Chapter Thirty-Eight
Erin
The ride down with the private elevator is silent and tense. Matteo is softly brushing his fingers down my back, and this gesture grounds me more than any words could have.
When the doors open to the club level, he gently guides me out and leads me through a side corridor to a door I instantly recognize. He swipes his black ring over the scanner and the lock disengages.
It’s the same room, but instead of being all black, the space is now somehow warmer, with more touches of red than black, interwoven with golden elements.
On the low table next to the couch sits a bucket of ice with a bottle chilling inside.
The sheets are red today, reflecting the dim light and I swallow when the memory of that night comes crashing back.
“This is your room,” I say quietly. It’s not really a question.
He nods. “No one has ever used it. Except that night, with you.”
I hesitantly step inside, my heart beating so loudly that I am sure he must hear it. Matteo closes the door behind us, locking it with a soft click. Then he steps to a wet bar to pour himself a drink that must be whiskey, judging from the dark amber color.
I watch his every move, breathing short and heart thundering.
He turns and goes to sit on the leather couch, watching me like a hawk. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just looks.
I stand frozen by the door, unsure what to do, or if I should do anything at all.
He takes a sip of his glass, looking like a king in his kingdom, legs spread, one arm resting lazily across the back of the couch.
“Come here,” he says quietly.
It is not an order, but it is not a suggestion either.
I advance slowly, knees shaking. When I reach him to stand between his spread legs, he tilts his head back to watch me. His eyes linger on the black stone glinting against my throat for several heartbeats, then he puts the glass down on the low table beside him.
“Sit,” he gestures to his knee.
I hesitate for a second, then I obey.
He immediately wraps his arms around me, the hold strong and possessive. He slides one hand to my hip, lifting the other to stroke a thumb beneath my jaw. My breath falters.
“You trust me?” he asks.
I nod.
“Say it.”
“I trust you.” My voice is barely a whisper.
Something shifts in his expression, like tension melting.
“Then let go, amore .” His voice is low and tender. “I’ve got you.”
His eyes hold mine, scorching and hungry. “There is no safe word. You want to stop, just say it and we immediately stop, understood?”
I nod slowly, feeling my throat going dry and my heart hammering. He leans forward, dragging his nose along the column of my neck and inhales deeply. Then he brushes his lips beneath my ear and whispers hoarsely, “Kneel for me.”
My breath catches in my throat, my heart slams against my ribs and I feel my face flush hot.
I slowly slide off his lap with a steadying breath. Then I kneel.
The carpet is soft and warm under my legs. When I look up into his eyes, I find them already on me, dark and hot like molten lava.
“Good girl,” he rasps.
My pussy is getting wetter by the second, raw, hot need pulsing through my core. I swallow, breathing hard.
Matteo slips his fingers into my hair in a possessive but tender gesture.
“Here, you can let go of everything. Your fears, your doubts…your past,” he says, sliding his hand to my cheek and stroking his thumb over my lower lip. “All I want from you is surrender.”
I swallow again, then close my eyes for a brief moment. When I open them, I know that I am ready to submit to him.
He must see it, because his eyes grow even darker, his gaze is now laced with a feral hunger that makes my heart stutter. He leans back and extends his arms on each side of him over the back of the couch and silently stares down at me for several heartbeats.
Then his voice comes out in a low rasp. “I want your mouth on me, little ghost.”
My eyes snap to his crotch, to the bulge in his pants, and I feel my throat go dry.
Oh God, I want this so much .
I raise my hands and undo his belt with trembling fingers.
Then I tug his zipper down and pull out his cock.
He is already hard, the length veined and ridged.
Pre-cum is beading on the slit and I lick my lips in anticipation.
I hesitantly look up at him, waiting for guidance.
His eyes are smoldering as they look down at me, his jaw is clenched as are his hands over the backrest. The air between us crackles with tension and heat.
Matteo nods once and I wrap my hands around him, reveling in the velvety touch of his skin under my fingers.
Then I lean forward and lick his crown, tasting the salty tang of his pre-cum.
He hisses sharply at the contact.
