Chapter 28
MATTEO
I watch Elizabeth as she sleeps. I've been awake for a while, waiting patiently. Just looking at her, while I check my messages.
I get a text from Zach. He says he needs to see me. I have a sinking feeling as to why. So I put my phone away and turn to my sleeping princess.
Last night was wild. We showered, and then I ordered takeout since we were both starving by then. We devoured everything then had sex a few more times, before falling asleep again.
My cock twitches just thinking about it. I have morning wood, and I’m hoping we can do something about that.
I turn to my side and drop a kiss on her lips. She rubs her lips together, sighing like a contented cat. She told me she was a little sore down there, and I decide to kiss it better. I'm itching to wake her, but I’m not selfish like that, so I bide my time.
It's hard to dislodge the gnawing thought that pricks me. Whenever I asked about Vlad, she got uncomfortable. At least I know his name now.
If they were together once, I don't care.
She's mine now, and that's all that matters.
She takes in a breath, then stretches, one arm coming out of the duvet, almost knocking my eye out.
I peek under cover, see her pebbled nipple and latch onto her breast. I suck hungrily, and she immediately arches her back, a dirty, sexy moan falling from her lips.
It only makes my cock harder, which only makes me suck harder as I switch to the other breast.
“Awwww, Matteo,” she murmurs, her voice seductive and low.
I lift my head. “You like it?”
“Ummmm.”
That’s all the permission I need. I disappear under the duvet, and suck each breast hungrily again. She arches her back even more, almost lifting off the bed, oblivious to the fact that the sounds falling from her lips are speaking directly to my cock.
I move lower, and lower still, my pre-cum leaving a wet trail on the sheets.
Her sultry sighs make me so hard I'm in danger of coming all over her, but I hold back.
I slide far down the bed, leaving the duvet to cover the top half of her, while moving the bottom half away so I can see her beautiful, wet, dripping pussy.
Fuck.
My mouth waters at the sight of her glistening lips and I’m desperate to taste her.
I level my face with her pussy and slide my tongue inside her.
I grunt, guzzling her greedily because she tastes to good, her juices dripping over my lips and tongue.
Her sexy little sighs have me turning harder still.
My hands slide under her buttocks and I open her up to me, my face devouring her for breakfast.
She rips the duvet away completely, lying naked now, her feet on my shoulders, as she tries to push me away. “Matteo!”
I stop, and look up. “You don't like it?”
“I do … but …”
That’s all I need to hear, before I dive back again. She squirms again like she wants me to stop. So I do.
“You said you liked it.”
“Your face is wet.” She recoils in disgust. I lick my tongue around my lips.
“Babe, that’s all you, and you taste fucking divine. Please, let me.” I make to dive back between her legs again and this time she falls back again, lying limp and soft, opening up more for me.
I bury my face in her wetness, licking and sucking and feasting like a man starved.
She writhes and bucks, like she’s about to come, and every time her muscles clench against my tongue, I pull out.
I tease her like this mercilessly, until she’s panting, and mewling, so much, I need to fuck her, hard.
“You keep stopping!” she cries out, frustrated.
“You can’t come yet.”
“I want you inside me. I need it.”
I sit up and reach for the condom. “At your command.”
Who am I to deny her?
I lift one of her legs and settle it against my shoulder, giving us both a better angle.
Her fingers tighten in the sheets immediately.
My gaze stays locked on hers as I move closer. She draws in a breath, her chest rising and falling, and I can see her fighting to stay relaxed. Every emotion she's feeling plays across her face.
“Look at me,” I murmur.
She does.
The connection between us is almost overwhelming.
She swallows and lets out a slow breath, as I slide into her. She lets out a low, sexy, breathless moan. I watch her as I fill her completely.
“You feel fucking amazing,” I tell her, setting up a rhythm as I move against her. Her eyes flutter shut for a moment before meeting mine again. Another soft sound falls from her lips, and I grip her a little tighter, my thrusts turning more urgent, as desire and relief course through me.
I slam into her, harder and harder still. Every reaction she gives me only fuels the need burning through my veins.
I lower my head and press a kiss to her shoulder, fighting for control even as it slips a little more with every passing second.
Then her mouth falls open and her chest and neck turn red.
She’s so expressive, so loud, so sexy, as she unravels before my eyes.
I watch her intently, waiting for her to finish writhing.
Waiting for her to ride it out and her body to go limp.
I love watching her come.
And soon after, I thrust in a few times, and stay still inside her, getting my own release.
I pull out after a few moments, then dispose of the condom and lie beside her. “Morning, babe.”
“Morning.”
It’s going to be an amazing weekend. I can feel it already.
We hold hands, staring up at the ceiling silently.
“Hey.” I nudge her, after a while.
