Chapter 27
twenty-seven
I lie on Matthias’s bed, staring at the ceiling.
The sound of my breathing is the only thing to be heard throughout the vast space other than the familiar, comfortable clicks of the pocket watch hef left on his dresser.
He never goes anywhere without it, which tells me he was in a hurry to get to the club after he received the call about the assault.
I’ve been back at the penthouse for almost an hour, my stomach churning as my mind races a million miles an hour. He hasn’t come back yet, or if he has, he hasn’t come back here to me, which tells me what I need to know.
I am nothing but a mere pawn on his chessboard, not the queen I always thought I was. Our marriage is nothing more than a farce, a tactic he never had the chance to utilize because the enemy’s king is already wiped from the board.
Now it is time for a new game, a new adversary, and I don’t belong anymore. He will find another pawn. Another distraction. Another tactic to take down the enemy.
I bolt up with a start as the door to the room swings open, bouncing against the wall harshly. Matthias stalks into the room, looking worn and disheveled.
“What do you want?” I snap at him, glaring angrily.
“You wanted to tell me your side of the story,” he mutters gruffly, but his voice is soft. “So, I’m here to listen.”
I suck in a deep breath; a sob lodging in the back of my throat as tears spring to my eyes.
He sits down at the end of the bed and stares at me, waiting patiently.
The smell of whiskey and smoke wafts around him.
The whiskey is his comfort, and the smoking is a habit he hasn’t quite kicked when he is stressed.
Knowing that he has been sweating over coming in here makes the cold parts of my heart warm.
“Are you sure you want to hear it?” I ask, tilting my head to get a better view of him. He’s changed into a pair of gray sweats and a white T-shirt from the stash of clothes keeps in a duffel bag in the living room.
“There’s a difference between want and need, Ava.” He fixes me with a hard look. “I may not want to hear it, but I need to. You were right when you said I was using it as a reason to push you away.”
His eyes are dark, haunted, and I can see the pain etched into them like a chisel on stone.
Rough, chiseled, and covered in cracks. I am no stranger to how much vulnerability Matthias shows when he places his trust in someone; it is so rare.
The man has more than two hundred men under his command, but the only people he ever trusts are the men of his inner circle, and me.
I betrayed that trust, even if it wasn’t willingly. Hell, it wasn’t even deliberately. But the air needs to be cleared. There is one thing that needs to be addressed, and that is the issue of his brother.
A name I never uttered outside this bedroom to anyone.
So, I tell him my story.
From the moment Jonathon Archer walked into my apartment and threatened to throw me in prison for Elias to kill to the moment Seamus and Kiernan saved me. I leave nothing out because there is nothing for me to hide.
When I finish, I expect him to leave. To shout. Anything. Instead, he turns to me, tugging my body toward his before slowly and methodically removing my pajamas piece by piece. Then he lays me back against the pillows.
“What are you…?”
He silences me with a stern look while his large, tattooed hands roam my naked body. It’s been a couple of weeks since I was rescued from the stables, and although my superficial wounds have mostly healed, there are many that still haven’t.
His touch maps out the scars like a road map, memorizing each burn of the cattle prod, each scarred line from the knife, the still healing graze of the bullet I took for Kiernan. Not that my brother appreciates it.
Asshat.
Touches turn to kisses as Matthias turns me every which way, inspecting, caressing, committing each wound to memory.
I have no doubt that he is tallying each one to personally inflict them back on Christian.
Matthias’s tongue darts out to swivel inside my belly button. The erotic gesture causes me to giggle. His head dips lower, his nose running through the soft curls of my mound. I draw in a deep breath as he parts my thighs. I feel a rush of wet heat sweep through me at the primal action.
“Always so wet for me, Krasnyy,” he growls, the vibration sending a jolt straight to my cunt. My pulse races, chest heaving as he sweeps his tongue over my center, causing me to whimper.
“Only you,” I gasp as he flicks his tongue over my clit. I moan loudly, my back arching off the soft duvet as I try to push my hips closer to his mouth.
“That’s right, Red.” He smirks against my pussy lips. “Only me.”