I slowly take him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the head. My arousal is drenching me, the touch of my bare flesh in the dress heightening the sensation, making me feel depraved and bold.
“Eyes on me,” comes his sharp command and my eyes snap up to his. They are now completely black and he is breathing hard. I suck in my cheeks, taking him deeper. Then I bob my head up and down on his length and he lets out a strenuous groan.
“Good girl,” he grits out between clenched jaws. “Look at your perfect mouth, taking my cock so nicely.”
My pussy is throbbing from desire, my whole body is shaking with lust. I want to please him, be a good girl for him, and most of all, I want to see him unravel, knowing that I did that to him.
So I suck harder, taking him as far as I can, and even when my gag reflex kicks in, I breathe around it, wanting, needing more of him.
He is slowly losing control—his hips raise to meet me, low groans and incoherent words rumbling from his chest. “That’s it, amore , you feel so fucking good.”
I let go completely and give myself over to the sensation of him in my mouth, of my tongue stroking him, of my throat closing around his length when I try to take him deeper, faster.
Matteo lets go of the backrest and grips my shoulder almost painfully, threading the fingers of his other hand in my hair. “Fuck, amore , you’re gonna make me come. I won’t—”
He throws his head back and spills down my throat with a loud shout. I eagerly swallow every drop, licking and sucking even when his shuddering subsides.
He darts his hand out to grab my jaw and tilts my head up, eyes blazing.
Then he leans over me and slams his mouth over mine in a hungry, feral kiss.
Our tongues tangle with urgency, and I am so far gone that I barely register him hoisting me up to sit me on his lap again.
When he breaks the kiss, I am mortified by the needy whimper that I let spill out.
I am just grasping now the humiliating amount of power he has over my body, and this admission is staggering me.
Matteo rests his forehead against mine, breath still ragged. His hand brushes over my jaw, compelling me to meet his eyes.
“You did so well,” he rasps in a low and rough voice. “But I’m not done with you yet.” He rises, pulling me up with him. “Come here, little ghost.”
When I am standing before him, he lifts his hand and wraps his long fingers around my throat, over the collar. His hold is not tight, but possessive and it does unspeakable things to my pussy. He gently but firmly pushes me backward until the back of my legs bump against the bed.
He releases my throat. “Take off the dress, I want to see what’s mine.”
My breath stutters. Slowly, I obey, slipping the thin spaghetti straps from my shoulders. The silk pools at my feet, and I am standing before him, bare save for the heels. Exposed. Owned.
He exhales audibly. “On the bed, legs spread,” he rasps.
I climb on the bed and lie down, sensing the cool sheets alleviate the fever consuming me. When I spread my legs for him, I can feel the heat of his gaze sweeping over my skin like a touch.
“Hands above your head. Keep them there,” he orders and I comply, breathing hard as I watch him undress slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.
When he joins me on the bed and climbs over me, his cock is hard again.
He trails his mouth over my jaw, up to my mouth.
He stills and looks down at me. “I’m going to tie you up, and you’re going to trust me because you’re my good girl. Got it?” His voice is a rough command.
I swallow hard and nod, heart hammering in my chest. I’ve never let anyone restrain me, and the idea is as terrifying as it is arousing.
Matteo bends over me to pull out a pair of leather cuffs from a recessed compartment in the upholstered bed frame before clasping them around my wrists.
He straightens and brushes his knuckles over my cheek, gaze burning hot and hungry.
Then he moves down my body to the foot of the bed to tie my ankles.
I test the restraints. They’re not tight enough to hurt, but they are a reminder that I am now helpless and vulnerable.
And when he holds up a sliver of fabric I recognize as a blindfold, my heartbeat stutters and my breath catches.
“You trust me,” he murmurs. It comes out as a reminder rather than an assertion.
I look at the blindfold, then into his eyes.
They hold mine in a silent question. I swallow hard again, pulse hammering so hard that I am dizzy.
After an eternity I nod slowly. His eyes are blazing down at me now, possessive, scorching my skin.
He moves over me again and blindfolds me without a word.