“Hey.” She turns to me.
I don’t want there to be any obstacles or friction between us. No lies or secrets. I’ve seen the damage my old man caused and I never want to be like him. “I don’t care about your past,” I tell her.
A chilly silence frosts over.
She sits up. Properly sits up, her brow creasing. “W-what do you mean?”
I sit up, eager to reassure her. ““It's no big deal. Whatever happened between you and Vlad, it’s okay.”
She blinks, waiting for me to go on.
“If you were together once, it doesn't matter to me. I don't care about your past, Elizabeth.”
“You don't care about my past?” Her voice is hard, and it startles me. “That's very big of you, Matteo.”
What the fuck just happened? Are we having our first row? I don't understand her reaction.
“It feels like you're getting all defensive every time I mention him, and I ... I …” I decide to shut my mouth because the conversation has taken a turn I wasn’t expecting.
“I don't want to argue with you, Elizabeth.” I climb off the bed because I have no idea what the hell just happened. “I’m taking a shower.”
***
ELIZABETH
Tension hangs in the air like prickly old mistletoe. I overreacted, and after everything Matteo told me last night, how he opened up and was vulnerable, telling me about his family dynamics and his childhood, my reaction just now was uncalled for.
I don’t mean to get defensive, but I can’t help it.
Matteo thinks Vlad is a past lover. Nothing could be further from the truth. He’s not even accusing me of anything, but he’s right, I am defensive and vague—for other reasons. He was just trying to be nice and I reacted in the wrong way.
My phone buzzes on the bedside table, and I reach for it, then groan when I see that it’s Vlad.
Vlad: You haven’t RSVP’d. I’m about to book your hotel room … are you bringing a plus one?
I stare at the message for a second, not sure what to write.
I still haven’t booked my flight. Because Matteo plans to visit his mom, we were trying to coordinate our trips.
He thinks we can steal a few days together before heading off in different directions.
I was supposed to look into where we could meet, but I haven’t, yet.
Elizabeth: Not sure. I need to ask him.
Vlad: There’s a plus one? You’ve kept him a secret.
Elizabeth: I don’t even know what your fiancé looks like!
Vlad: You’ll meet her soon. What’s his name?
I don’t answer, but set my phone to silent and put it back on the bedside table.
I climb out of bed, naked and walk into the shower.
Matteo is already inside the enormous walk-in space, large enough to fit half my apartment.
Dark stone and sheets of glass separate the shower from the rest of the bathroom.
He’s lathering soap all over his arms and shoulders I can’t help staring.
His hair is now slicked back by the water, his body seems even more lean and toned.
Above him the oversized rainfall shower head sends a steady torrent of water.
Thick streams cascade over his body, washing away the soap suds, and leaving droplets trickling down his sculpted body.
My insides start to heat just looking at him. I walk into the shower which is big enough for ten people, and he turns around and looks at me, surprised, not smiling, or amused, just wearing a neutral expression, like he doesn’t know how to deal with me.
I feel a tinge of sadness because a few hours ago we’d been tangled together in bed, our bodies sated and sweaty, sharing secrets that bonded us closer together. Now there’s a distance between us again, hard to ignore.
I close the shower door behind me, turn the water flow down until it's merely a soft trickle, quiet enough so he can hear me. He raises a questioning eyebrow.
“Would you like to be my plus one at the wedding?”
Water droplets trickle down his face. A few drip from his lips, and more trail down his chest. I place my hands on his hard chest, waiting for an answer.
He appears to think about it, and then he asks, “Do you want me to be your plus one?”
“I'd love for you to be my plus one.”
Relief floods his face, his expression softens. “Okay,” he says, hesitating for a split second I almost missed it.
“Good. I put my arms around his waist, and notice that his cock is hard already. “I don't like it when we argue.”
“Me neither.” He cups my face. Trickles of water from the shower gently wet my back, and part of my hair. But I'm not here to shower. I drop to my knees and slide my mouth along his shaft.
It takes him by surprise.
His hand rests on my head, the other resting against the glass wall.
I want to make him feel good, like he made me, when I woke up. This man carries old wounds, complicated family baggage and insecurities he rarely lets anyone see. Just because his scars sometimes make him jealous, or protective, or suspicious, doesn’t mean I have to hold it against him.
I have my own scars, too.
It doesn't mean we have to argue about silly things.
So I take him in, slowly, all the way in, my hand firmly around his girth, as I pump, then suck, alternating my movements, and feel him hardening even more. He grunts, pressing his hand into the glass, as steam curls around us.
I suck him gently, then hard, until he comes in my mouth, ropes of thick white cum hitting the back of my throat.
Then he helps me to standing, turns on the shower faucet and we stand under the water, arms wrapped around one another, like we don’t want to let go.