Chapter 27 #2
“I’m big,” he says, proudly, casually. “I don’t want to hurt you, so we’ll take it slow …”
It would have been better for me to lie down than be up against the wall like—
Oh.
He slides in an inch and my walls clamp around him. I breathe through it, panting as I feel the stretch, but then … after a few seconds, it feels divinely, insanely, wonderful.
I whimper, it’s too good, too much, and still I want more.
“Ready?” he asks, waiting.
“Y-yes.”
He slides in another inch, then stills. It hurts, but the discomfort quickly softens beneath a growing wave of pleasure.
We stare at one another, neither of us looking away.
Then his gaze falls down, between us, and he seems to watch intently as his cock slides inside me.
After every inch he waits, letting my body adjust. We’re breathing heavily now, almost panting, my insides igniting, like a fireball of pleasure is slowly spreading through me.
He glides in suddenly, and I cry out, clinging to him as a ripple of pleasure goes through me. He moves in some more. To the hilt now.
It feels incredible.
“You okay?” he murmurs, tweaking my clit.
I can only answer with a shaky sound. My lips part as pleasure coils tighter and tighter inside me, building little by little. A tremor runs through me, and I instinctively move closer. He lowers his head and presses a kiss to my skin, sending another shiver through me.
It’s sublime.
His thick cock filling me completely and his mouth latched to my breast. I’m a bundle of nerve endings, writhing and moaning as he thrusts against me. Each time he slams against me, another jolt of pleasure rips through me. My breasts bounce with the force of it, and I can barely hold on.
A whimper escapes me as I feel myself starting to come apart.
The tension builds and even more, carrying me higher, until I’m completely lost in the sensation.
Riding the wave, sounds falling from my lips that I don’t recognize.
I come hard, crying out as pleasure crashes through me in wave after wave, before collapsing against him, trembling and breathless.
“Fuck,” he moans.
“Yes, please,” I murmur. He’s still hard inside me, but he pulls out, letting me down gently to the floor.
“Fuck,” he cries. Looking at me. Looking worried. “I forgot to wear a condom. First time ever.”
My eyes widen, through my lazy post-sex haze. “Doesn’t matter. I’m on the pill.”
“Sorry.”
I’m still coming down from my high as he gently leads me to the bed, guiding me down with the flat of his hand so that I sink into the sumptuousness of it. I could roll around ten times and I still wouldn't fall off.
I look up to find Matteo sliding a condom over his hardness, a fire burning in his eyes.
Oh.
I smile and start to spread my legs apart, but I'm startled when he flips me onto my stomach and pulls me back onto my heels. Before I can even blink, he thrusts into me in one smooth motion, knocking the air clean out of my lungs.
A startled cry escapes me as he gathers me closer and buries his face against my shoulder. The pace between us changes instantly. The slow, careful restraint from earlier is gone, and now every movement he makes is urgent, driven by weeks of anticipation and desire finally set free.
I’m still trembling and oversensitive, still floating in my own hazy paradise and coming down from the first orgasm.
“Elizabeth,” he rasps.
The sound of my name on his lips sends another shiver through me.
His breathing grows rougher, more uneven, and I can feel the tension building in him, feel the way he's holding on by a thread.
He lets out a ragged groan and buries his face against my neck, his entire body going tight before he finally relaxes against me.
For a few moments neither of us moves.
Eventually, I manage to roll onto my side and find him taking off the condom and disposing of it.
He slides under the duvet, holds out his arm for me to do the same. I jump in and snuggle against him.
“You okay, babe?” He drops a kiss on my head.
“Never been better.” My hand skates over his ridged abs.
“Sorry about that, about not wearing protection earlier.”
I look up at him because he seems really worried about that. “I'm on the pill. I've only just finished my period, so we should be okay.”
I curl up into his side, sighing like a contented kitten. I feel his heart beating under my fingers.
“I won’t forget next time,” he says.
Next time.
“Looking forward to it.” I kiss his skin again. His hand slides down to my waist, and he sighs, like he’s content.
“Do you hurt?” he asks.
“Just a little sore.”
“Sorry.”
I lift my head again. So much concern for how I’m feeling, and his need to know that I’m okay. I love this man. I really think I do. “Don’t be sorry. I had a great time. Couldn’t you tell?”
