Chapter 18 Matteo #2
A burst of anger rockets through me and I toss her bracelet back in the drawer before slamming it shut.
No matter what I do, the money, the intel, the threats and killing — answers are always out of my grasp.
I thought bringing Fallon here would bring us a step closer, speed up this process, but all she’s done is mess with my head and unlocked a torrent of fears I thought I’d laid to rest long ago.
I run a hand through my hair and flop back on the bed.
There’s no way I’m sleeping anytime soon, not with my head in this space.
I flip through my emails, check the stock market, and even make a few notes for myself on another invention I’ve been considering lately to distract myself.
But after an hour, temptation wins out, just like it has every night, and I pull up the cameras on my phone, going straight to the live feed of Fallon’s room.
My eyes narrow on the empty bed.
Where the hell is she?
Fallon
What could be worse than having a sex dream about your three kidnappers? Waking up after having a sex dream about your three kidnappers, horny as hell, and with no way to release that… tension.
With the camera in my room and Akio’s penchant for watching, I’m on a self-pleasure strike. Let’s call it my body’s punishment for wanting to jump their bones so badly I’m dreaming about it. It’s almost like my body didn’t get the memo that we don’t fuck toxic men.
What happened today doesn’t help matters either.
After last night at the warehouse, I think my body finally had enough trauma over the past few weeks and decided to rebel with a massive migraine.
It was so bad that at one point Dec I’m-allergic-to-smiling Huxley actually made a joke and I didn’t notice because I was so focused on keeping my brain matter inside my head.
Both he and Akio forced me upstairs to rest after that, shoving medicine down my throat and making me drink at least two cups of water while they watched.
It was weird being fussed over by the same monsters that had tortured me, but also, strangely… nice?
They’re starting to mess with my head. That’s the only reasonable explanation for why I’m having such intense dreams about them. Although, I admit sleeping all day has its perks. Like getting to roam the house at night like a free woman.
I swallow back my evil laugh as I slink through the dark hallway and up the flight of stairs to the fourth floor.
It’s the only level I haven’t been to yet, and I’m curious as to what they’re hiding up there.
Bodies? A sex dungeon? Matteo’s personality?
Whatever it is, I just hope it takes my mind off of this restless energy pumping through me.
At the top of the stairs, I’m greeted by wide double doors. Without wanting to draw attention to myself if any of the guys are awake, I push them open as quietly as possible.
“No fucking way,” I breathe, stepping inside the massive room lined with shelves stuffed with books from floor to ceiling. I must be living in my own fucked up fairytale because this is the dark academia library of my dreams.
Rich, soothing shades of black and deep green decorate the room, with dark wood paneling covering the walls.
Soft lighting emanates from gold sconces strategically placed to cast a gentle glow over the vintage writing tables lining the spaces between each shelf.
There's a black marble fireplace dominating one wall, and in front of it sits a plush, oversized velvet forest green couch covered in throw pillows, next to a leather wing-backed chair. It’s a mix of elegance and comfort and dark and moody and it’s perfect.
Just what I need to get my mind off these weird and unwanted feelings I’ve been having for the guys.
Taking my time, I explore their collection, shuffling down one row of books to the next.
I notice a section displaying old relics on the shelves, and in the middle is an ancient Egyptian Anubis mask.
It wouldn’t surprise me if they paid a pretty penny for it, for all the priceless collection items they have proudly displayed here.
But that mask… it makes me think about the first time I saw the three masks that have dominated my mind for a while now.
I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my heart race and my thighs slick with arousal when they donned those masks in the club, or even when they were chasing me through Helix Enterprises.
Even though I’ve seen their faces, a part of me wouldn’t mind them throwing those masks on and recreating those memories again.
Shaking my head, I clear away the thought. Since when do I have a mask kink?
I continue down each aisle, looking for a book to read.
Regrettably there aren’t any of my preferred fantasy romances, but I find a shelf in the far back with some old classics.
I pull the worn hardback copy of The Count of Monte Cristo from the stack and sprawl out on the couch, sinking into the massive cushions with a sigh of content.
I’m not sure how long I read, but I’m just getting to Edmond Dantés' downfall when a deep voice startles me. “What the fuck are you doing out of your room?”