“Matthias,” I whimper his name as he begins to lap at me in earnest, a string of embarrassing sounds leaving me, but I don’t care.
He sinks two of his thick digits into my wet heat, sliding his fingers in and out a few times before curling them in just the right spot that has my hips bucking off the bed.
“Easy now.” Matthias’s arm presses down on my hips, keeping me in place as he assaults me with his tongue, his teeth, and his fingers like there is no tomorrow. Just when I think I will reach the end, when the coil in my lower stomach can’t tighten anymore and I will fly over the edge, he stops.
“No,” I whine when the heat of his body leaves me wanting and aching for more.
“Don’t worry, Red.” He smirks as he removes every stitch of clothing that separates his skin from mine. “I won’t leave you wanting.”
He crawls up my body, leaving hot, electric open-mouthed kisses in his wake until his cock is in my face.
“Open wide, baby girl.”
I don’t need any further encouragement. Opening my mouth, I hold his gaze in a thrall as he clenches his ass, jutting his hips forward until the head of his dick is at my lips.
Still holding eye contact, I lick a drop of precum from his tip and then suck him into my mouth to take him as far as I can.
The flat of my tongue runs along the underside of his shaft as he begins a slow, rhythmic pace of fucking my mouth.
“Fuck, Ava.” He groans as I dig my nails into the muscles of his ass, being sure to leave marks. The thin thread of control he has snaps, and he leans forward, bracing himself against the wooden headboard before he begins rutting like a wild animal.
All I can do is grip his ass cheeks harder, setting a harsh, unrelenting rhythm as he fucks my mouth for his own pleasure. Drool drips out the sides of my mouth as I gag, struggling to breathe around his girthy length.
My pussy clenches with need, long, muted moans echoing in my throat, sending pleasurable vibrations up his cock as he pounds into me.
“Blyad,” he curses in Russian as he pulls out of my mouth, flipping me over until I am on all fours.
“Fuck,” I groan as he pulls my hips back harshly, impaling me on his rock-hard cock in one movement.
“I missed this feeling,” he growls as he pounds into me from behind like a dog in heat.
The walls of my pussy clench around him when his hand strikes my right cheek.
I claw at the bedsheets, the sounds leaving my throat like those of a wild animal, a bitch in heat.
If he wasn’t sending me into an orgasmic bliss, I might be humiliated.
Hands tangle in my hair as he hauls me up until my back hits his chest, pumping even harder.
I cry out, the angle of this position causing him to hit even deeper.
One hand comes up to pinch at my nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger harshly.
Teeth nip at my neck, and the hand that is in my hair rubs at my clit furiously.
“Come for me, Krasnyy,” he rumbles in my ear. “Come all over your husband’s cock.”
I do just what he asks. A string of incoherent words rips from my mouth as my orgasm washes over me like a tidal wave.
“Matthias!” I throw my head back against his shoulder as I scream his name, my inner walls clenching tightly around him, squeezing until he, too, crashes over the edge.
He collapses forward, taking me with him, his dick still inside me. We are both covered in sweat, panting and out of breath. Matthias gently pulls out, the squelch of wetness bringing a hue of red to my cheeks. I expect him to leave again, like he did before, but he surprises me.
Matthias is always surprising me.
Getting up from the bed, he enters the bathroom. I can hear the water running, and my eyes close for a moment, relishing in the soothing sound. His footsteps on the wooden floor echo quietly as he climbs back onto the bed.
I don’t protest when he opens my thighs to clean between my legs. The first few times Matthias and I had sex, he foregoed any kind of aftercare unless it involved one of his many instruments. The simple gesture of a wet cloth makes my heart swell.
He throws the rag into the laundry basket and climbs back into bed, pulling the covers over both of us. Dragging my body into his, he wraps his arm around my middle and buries his nose in the crook of my neck.
I know I shouldn’t let this small gesture affect me. This could be another game, but as the warmth of his body seeps into mine and the sound of his breathing evens out, I realize that if it is another game, it is something for future Ava to deal with.
Right now, I want to bask in the comfort he is willingly providing. Even if it will later cripple my heart.