His lips curve upwards. “I heard.” Then his expression sobers. “You were tight, not that I’m complaining.” I sense there’s a question in there somewhere.
“I haven’t been in a relationship for a few years.”
“No?”
“I haven’t been hiding in a convent. I have dated, and had the occasional fling, but nothing that seemed worth rearranging my life for.”
“Ah.” He sounds like he wants more information.
I could tell him it was because I was focused on my cybersecurity company, because I needed it to work, but that would only open the floodgates for him to ask about my past. And I don’t want that.
I have to be so careful because Matteo doesn’t miss a thing, and I sense he’s a little hung up on Vlad and what he means to me.
“How did you meet your friend? The one who’s getting married?”
“Vlad?”
“Is that his name?”
“Didn’t I mention it before?” I ask, acutely aware that I haven’t. I’ve been trying not to talk about Vlad, or the wedding, but I realize how ridiculous this is given that we’re going to Europe together.
Matteo seems uneasy, and I’m not sure if he’s jealous, or if it’s something else.
“How did you meet him?”
“Online, I thought I told you.”
I didn’t mean to sound so defensive, but I wasn’t expecting this level of interrogation after what we’ve just done. I prop up on my elbow, thumbing his lower lip, then slide my finger into his mouth. He sucks it, his eyes on mine. It’s so intimate. Suggestive. Dirty and delicious.
I’m curious about his past lovers. “Tell me,” I say, moving my hand across his chest. “What about you? How many in the last year?”
“In the last year? What do you think I am, an escort?” he exclaims.
I imagine someone like him, looking more like a rockstar than a billionaire, would have many women dropping at his feet.
“You look like you belong on stage, like you’re part of a band.”
He chuckles. “You should hear what the old man has to say about my dress sense. I’m the only one who doesn’t wear a suit. Dex doesn’t either, he’s usually in smart jeans and T-shirts, but my dress code is slightly more unconventional for a CEO.”
I do remember what Paul said, when I discovered who Matteo was. The thought takes me back to the memory of us being trapped in the elevator. I would never have guessed who he was. I thought he worked in maintenance, facilities or maybe the building operations team.
I want to know more about his family. I’m always intrigued by people and their connections and relationships, maybe because I don’t have any.
Vlad and the team were the closest I ever got to feeling a part of a group, until we got caught.
He got arrested and the rest of us were dragged into investigations and interviews.
Everything changed. The group scattered.
Vlad eventually left the United States and rebuilt his life in Croatia, far away from the attention, the scrutiny, and the ghosts of what we'd all done.
None of us were ever quite the same after that.
Thinking about that time always drags me somewhere I don’t want to go. I force myself to come back to the present. “Tell me more about Dex.”
“He’s my half-brother.”
“Your half-brother?” I don’t understand fully what he means, though I’m starting to see that his family is more complicated than I thought. His mom lives in Italy, he doesn’t get on with his father, and now I learn that Dex is a half-brother.
“You really want to know about my fucked-up family?”
My fingers still on his bicep. “I want to know everything.”
He exhales a long sigh, as if he’s preparing himself for something difficult.
“There are two sets of brothers. The American Knights, and us. Same father. Different mothers. Different countries. Different lives. We found out about one another when we were very young. Jett was a teen. Rio was ten, and me and Enzo a few years younger, when that sordid secret came out and disrupted all our lives on both sides of the Atlantic.”
My mouth hangs open, and I have no words.
“Fucked up, I told you.”
“What sordid secret?”
He exhales a lengthy sigh. “The old man had an affair. He had a wife—Jett, Dex and Zach’s mom, and a mistress. I shouldn’t say that about my mom, but … she was the other woman, the one he didn’t marry. She also didn’t know he was a married man with a whole other life and family in the States.”
My stomach twists. Shock crashes through me followed by something heavier. Sympathy. Sadness. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like for a child to discover that his entire family had been built on a lie.
I hear the pain in his voice. This isn't something he likes to talk about. I’m starting to understand the meanings behind his tattoos, and the Latin inscriptions.
“Matteo. That sounds … awful.” I sit up, the duvet falling from me as I reach out and gently cup the side of his face. He doesn't look at me, he stares at the wall in front, his voice dropping an octave.