirs." He met my eyes. "Even though I know that's probably not healthy either."
"We're a mess," I observed.
"A complete disaster," he agreed.
"But we're figuring it out."
"Yeah." He kissed me softly. "We are."
I cleaned us both up with a warm washcloth. Stefan protested weakly but let me take care of him. Afterwards, I pulled him close. His head resting on my chest. My arms wrapped around him protectively.
"Matteo?" His voice was quiet.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For tonight. For claiming me publicly.
For making me feel like I belong somewhere.
" He paused. "I know it's complicated. I know I'm probably developing unhealthy attachment patterns or Stockholm syndrome or whatever psychologists would call this.
But I'm choosing it anyway. Choosing you. "
"I know." I held him tighter. "And I'm choosing you too. Every day. Every moment. Whatever comes next."
We lay like that for a long time. The adrenaline from the club fading. The intensity of sex giving way to quiet intimacy.
Stefan's breathing gradually slowed. His body relaxed completely against mine.
"I never thought I'd feel safe with someone like you," he murmured, half-asleep already. "Someone dangerous. Someone who kidnapped me. Someone who's everything I should run from."
"And yet here you are."
"Here I am." His arms tightened around me. "Choosing the dangerous man. Choosing to be claimed. Choosing to stay even though it's probably insane."
"Probably," I agreed.
"I don't regret it though." His voice was barely a whisper now. "Any of it. Even the parts that scare me."
"Good. Because I'm not letting you go."
"I know. That should terrify me."
"But it doesn't?"
"No." He pressed his face against my chest. "It makes me feel wanted. And I've never felt that before. Not really. Not like this."
My chest felt tight.
Stefan had spent his whole life being used. Being treated like property. Being valued only for his appearance and utility to others.
And now he was with me—someone who'd literally kidnapped him. Someone possessive and obsessive and probably unhealthy in a dozen different ways.
But I'd also given him something no one else had. Choice. Agency. The ability to leave if he wanted to. And the certainty that if he stayed, I'd protect him with everything I had.
Maybe that made this less fucked up. Or maybe it just made it differently fucked up.
Either way, Stefan was mine. And I was his.
And we'd figure out the rest together.
I'd claimed Stefan Romano publicly. Made him mine in front of witnesses. Ensured that every family in New York would know by tomorrow that Giuseppe's son had chosen his enemies.
It would have consequences. Giuseppe would retaliate somehow. The other families would make judgments. The FBI might get interested in why Stefan had disappeared only to reappear with the Vitales.
But I didn't care.
Stefan was worth it. Worth the complications. Worth the wars. Worth every consequence that came from claiming him.
I pulled him closer and closed my eyes.
Tomorrow we'd deal with reality. With Giuseppe and the FBI and the trial and every other problem waiting for us.
But tonight, Stefan was safe in my arms. Sated and mine.
"Matteo?" His voice was quiet.
"Yeah?"
"Am I making a mistake? Letting you claim me like this? Letting you define who I am to the world?"
I was quiet for a moment. Choosing my words carefully.
"I don't know," I admitted. "Maybe. This might be the worst decision you've ever made. Or it might be the start of figuring out who you actually are." I held him tighter. "But it's your mistake to make. Your decision. Your choice. And I'll be here either way."
"Even if I decide this was wrong? That I need something different?"
"Even then." The promise felt important. Essential. "I want you here, Stefan. But I want you to choose it every day. Not just accept it because you have nowhere else to go or because I claimed you publicly or because you're scared of being alone."
He was quiet for a long time. Then: "I'm choosing it. Right now, in this moment, I'm choosing you. Choosing this. I don't know if that'll still be true tomorrow or next week or next month. But right now, it's what I want."
"Then that's enough."
We fell asleep tangled together. The door unlocked. Stefan publicly claimed as mine. Our futures uncertain but facing them together.
It was fucked up and complicated and probably a disaster waiting to happen.
But it was real.