Chapter 18 – Three Months Later #2
With a palm against his chest, I push him onto the mattress, my body weaved around his, like a puzzle that fits just right.
“Aida,” he grunts, his cock thick and heavy, straining against my core. “What are you doing?”
My lips are on his neck, dotting him with kisses, the bravery spilling like blood from my veins.
“Fuck,” he hisses through clenched teeth, arching his hips, the pads of his fingers rubbing my scalp. “Your mouth feels damn good.”
I peer up at him, loving him aroused, wanting him so badly. “Touch me?” I ask in a breathy sigh.
“What?” He immediately props himself on his elbows, his brows tugged.
“I want you to touch me,” I say with a heavy pant.
When he looks confused, I grab his wrist and lead his hand between my thighs.
“Aida…” His eyes drift shut for a moment before he stares at me again, like he’s not sure what to do. I know him well enough to see it. “I can’t. I—I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” I press his fingers into me, stroking them against the throbbing there. “Please, Matteo. I need this. I need you to give me that. With them, I never—you know…” My cheeks grow hot. “I want you to be the first to do it. I want that to be my first with you.”
He nods like he understands. “If you’re sure…” He grips the back of my neck, his full lips hovering over my mouth, his gaze fastened to mine.
“I don’t care who knows or who hears. I want this,” I tell him. “I’ve never been surer of anything more, except that I love you. Please, Matteo…” My teeth tug at my bottom lip, that pulsing in my core growing needier. “Make me feel good.”
“Shit,” he groans, his lips lining my jaw, nipping, before he kisses me again, rolling his cock around my achy center.
What I wouldn’t do to feel him inside me. To know what it’s supposed to be like. But that’s been tainted by the men who ruined my life, by a father who never gave a damn.
But this, him giving me an orgasm that I never had before, not even with those men, it’ll be something that’s mine, something they can’t take from me.
Every day I worry that I’ll go back there, and they’ll force it out of me. So I need Matteo to give me this. So I can hold on to it when things get bad, when the nightmares come.
With his hands falling to my hips, he flips me over until I’m underneath, all the muscles of his body pinning me to the bed. I grow deliciously aware of our proximity, the way his large frame overpowers my smaller one.
As he gazes, those heavenly eyes searching my face, it takes everything in me not to cry.
I’m safe. I’m wanted. I’m loved. No one can take that away from me. No one can tear away our bond.
There’s this weight in my heart, this mountainous level of devotion seeping into my soul and all I want is to get lost in it. Lost in him.
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he promises as he looks at me with awe, his voice hoarse and full of aching emotion, like he could barely contain the way he feels.
My mouth parts in a pant as he braces himself on his elbow, his other hand sliding down my arm, my skin tingling from the wake of it. He cradles my knee, his fingers circling there until he nudges it outward, his hand continuing to journey higher, climbing into my inner thigh.
Our eyes can’t seem to part, clinging to one another as his fingers meet my waistband, stilling there. “If something doesn’t feel right, you tell me, okay?”
I nod, nervous butterflies springing to life, mingled with deep desire. His hand slips under my leggings, cupping me there, as a moan flies out of me, arching into him, my nipples suddenly hardening beneath my tank top.
With his index finger, he pulls my panties to the side, and I feel his touch.
Warm.
Masculine.
Like every inch of him is.
The muscles in his bicep ripples, the vein there straining as one finger sinks past my wet lips, running up and then all the way down, like he’s discovering it, remembering.
“Yes…” I cry on a sigh as the pad of his finger meets my clit in a tantalizing touch.
“Is this what you like?” His growl is rough as his teeth rake my jaw, my eyes closing, my hips rocking to the beat of his touch.
“Yes, I—oh God, keep doing that.” My hands bite into his back, gripping tighter, the more he works me. Another finger meets my pulsating flesh, running both of them around my clit, and I wither in sheer ecstasy as his tempo grows more confident.
I open my eyes, drowning in his heavy-lidded gaze.
“You feel damn good,” he whispers. “So wet. You like this, don’t you, my beautiful girl?”
“Yes… I’ve never felt this good.” I groan on a gasp, my nails clawing his skin the faster he rubs me. My body grows hot, my toes curling. A finger enters me as I cry out in a hushed breath. “Kiss me, Matteo. Please.”
“Never have to ask me that.” His mouth crashes over my ravenous one, kissing me roughly, his teeth tugging on my lower lip like he’s never done before, those fingers moving faster, two of them stretching me, filling, thrusting.
And I don’t think about those men, not once, even as they try to fight their way out, to remind me what they took from me.
But I don’t let them. I allow my body to feel the touch of a man who’s been my everything, who’ll always be.
The warmth within me grows until it’s something I can’t explain. It’s too much, yet not enough.
His palm is on the top of my head now, his eyes sultry, starving, as he takes me so deeply, I know it won’t be long. Spreading my thighs wider, I let him go even deeper.
“Matteo!” I cry, my body tingling, coming alive like it’s never been before. As he pumps his fingers into me once more, I fall. It’s foreign and beautiful, and I never want him to stop.
I try to quiet the sounds coming out of me, remembering who’s listening, feeling depraved knowing that, but I don’t seem to care right now.
He kisses me, swallowing up every single moan and gasp of pleasure, his fingers slamming harder as he takes everything that I wanted him to take so long ago.
Slowly, once my tremors still, he slips his fingers out of me, kissing my forehead, his cock still hard. I want to touch him, to make him experience what he just gave me, but I’m too shy to ask.
A lazy smirk turns up as his knuckles stroke down my face. “Wow.” His eyes spill with adulation.
“Yeah.” My lips spread with a smile of my own. “That definitely was.”
He sighs, dropping to his side, tucking me into him, his front to my back. After our breathing slows to a natural pace, we hold each other and talk about his life before, whatever he can remember, so that way he never forgets.
Over the years, I’ve asked him to talk about his family on purpose. It’s the only part of himself he has left before my father and my uncles took it away.
“My brother Dante was always trying to copy Dom,” he tells me with a chuckle. “They were one year apart and Dante hated it. I remember once they were competing over who could carry the most cupcakes and they both dropped them on the floor at the shop.”
“What did your dad do?” I ask, knowing mine would lose it.
“He gave them each a towel and told them to start cleaning. And they did, muttering while Enzo and I ate some of the ones they managed not to ruin, high-fiving each other.”
“Your family sounds amazing.” Melancholy builds in my heart and I instantly hate myself for it. How dare I feel that way when his entire life was stolen.
“They were.” His fingers glide up and down my arm, and a sense of calmness drapes me. I’d give the world to feel this every day. To feel his unending love.
“I wish I knew my mom, but there aren’t even photos of her I can look at.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.
I twist in his arms, facing him. “It’s okay.
It’s just how it is.” I release a rough exhale, taking a long pause, wanting to tell him about my dream of her.
“I keep having a dream about a woman who looks so much like me.” He eyes me with immense concentration, like he wants to know everything.
“At first, I couldn’t see her face clearly, but now I do.
I’d like to believe that’s her, my mother, that she’s coming to me, knowing I need her. Do you believe that’s possible?”
He ponders over my words. “I don’t know, but I’d like to believe it is, because maybe then, there’s a chance I can see my parents too. Just one more time.”