Chapter 50
50
Layne
I thought we would escape quickly, but when people see Matteo and me leaving, they step forward to offer both their congratulations and their respect. No one approaches to shake my hand, given the dogs keep snarling at anyone who approaches, but the people also divert to Matteo.
Matteo is as patient as he can be as we keep trying for the exit, but there comes a point where he snaps. He offers a quick apology to those wanting to shake his hand before he presses his hand on my lower back, and the two of us pick up our pace.
The doors to the foyer swing open at long last, and I get slammed by a gust of excitement as Matteo and I race through them. My feet get overly anxious and nearly slip out when he pulls me to a stop by the back of my dress as the doors close behind us.
“Matteo!” I squeal, flailing around to see what the issue is.
But his mouth is on mine, his eyes pooling with relief and bubbling with lust, making the brown deeper in color.
When we crash into one of the columns holding a vase of flowers, he doesn’t stop kissing me, but his eyes follow the vase as it goes to topple off the stand. He catches it with one hand, making me laugh at his reflexes.
My gorgeous Beta takes complete control and whirls us effortlessly around the other columns and photo frames, almost like we’re waltzing, before steering us to a dark corner of the foyer. He holds my face in his hands. “I so want to sink my perfect dick inside your wet heat right here. But I am covered in revenge, which incidentally feels incredible. I’m taking you home, we’re showering separately, and then I am taking my woman out on a date before I find somewhere safe, but out in the open, to take you so hard and fast, we’ll both be dizzy.”
My smile makes it impossible to hide the sudden onslaught of giddy agreement bubbling through my veins like expensive champagne. He shakes his head, pretending he’s being serious still. “You are such a deviant.”
We both laugh at how wrong, and right, the statement is.
As he sweeps his arm toward the door, we step off in synchronicity, like we always do.
The front of the estate looks different, but it’s not the actual property; it’s the guards and the general mood. It’s easy to see there has been a change of staff while we’ve been inside. Matteo greets them like they’re old friends.
He talks to a couple—a man and a woman—asking for an update on the security as we walk to the Escalade. Once we get there, he gives them a dismissive wave, turning all his focus to me. He opens the door for the dogs before opening mine.
We have so much to say, but we don’t end up talking. I think it’s because we’re both lacking in control, and if either of us offers even a flimsy excuse, Matteo’s plans for our night will fly out the window.
As we approach De Luca tower, it’s easy to see I misjudged how many people they have in their tight circle, but also how I thought everyone who was anyone was at our wedding dinner. They’re clearly not. The security as we get around the final turn into the garage is even more evident.
Matteo slows at the entrance, where a group of guards block the ramp, even though the roller door to the garage is down. But when they see it’s him, they step away.
He slows enough to speak to the head guard. “We’ll be heading out again soon. Any issues?”
“None, sir.”
“Good. Dante and Valentine are still there.”
“We heard it went off without a hitch.”
“You heard right.”
Matteo drives off, and the happiness on his face makes my chest squeeze. He parks where we usually do, and I beat him to let the dogs out this time. Surprisingly, I only get a small rumble of warning about getting out before he’s confirmed it’s safe. But the both of us know we’re probably the safest either of us has been for a long time.
In the elevator up to the apartment, I talk puppy business with the dogs, promising them a long play in the park tomorrow, and Matteo leaves me with a stern look, which I interpret to mean don’t be long .
“Any clues on where we’re going, Matteo, so I know what to wear?” I giggle as he gets caught up in his anticipation. I’m not sure he’s even realized he’s running off to his room before the elevator doors have even closed behind me.
“A skirt. No panties. No bra. Maybe a top, so I don’t have to murder anyone looking at you.”
Before I’ve even reached my bedroom, I hear his shower start. Grabbing a couple of options for what I want to wear, I drop my clothes on Dante’s bed and retrace my steps to the kitchen to feed and water the dogs as fast as humanly possible, because I am exactly like Matteo, so hot and ready for our date.
I turn on the television for the dogs, to keep them company while we’re out, then move their beds in front of the television. They’ve earned a night of luxury after being so protective of me tonight.
Leaving the dogs looking at me like I’ve lost my brain, I start undressing on my way to Dante’s bathroom. The draw of being in his space is what is driving my urge, and since the De Lucas keep telling me to trust myself more, I luxuriate in the moment, instead of giving in to the question of whether I should be here.
My poor dress is covered in bloody handprints, but there is no way I’m throwing it out. It’s the best souvenir I’ve ever had, and I’m thinking of getting it framed. Thinking of souvenirs, I leave one for Dante—my panties on his pillow.
Showering, then fixing my makeup in record time, I’m racing out of Dante’s bedroom in a long, flowing skirt and tight bandeau top as Matteo is walking back from my room, where he’d obviously been looking for me.
His eyes flare. “Jesus, Layne. I’m supposed to be taking you on a date first.”
“You like?”
He scowls one moment, and the next, he’s being overly bossy. “Get your ass downstairs and in my car, right this second.”
