chapter 21
Matleon
Dad gives me another look across the table.
He’s been giving me look after look since the wedding.
He thinks I forced Iselyn into this marriage, which is absolutely true, but I can’t admit it to him.
If I do, he’ll glare at me for days, maybe throw in a few words of anger about how he doesn’t like it.
My father never forces me to do anything or forbids me; he just lays out the consequences.
I ignore Dad and focus on Ma and Pa’s bickering.
Pa is enjoying it, as always, while Ma seethes.
Later, he’ll use this opportunity to coax her, something he loves doing.
I used to find it bothersome, but now I understand Pa’s side perfectly.
After all, I also have a wild kitten in my life, sitting now between my mom and Aunt Avi.
They’re whispering something to her that’s making her flush, their giggles rising in response.
They need to stop teasing her, or she’ll turn into a glowing tomato, which, admittedly, is my favorite state of her.
I sigh and look away. Just a few more minutes, and she’ll be all mine.
I’ve been avoiding her since our wedding because I don’t trust my own control around her, and she was still in Russia, where I had to maintain the image of a gentleman.
With her, I’m many things, but a gentleman isn’t one of them.
I check the time on my watch, it’s half past nine.
Dinner has long ended, now everyone is just chatting, sitting around, wasting time.
Zo is lucky to be in a state where he needs someone by his side all the time, or at least that’s what everyone thinks.
In reality, he’s using it as an opportunity to keep Avi glued to him.
Mom gets up, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Alright, everyone, it’s time to go to sleep.
We have a newlywed among us, it’s not good to keep them apart for so long.
” I return her grin. She winks at me. She must have noticed me checking my watch.
She always knows what I want, even without me saying a word.
I get up, and everyone follows, chuckling. Wen nudges me with her elbow as we walk toward Mom, while the others head off to Uncle’s mansion.
“If you won’t treat her well, I’ll take her to my room,” she says. I glare at her. She gives me a tight-lipped smile. I mimic it.
After kissing Mom and Dad goodnight, she takes my wife with her and walks out of the dining room.
I don’t miss the glint of sadness in Iselyn’s eyes when Wen kisses Mom and Dad.
I wish I could do something about it, but there’s no solution.
She loves her parents, and she has to live away from them.
All I can do is bring them here and take her there once a month.
I kiss Mom on the cheek. “Good night.”
She squeezes my cheeks together, then kisses me on the cheek. “Good night.” I’ve told her multiple times over the years not to do this, but who can make her stop?
Dad comes toward us.
I sigh as soon as our eyes meet. “Come on, Dad, for how long are you going to give me this look?”
Mom looks toward him. “Why are you giving him looks, Alessio?”
Dad wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Why don’t you ask your son, sole mio?”
Mom turns to me with narrowed eyes. “What have you done?”
I shrug. “Nothing. Your husband is imagining weird things.”
Her eyes narrow further. Mom trusts Dad the most in this world.
“Treat her well in the future. I want this marriage to work. She is a good child,” Dad says.
I nod. “Don’t worry, this marriage will work first class.” I grin. “Now let me go so I can work on it,” and walk past them.
I know Mom will try to question Dad later, but he won’t tell her anything. He knows she wouldn’t take it the way he does, she would give me thousands of lectures and tell Iselyn to report if I do anything wrong. And I don’t want that to happen.
I open the door to my room. I don’t want my Angel believing there’s anyone who could save her from me. She’s not there. I approach the bathroom, the sound of running water coming from the other side of the door. I lean against the wall beside it, crossing my arms.
Fifteen minutes later, the sound stops, and soon after comes the click of the door unlocking. My smile widens. And the door opens.
I swipe her off her feet as soon as she comes out, a shocked cry rings in the room, then in my mouth. The smell of her vanilla body wash fills my senses, the humid warmth from her hot shower surrounding me completely.
She recovers from the shock and starts pushing on my shoulders, her lips relaxing against mine as I suck and lick them.