I can hear my breath coming out too fast, too loud in the silence of the room.
His hands caressing my jaw makes me jump.
“Remember, amore . You have the power to end this whenever you want, just say the word.”
I shake my head, pushing down the fear of the unknown and the terror of being vulnerable. I want this. I want him, all of him.
The mattress dips and I hear the soft clink of ice cubes. Then he is back on the bed, between my legs, one hand braced next to my head.
“So fucking beautiful…” His voice is low and rough, and laced with so much awe my heart stops for a beat.
Then I jump and gasp when he brushes an ice cube over my lips.
Wordlessly, he trails it lower, over my jaw, dragging it over my throat.
When he circles a nipple with it, I writhe under the sensation.
The ice is burning my skin, the deprivation of sight heightening my senses.
I can feel his scorching gaze on every inch of me.
He slowly drags the ice over to the other nipple and teases it until a water drop trails between my breasts.
Suddenly his tongue is on me, lapping up the drop, and I buck with a sharp intake of breath.
He doesn’t stop there, but moves the ice over my body, down to my belly and lower, sucking and licking up the liquid in its wake.
When he reaches my pelvis, he removes the ice, and I squirm, feeling breathless, too hot, too cold, and aroused beyond reason.
Then his tongue is on me and I jump with a loud cry. He’s put the ice cube in his mouth, and his tongue is cool against my feverish skin as he drags it over my pussy, up to my clit.
“Oh God, Matteo,” I cry, tugging at my restraints.
As a reply, he growls low in his throat, the vibration travelling through me like a current.
He starts to lick and tease my clit until I am writhing under him with loud moans.
The heat of his tongue mixed with the cold of the ice sends my senses into overload. It is too much, and yet not enough.
“Please, oh God, please,” I hear myself beg, my hoarse voice and ragged breath echoing loudly in the room.
He picks up speed, sucking my clit into his mouth, until I’m a mess of want and raw pleasure.
I feel everything more intensely, now that my mind has no visual stimulation.
I throw my head back, giving in to his tongue, to the spiral propelling me higher and higher.
Until I shatter. My orgasm rams through me so hard I see stars.
I am dimly aware that I am sobbing Matteo’s name as my body is wracked by consuming tremors.
When he stops his torture at last, I notice that the blindfold is damp, soaked with tears I never noticed falling.
I am breathing hard, mind adrift and body boneless.
Matteo shifts, brushing kisses up my body, hands warm and grounding holding me together.
When he reaches my mouth, he brushes his lips over mine and drags his tongue over the seam until I part my lips.
He plunges in and claims my mouth in a scorching, all-consuming kiss.
Then he breaks the contact and trails the pad of his thumb over my lower lip.
“I’m gonna remove the blindfold, amore ,” he murmurs against my lips.
I nod in a daze, bracing for the light to pierce my eyes.
He unties the fabric with slow movements and slides it off my face.
I blink, trying to adjust to the brightness.
The first thing my eyes register is him, poised over me, watching me intently, one hand cupping my face.
His gaze burns into mine with an intensity so raw my heart starts to flutter against my ribs.
“So fucking perfect,” he murmurs in a rough voice.
Then his gaze turns hungry when his thumb brushes my lips and he slowly pushes his finger inside my mouth.
I close my lips around the digit and stroke my tongue along the rough skin, feeling the telltale tingle of arousal at the base of my spine.
My hands and legs are still bound, and the unequivocal vulnerability sets my every nerve ending on edge until my skin is humming.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” he growls, his voice a deep rumble traveling straight down to my pussy. “And you’re going to take every inch of me. Because you trust me, because you’re mine.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Yes, what?” he murmurs against my lips.
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes burn. “Good girl.”
He leans back to unclasp my ankles without breaking eye contact, then settles himself over me, sliding a hand to the back of my head to fist my hair and yank my head back.
Then he is inside me in one long, hard thrust and I cry out from the feel of his cock both soothing and stoking the ache burning within me.
Matteo starts to move in slow, languid thrusts, brushing his mouth to my temple.
“Let go, amore ,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”
And I do.