Chapter 14 Matteo
MATTEO
The week blurs into a haze of unrelenting hunger.
Rose and I fuck like animals in heat, claiming every corner of the mansion as our playground. I can't get enough of her—her soft curves, her gasps, the way she yields to me. By day three, it's a frenzy, my cock buried in her at every opportunity.
Monday morning, I drag her back to the library where it all began. She's bent over the desk, skirt hiked up, no panties as per my rule now. I spank her ass cheeks red, watching them jiggle, then spread her legs and slam into her pussy from behind.
"Take it, little flower," I growl, pounding hard, books rattling on the shelves.
She claws at the wood, moaning my name as I reach around to rub her clit.
She comes with a sob, walls gripping me tight, and I pull out to paint her thighs with my load, marking her skin.
That afternoon, in the sun-drenched gardens, I pin her against the stone fountain. The water splashes cool on our heated bodies as I lift her leg over my hip and thrust into her standing. Birds chirp obliviously while I fuck her slow and deep, her back arching against the rough stone.
"Feel that? You're dripping for me out here, where anyone could see," I whisper filthily in her ear.
She bites her lip to stifle cries, but when I pinch her nipples through her blouse, she shatters, soaking my cock. I follow, grinding deep, filling her with hot spurts that leak down her legs as we catch our breath amid the roses.
Tuesday evening, the dining hall becomes our feast. I seat her on the long oak table, pushing plates aside, and bury my face between her thighs.
She tastes like sin, her pussy slick and swollen from the day's teasing texts I sent.
I lick her folds relentlessly, sucking her clit until her hips buck wildly.
"Come on my tongue, baby. Flood my mouth," I demand, fingers plunging inside her.
She screams, thighs clamping my head, and I lap up every drop before flipping her over. I take her ass cheeks in my hands, spreading them, and drive my cock into her pussy again, the table creaking under us. Her orgasm milks me dry, cum dripping onto the polished wood.
By Wednesday, we're insatiable. In the kitchen mid-morning, I hoist her onto the marble counter, her legs wrapped around my waist. I fuck her fast and rough, the slap of skin echoing off the tiles.
"Such a greedy little cunt, always ready for my dick," I grunt, biting her shoulder.
She comes twice, nails raking my back, before I explode inside her, our mingled fluids slicking the counter.
Thursday night, the east wing hallway sees me pressing her against the wall, hiking her nightgown up.
I drop to my knees, eating her out right there, her hands fisting my hair as she grinds on my face.
Juices coat my chin when she peaks, and I stand, freeing my cock to plunge into her still-quivering pussy.
I hold her up by the ass, bouncing her on me until I shoot ropes of cum deep, her walls fluttering around me.
Friday, we fuck in the greenhouse, surrounded by her beloved plants.
I tie her wrists with a silk scarf from my pocket and bend her over a wrought-iron bench. I tease her with my fingers first, scissoring inside her pussy, then replace them with my cock, slow thrusts building to a frenzy.
"Beg for it harder," I command, and she does, voice breaking.
Saturday afternoon, the grand staircase becomes risky territory. Halfway up, I pull her down to straddle me on the steps, her riding my cock with urgent bounces. The wood digs into my back, but I don't care. Rose and her perfect pussy are the center of my world now.
By the end of the week, she's marked everywhere: bruises on her hips, bites on her neck, my scent lingering on her skin. We're exhausted but addicted, every room echoing our passion.
But Monday hits hard. Business pulls me away all day and night, meetings dragging in the city, my mind on Rose the whole time.
I text her filthy promises, keeping her wet and waiting.
If Riccardo hadn’t needed my help, I would have stayed exactly where I’ve been all week, buried between her thighs with her moans in my ear.
By Tuesday morning, I'm more pent-up than I’ve ever been in my life.
“You okay, boss?” Ottavio teases on the way home. “You look a little strung up.”
“One more word and I’ll paint the car with your brains.”
He cackles loudly. “Oh, to be young and in love. I remember what that felt like.”
Is that what I am? In love? I search myself for the answer. It’s not easy for a man like me to admit to something as powerful as that. Love is the harbinger of weak spots. God knows I can’t afford to have any.
But Rose is different. For her, I’d face even that.
And she’s mine. No one else’s. I don’t plan on that ever changing.