“Yes, sir!” I say, licking my lips intentionally while sticking my tits out. I’m doing him a favor, since he can’t seem to take his eyes off them.
“Layne,” he growls as the elevator doors open, but I’m already inside and pouncing on him. My hand cups him over his jeans, and his cock is rock hard.
“Let me take the edge off,” I suggest, stroking him.
“No,” he hisses.
I whine under my breath and wrap my hand tighter around his length as he rocks into my hand.
“Why?”
He groans softly, dropping his hand over mine and squeezing harder. “Because I want to blow inside you.”
“But it would be inside my mouth.”
“Layne, please, I have this…”
I take an obvious step away from him, holding his confused gaze with a seriousness that wasn’t there a second ago. “I wasn’t trying to pressure you, and I hope I didn’t come across that way, Matteo. It’s not an excuse, and I’m sorry I was being pushy. But being around you, it’s like I become a different person—an addict, almost. I see you, and I’m a mess with this insatiable hunger for more and more. The only thing that helps is to touch you.”
The smile on his face gets bigger. Brighter, if that’s at all possible. “You know why?”
Matteo flips our dynamics on its head, backing me into the corner, lifting my skirt and cupping my sex with his hand. “Because you’re falling for me, as hard and as fast as I have for you. Trust me, Layne. Any other time, I would let you sink to your knees, and I’d watch you suck and lick my cock until I erupted in pleasure inside your mouth. Tonight, though, I need that to happen out there.” He flicks his chin, his words and tone slow and relaxed, despite the way he rubs his fingers over my bare pussy. “We never get the night to ourselves. And, fuck, I have this fantasy of you that will not let up. So, yes, I fucking gloat when you offer to take the edge off, and I’ll forever say yes, but tonight has to happen my way.” I tip my hips slightly, and his finger dips inside. “Let me love you right.”
“You do already.”
“I do, don’t I?” He winks at me, then his head tips to the side, like he’s just realized something. He buries his hand under my skirt until his fingers are rubbing over me again. “You didn’t want to wear panties?”
“You told me not to.” I whine, the noise coming from the back of my throat as he rubs his thumb over my clit.
The elevator doors open, and he walks me to his CT5-V Blackwing with his fingers still buried deep in my pussy. The smile on his face, the galaxy of stars in his eyes, has me whimpering like I’m about to come.
“We’re not rushing tonight,” he soothes, fumbling with the door, so I can sink down into the passenger seat, but it’s hard to do with him fingering me. Still, the incentive means I find a way to manage.
Matteo spreads my legs apart and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Let me see if Val or Dante are free.”
The phone rings once, and it picks up. He holds the phone up at the same time as he uses his finger and his thumb to split my saturated lips apart. The sticky noise should be offensive, but given how Matteo and Valentine whisper their illicit praises, I’m pretty sure I don’t need to be self-conscious of the sound, nor of the way I can feel my opening pulsing in need.
“Jesus, wife, you’re superb in all your longing. And fuck you, Matteo,” Valentine snaps. “Send me a photo after you’ve satisfied my beautiful cunt.”
The phone hangs up, and Matteo dips down really low to suck on my clit. His mouth is heavenly, and I was already so wound up, it literally takes a couple of hard swipes of his tongue, and I’m moaning under my breath. He licks the sexual tension I’ve been struggling with away. Kind of.
“You feel so good when you come on my tongue. But that’s it. No more orgasms until I say.”
He straightens, and being the gentleman he is, helps me get settled and facing the front before closing the door. As he walks around his side of the car, he keeps his eyes on me, and I get one of his filthy, dirty smirks. His lips are glistening as much as his eyes are glittering.
He keeps winding me up. Knowingly. Skillfully. And even though he just licked me to orgasm, I’m trembling again, pining for more.
Matteo starts his car. And, goddamn, I loved this car before, but now I love it harder. The thunder-like vibrations of the CT5-V Blackwing’s 668 horsepower engine, vibrating through my seat right up and through my pussy, makes my fading pleasure reignite and simmer. He revs the car, and again, and I have to cross my legs and dig my nails into my palms in a desperate attempt to tamp down my lust. I turn and glare at him.
He looks so innocent. “Sorry.” He most definitely is not.
I unhook my legs and wiggle my skirt up over my hips before rolling my hips in a circle and messing up the leather. “It’s all good.”
He barks out a laugh as he drops the clutch, and we go flying out of the garage and into the night.
Matteo makes a couple of phone calls, and it gives me the chance to open the window and let the cool night air clear my senses. He was right before. I’m in so deep, but the big difference is, now I’m not fighting our connection. I’m still scared shitless, but isn’t that what falling in love is all about? Especially when you’ve been hurt and on your own for so long.
For dinner, he surprises me, taking us to a small, outdoor Spanish-style restaurant on the opposite side of the river from Styke. I can actually see the lights of Jana’s restaurant in the distance, but it’s not what I focus on. I focus all my attention on the incredible man in front of me.
“Can I order for you? Feed you?” he asks as soon as we sit.
The restaurant is busy, considering how late it is, but I like the post-dinner rush vibe.