Damn it. She feels so right in my arms—struggling to break free but unable to.
I hold the back of her head with one hand, keeping her exactly where I need her. Locking her with my arm, my other hand rubs her back. I need to feel more of her.
It’s been four fucking months.
I sit on the bed with her straddling my hips.
My tongue finds its home—inside her mouth, licking the roof.
Her hot, ragged breaths fan my cheek. She’s not responding, but she has stopped struggling, which is more than welcome.
My hands roam all over her back and waist, feeling every inch of her.
This is torture for my balls, but it feels so goddamn good, so goddamn right, so goddamn perfect.
My Angel.
In my arms.
I let her lips go, pressing my forehead against hers, fucking breathless. When will these teenage reactions of my body ever stop? I don’t think ever. She will drive my mind and body crazy till the day I die.
“I missed you so fucking much,” I rasp.
She pulls her head back and looks into my eyes.
No matter how much she denies it, she can’t convince me.
How can I believe she doesn’t want me when her pupils are swallowing the entire ocean of her eyes, her cheeks are flushed so red it feels like blood could start dripping from her skin, her breath is so ragged and hot.
I’m damn sure I’d find her wet if I went down there.
Fuck. Why the hell am I thinking that, only to make the ache in my dick worse?
“You’re talking like we’ve been together forever, and those four months were the only time we spent apart,” she says, trying to sound sarcastic, but with her freshly kissed face and choppy voice, it lands nowhere.
I can’t stop the chuckle. Now she’s glaring at me with that adorable expression, and all this while sitting on my dick.
“Also, Matleon, we had a deal, you wouldn’t touch me.”
I slide my hands from the sides of her waist to her shoulders. My wife has curves worth worshipping.
“It was the mandatory wedding kiss that was overdue.”
She tries to push away, but with my hands on her shoulders, it’s not that easy.
“And what you are doing now… what is this?” she grits out.
My hands follow the same path down her back and then to her soft ass, pulling her closer. Her bottom slides on my dick. I almost moan from the sudden shot of pleasure.
“This is also mandatory. The wedding ritual—they call it the wedding night, and it’s overdue too.”
I hold her ass and push her back, then forward again.
Her eyes widen, a small gasp escapes her lips.
She bites her lower lip as I repeat it once more.
Her breath is ragged again, the fading red returning to her cheeks, and the black is eating the blue of her eyes.
I’m going to come just from watching this sight.
“Stop it, Matleon,” she snaps, but it’s more a moaning cry than a command.
Iselyn
I press my hands against his shoulders, trying to push him away, but my arms have lost their strength.
My whole body has lost its strength. He doesn’t stop, grinding my core against the bulge in his pants.
Every movement sends jolts of pleasure through me, making it impossible to resist. I want to protest with words, but even that feels impossible.
If I release my lips from between my teeth, shameless sounds will spill out, and I refuse to give him the pleasure of thinking I’m enjoying this.
His eyes are half-closed, watching me from beneath his lashes. His jaw is clenched tight, I wonder if he’s holding back his own moans.
And then it comes: a low, rumbling groan. My moan follows, escaping my lips as they part freely from between my teeth.
His groan shakes his chest and shoulders, vibrations running through my palms. He drives me harder, pressing my center deeper against his shaft.
My eyes close, moans falling freely from my mouth.
He already knows I’m enjoying it, I refuse to admit it outright, knowing I’ll later call him out for crossing the line. Right now, I am shameless, selfish.
And then everything unravels. Thoughts scatter, sensations overwhelm me, and the last thing I hear is a roaring groan before my orgasm explodes inside me. White light floods my closed eyes.
When I come down from the high, I find myself hugging Matleon. My face is pressed against his shoulder, and I’m holding him for dear life.
I push back, but he doesn’t stop me. When I step down, he only watches me with those drunk, dark eyes, darker than the darkness itself. I run a hand over my t-shirt and shorts.