So maybe it is what Ottavio says it is.
But I still haven’t let her into the west wing.
That thought gnaws at me. If she is to be wholly mine, I should be wholly hers. That’s just logic.
But can I give her that?
Not yet. I grip the leather of the seat hard. I’m not ready.
“Oh, by the way, boss,” Ottavio pipes up again. “Finally found what you asked.”
“The stalker?”
“Not yet. The other thing, though. It’s in the trunk.”
“In the trunk?” My eyes widen. “How long has it been there?”
“Couple of hours. Don’t worry, I parked in the shade.”
I sigh and massage my temples. Leave it to Ottavio to give me a heart attack first thing in the morning. “Make sure it’s taken care of.”
“Will do, boss.”
We get to the house. I force myself to walk slowly. But everything in me wants to spring out of the car and up the steps.
When I reach my room, Rose is in bed, beautiful in her sleep. But then again, she always is.
“Good morning,” I whisper into her as she shifts in the sheets.
“Matteo?” She blinks blearily in the pale dawn light. “You were gone so long…”
“I know. I’m here now.”
I strip her slowly, worshipping her body with hands and mouth. She responds instantly to my touch, like the distance has starved her just as much as it has starved me.
Spreading her thighs, I dive in, tongue lapping at her pussy. I suck her clit, flicking it relentlessly, fingers curling inside her to hit that spot.
"Taste so fucking good, little flower.”
“Matt—ah!”
I keep going until she’s writhing beneath me, hands fisted in my hair and in the sheets, her body shaking with need.
“Come for me,” I growl. “Let me drink you down."
Rose obeys. She arches into my mouth, fingers tight in my scalp, and shatters with a quiet moan.
But I don't stop there. I need more from her.
“I want to try something new.” I press a kiss to her inner thigh. “That okay?”
“Yes.” She’s fully awake now, wet and panting for me. “Please. I’ve missed you.”
I grab the lube from the nightstand and drizzle it over her tight asshole, circling the puckered ring with one slick finger. "Relax for me, baby."
I lean down again, licking her pussy lazily, broad strokes of my tongue as I press the finger in slowly.
Rose gasps, body tensing then melting as I work it deeper, scissoring gently. Her moans mix with the wet sounds of my mouth on her clit, and I add a second finger, stretching her carefully, thrusting in time with my licks.
"Feels good, doesn't it? Your ass taking my fingers while I eat this sweet pussy."
“Yes.” She's writhing now, pushing back.
I pull my fingers free and roll her onto her belly, propping her hips up with pillows. Lubing my cock generously, I nudge the head against her asshole, pressing in inch by inch. It's tight, hot, gripping me like a vise.
I groan, holding still to let her adjust. "Breathe, Rose. Fuck, you're so tight back here."
“I’ve never…” she gasps. “I—”
“I know. You’re doing so good, baby.”
Once she's taking me fully, I start moving, shallow thrusts building to a steady rhythm. My hand snakes under her, fingers finding her pussy, rubbing her clit then sliding two inside to fuck her in tandem. The dual sensation has her keening, body shaking.
“M-Matteo…!”
"That's it." I pound harder, the slap of my hips against her cheeks filling the room, my fingers curling to stroke her g-spot.
She comes explosively. Even her asshole clenches rhythmically around my cock, pussy spasming on my digits.
It's too much.
I thrust deep one last time, roaring as I spill into her ass, hot jets filling her up, leaking out around my shaft as I collapse over her.
We pant together, my body covering hers protectively. She's trembling, dazed by too many orgasms and new sensations. But fuck, if she wasn’t just as perfect as always.
“That reminds me.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ve got a gift for you.”
“Please tell me it’s not a dildo,” she pants. “I mean, I’m open, but right now I just—”
“I promise it’s nothing like that.” I almost laugh. “But first, we’re bathing.”
I help her into the tub and wash her up. She’s limp in my arms, so pliant she could be a doll. But there are no dolls this beautiful. Only my Rose.
Once we’re clean and dry again, her stomach growls. “Does your gift involve breakfast?” she asks.
“You can’t eat it, if that’s what you’re asking.” I kiss her briefly, just because I can. “But we can eat afterwards.”
“Fine.” She smiles into the kiss. “Lead the way, handsome.”