“Of course,” I say quietly.
He orders a couple of dishes for us to share, along with a bottle of wine. He plays with my hair, not talking too much, but we spend the time making a hundred plans for our future as we stare deeply into each other’s eyes.
I wish I could say I remember what we ate. I don’t at all. But I remember his unwavering attention, each time he offered me something off his plate. We share our undeniable connection with lots of stolen, gentle kisses in between him feeding me.
“Dessert?” He winks as he appears in front of me after paying the bill, holding his hand out in invitation. His eyes are full of heated promises.
Keeping our fingers interlaced, he drapes a jacket over my shoulders before he walks us down along the water's edge.
Though the crowd is waning, we’re not alone as we walk farther until he finds a chair facing the water. I think we’re going to sit there, but he chuckles, flicking his eyebrows up as he walks backward, leading me to the restored bandstand. The lights are off, but the streetlights around us are enough to see how old, but beautiful, the burnished red wrought-iron filigree is around each of the columns, holding up the tiled roof. It’s so freaking romantic.
“In summer, they have live bands playing here, but tonight, we’re going to make our own music,” he says, his voice dipping low, keeping our time special and intimate.
I roll my eyes, teasing him. “Incredibly corny, Mr. De Luca.”
“Says you, but interestingly, you’re walking faster, your scent is blossoming harder, and your eyes are dilating.”
“Yeah, well, if you remember, I didn’t say no to making music with you, either.”
“Truth.” He spins me again, like he did when we got away from dinner.
The whole time he’s dancing around the edge of the raised bandstand stage, his focus extends farther away than just me. But I know he’s just triple-checking we’re safe. When he looks back at me, his eyes are like the darkest night sky, and he walks me backward until my ass hits the wooden railing that circles the structure.
My legs open, and he steps into the space I made. I fumble with his belt as he dips down and licks his way into my mouth. He sucks on my tongue and pulls my lower lip between his teeth.
“You know you’re safe with me,” he says. I wrap my legs around his waist as my answer. “If this makes you uncomfortable, you tell me.”
“I would,” I promise as I bury my hands inside his jeans and groan when I find him bare. Squeezing his length, I run my hand up and down it while he licks the palm of his hand and wets his fingers.
“Unnecessary, I promise. I’m so wet for you.” I whimper as he pushes his mouth to mine, licking his subtle vanilla taste over my tongue. In the blink of an eye, he’s rubbing the head of his cock over my entrance.
“Layne, you’re not wet, you’re soaking.” He grips my hips and slowly pushes inside. “Fucking hell, you feel incredible. Open that pussy for me, I’m going to claim your womb as mine.”
Matteo is thick, and there’s always a slight resistance when we have sex. It’s a beautiful burn that brings a promise of amazing orgasms. He’s cautious, but he was right before—my body is ready for him and has been all night.
He inches farther in, and I nearly fall off the banister when I wiggle impatiently, wanting more. I only manage not to fall by linking my arms over his shoulders, bringing him closer, which is what I wanted, anyway. “You feel so good,” I murmur, licking up his throat, knowing my dirty-talking Beta also loves listening to praise. “Don’t hide what we’re doing, Matteo.”
He breaks the silence by laughing loudly, then he starts to move faster and more obviously. “Fuck, yes,” he groans one moment when he flexes deep inside my pussy, and the next, he’s being obscenely loud in all his pants and moans, making it impossible for anyone walking past to pretend we’re not having sex.
The slap of our skin and the squelch of my pussy each time he rails inside is exactly how good sex sounds. Already, I’m skirting the edge of coming, spurred on by him getting harder with each thrust.
His enjoyment makes his vanilla scent even more potent, and I smell myself perfuming right along with him. When he exhales, I inhale, so when we breathe, the air is infused with our shared sweetness.
“Rub that clit for me,” Matteo demands, tipping his head back and driving in harder.
I get off seeing the stretch of his neck. “Matteo, show me where your claim will sit. Mark my throat.”
Our public lovemaking is frantic and desperate but also tender and full of intimacy. The closeness we share, both physically and spiritually, brings tears to my eyes.
Matteo’s beauty is staggering, and the look on his face, the way his eyes are dipped in pleasure, is something I will need for the rest of my days. Daily, if possible.
“You blow my mind,” he whispers.
And then he comes. I was already there with him, but my orgasm doubles, or maybe it triples—either way, it’s mind-blowing and rolls on and on.
But Matteo isn’t done. He is such an unselfish lover.
“Again,” he demands quietly. Purposely, he slows his movements to continue stimulating my oversensitive body. He uses every glorious inch and veiny ridge, teasing me to the cusp of another release.
He trails small kisses up the column of my neck until his mouth is on the shell of my ear, and then he works my pleasure aurally until he feels my gentler, but sublime, orgasm wash over me.
“More of that. I want more. Until I die,” he whispers, peppering kisses all over my face.
We get interrupted by a “yee-haw” from a passing couple, but Matteo is more focused on my yee-haw as I squeeze around his length, succumbing to his loving.