He rises from the bed, and my feet instinctively move back.
He is dangerous, not just because he’s a reincarnation of Satan, but because he can make me cum so easily and so fiercely.
It would have been perfect if he weren’t the man I so desperately want to mess with, but right now, my body is telling me otherwise.
When my back hits the bookshelf behind me, I stop. He comes closer and places his hands on either side of me.
I find my voice and mutter, “You can’t touch me.”
He smirks. “I’m not touching.”
I lift my chin. “You were just now.”
“And you were enjoying it.” His smirk stretches across his face.
I glance around, trying to sound casual. “It’s normal. If it were any other man in your place, it would have been the same.”
Matleon’s smirk vanishes in an instant.
Satan is back.
He grabs my waist, yanking me up against the bookshelf. Pain shoots through me where he’s holding my weight. I try to plant my toes, but the floor seems to vanish beneath me. His other hand clamps around my chin. Dark eyes, clenched jaw, furrowed brows—anger radiating from every inch of him.
“You think it would have been the same?”
I nod. His body trembles with the force of his rage. The grinding of his teeth is audible even over the frantic pounding of my heart. I did this to make him angry, so why is my own heart racing like this? Is it fear of his anger, or the pain biting into my waist?
He leans forward, his mouth brushing my cheek. “I know what you’re trying to do.”
His lips trail down to my neck. He sucks at my skin, circling my throat, and a strangled moan slips out of me before I can stop it.
He releases my waist. My body slides down between him and the bookshelf, my knees buckling. I clutch the shelf behind me just to stay upright, my legs shaking.
He bends down again, one hand gripping my chin, the other planted beside my head. His lips graze my ear as he speaks, voice low and lethal. “If a man ever dares to exist even in your thoughts, I’ll cut him into neat little pieces, right in front of your eyes.”
Before I can process the words, his mouth crashes into mine. The kiss is brutal, punishing. I can’t stop it. I can’t even register it properly. My head spins from the force, from the dominance, from the sheer intensity of him.
And then—cold.
He pulls away, leaving me rooted to the spot as he circles the wall and disappears into the bathroom.
My heart is still lodged in my throat. I drag in greedy breaths, finally forcing my trembling legs to move.
I somehow make it to the bed and sit down. After collecting myself, I lie back, phone in hand, and open my notes.
I cross out the first heading: “Make him angry to the point he goes crazy.” That won’t work. I don’t have enough guts to make him angry without driving myself crazy. Because when he gets angry, he does that, and I do not want a repeat performance of what just happened.
My lips ache. The space between my thighs aches too, but the ache is different, pulling my thoughts straight back to the edge of the bed, to the bookshelf, to him.
I press my fingers against my burning core, but I know I’ll never be able to make myself come the way he did. Matleon is irreplaceable. I shake my head and redirect my attention to my phone.
My eyes land on the next point: “Treat him like air, so he gets irritated from lack of attention.” Better. Safe. No forced, maddening kisses from this. And I won’t feel any of that.
I write at the top in bold red letters: “Stay two feet away from Matleon.”
I set my phone down, close my eyes, and ask the room assistant to turn off the lights. The next second, my eyes snap open. I ask the assistant to turn them back on again.
I sit upright. I can’t sleep in his bed. And with his parents here, I can’t even move to another room. There’s no couch in this room. Wen had told me there used to be a full sofa set, but it’s gone now. They all teased me relentlessly, saying I had no choice but to sleep with Matleon in this bed.
I take the quilt and pillow and get down from the bed. I walk around it and, just beside the balcony door, place the pillow on the carpet and spread the quilt over it, then lie down. I ask the room assistant to increase the room temperature and turn off the lights.
Turning my back to the room, I look out through the glass balcony door.
The waning crescent moon glows softly in the sky.
My mom has so many songs she sings to the moon, one of them is my favorite, the lullaby I could never tire of.
I close my eyes, my mom’s sweet voice echoing in memory, pulling me gently toward sleep.