I yelp, the book tumbling into my lap as I hastily scramble into a sitting position. My eyes fixate on Matteo’s dark figure in the doorway. “Fuck. You scared me.” His glare pierces straight through me. “What?”
He stomps into the room, and my eyes dip down his body.
He’s shirtless, with his bronze muscles out on display.
Gray sweatpants hanging low and loose off his hips, accentuating the twin lines angling toward his groin.
I snap my attention back to his face. “How the fuck did you get out of your room?”
“Nobody locked me in, dickface.”
He towers over me, shadows dancing across his features. “Get back to your room. Now.”
“No.” I scowl up at him.
“Excuse me? Do you not remember the rules I set for you when we made our deal?”
“I remember, Funshine. But I’m not trying to escape and it’s not my fault nobody locked my door before you guys went to bed. I’m not doing anything but reading.” I wave the book in front of his face.
His hand snaps out, yanking the book from me and tossing it over his shoulder. “Does it look like I care? I told you to stay in your room at night, not sneak around my house half naked.”
“Half naked?” I balk at him, not missing the way his gaze heats as he frowns down at my bare legs and the way my shirt is bunched up around my waist, showing off an inch of skin above my lace panties. “If you remember, you’ve seen me in way less than this.”
Matteo’s frown deepens, and he grips my upper arm tightly.
“What are you trying to do? Seduce one of us into letting you go free by walking around like this? Well, let me tell you, you little menace,” he hisses in my face.
“Not fucking happening. Your plan isn’t working, so get used to being stuck here until I say otherwise. ”
I rip my arm out of his grasp, ready to jump down his throat about what a fucking asshole he’s being, but my attention lingers on what he just said.
My eyes narrow, noticing how his chest pumps up and down with his heavy breaths, how his eyes keep darting down to my lace covered pussy before forcing himself to look at my face again.
I think Mr. Stick Up His Ass hates how much he’s enjoying the view.
A devilish smirk pulls at my lips as I stretch out along the couch and make a show of arching my back. “Are you sure it’s not working? You seem a little flushed, Funshine.”
He braces a hand against the back of the couch and leans over me, seething. “Get up.”
“Get up?” I quirk a brow, then slowly drag a hand down the middle of my breasts, stopping to twirl a finger over the band of my panties. “Or get off?”
A muscle feathers in his jaw as my fingers dip under the band and stay there. With every second he grows stiffer with annoyance, my bravado soars.
“Nothing to say?” I tease. “All bark and no bite, baby?”
Matteo’s gaze rises and holds mine, full of a fierce determination that has me staying my hand. He wets his lips. “Do it.”
My confidence wavers. “Do… what?”
He nods his head at the hand on my pussy. “You want to tempt me? Go ahead, baby. Show me what I’m missing.”
He’s calling my bluff.
I grind my teeth, refusing to back down. “Fine.”
“Fine.”
Matteo doesn’t move. “You’re going to just… stay there?” I raise my brows at his arm still braced against the back of the couch, his body hovering over mine.
“Seems like the best place for a show.”
Right. He doesn’t think I’ll do it. Little does he know, I don’t back down from a challenge.
Eyes on him, I sink my hand further beneath the lace until my fingers lightly brush against the wetness waiting there and–
“Wait.” Well, that was easy. A victorious smile creeps across my face, but then he adds, “Take off your panties.”
My smile dies instantly. “Why?”
“You want to tempt me, Menace? Then show me that greedy little pussy.”
My lips part in both shock and arousal. Holy fucking shit. I did not wake up today thinking I’d be playing masturbation chicken with Matteo, but here we are.
When I don’t move after several beats, I catch the flash of smug satisfaction on his stupidly gorgeous face. Oh, hell no.
I grip my panties and lift my hips, sliding the fabric down my thighs and dropping them to the floor, baring myself to him. His wide-eyed gaze rips away from mine to stare.
“Fuck.”
The way he breathes the word has my nipples pebbling against the fabric of my shirt, my heart racing. “Still not tempted, Funshine?”
“Not even a little bit,” he croaks while his attention remains on my bare pussy. “But it looks like I was right.”
“Right about what?”
“You’re glistening. So wet for me already and you haven’t even really touched yourself yet.” He looks at me, his eyes darkening. “Like I said, greedy.”
“Not for you,” I lie.
“No?”