19. Matteo
Matteo
I’ve never been a patient man with anyone but her. And right now, with her wet and naked in my arms, I’m about to worship every fucking inch of her body until she can’t remember why she was crying.
The sheets have already been turned down. She stands there, looking small and uncertain, water droplets sliding down her purple hair onto her shoulders.
“On the bed,” I tell her, my voice brooking no argument.
She hesitates, just for a second, then climbs onto the mattress. I position her exactly how I want her—on her back, head on the pillows, legs slightly spread. Her skin is flushed pink from the hot shower, her nipples tight and dark against the creamy expanse of her breasts.
I start at her mouth, claiming her lips in a kiss that’s possessive but not rough. Her lips part for me automatically, and I slide my tongue against hers, tasting her, reminding her body who it belongs to even if her mind was trying to fight me earlier.
When I pull back, her eyes are still glazed.
“My woman,” I murmur against her throat, kissing my way down the elegant column of her neck. “Carrying my baby.”
She shivers beneath me, her body responding even as I feel the tension in her muscles. I nip at her collarbone, hard enough to make her gasp but not hard enough to mark. There will be time for marking later.
“These breasts,” I growl, cupping them in my hands. They’re already more sensitive. Her nipples are practically begging for my mouth. “They’re going to get so fucking big, stellina. So full of milk for our baby.”
She makes a small sound, half protest, half arousal. I ignore it, lowering my head to take one nipple between my lips. I suck gently, mindful of how tender she must be, rolling my tongue over the tight bud.
“Matteo,” she gasps, her back arching slightly.
“That’s it,” I praise, moving to her other breast. “Let go. Just feel.”
I work my way down her body, pausing at her stomach. This is where my baby grows, where our future takes root. I press my lips to the soft skin just below her navel, letting my stubble scrape lightly across her flesh.
I move lower, spreading her thighs wider with my hands. Her pussy is already glistening, her arousal betraying her even as she fights it. I breathe her in, loving the way she smells.
“Look at this pretty cunt,” I growl, thumbs spreading her lips to expose her completely. “So fucking wet for me already.”
“Matteo, I—” she starts, but I cut her off with a firm stroke of my tongue from her entrance to her clit.
“Shut up,” I command against her flesh. “No more talking. No thinking. Just pleasure.”
I settle between her thighs, my shoulders keeping her legs spread wide. She has nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. I’m going to make her come apart under my mouth until she forgets everything but my name.
The first proper taste of her makes my cock throb painfully against the mattress. I groan against her pussy; the vibration making her jerk beneath me. I lap at her slowly at first, broad strokes of my tongue that gather her wetness, savoring the taste of her.
“You’re so fucking sweet.”
Her hips buck up involuntarily, seeking more pressure, more friction. I hold her down with one forearm across her lower belly, keeping her exactly where I want her.
“Stay still,” I order. “Take what I give you.”
She whimpers, fingers clutching at the sheets. I can feel the tension in her thighs, the way she’s fighting to maintain control even as her body surrenders. I slide two fingers into her slick heat, curling them to find that spot that makes her see stars.
“Oh fuck,” she gasps, her back arching off the bed.
“There it is,” I praise, keeping the pressure steady as I work her with my mouth and fingers. “Good girl. Let me hear you.”
She’s getting wetter by the second, her arousal coating my chin, dripping down my wrist.
I can tell she’s close from the way her thighs tremble against my face, her pussy clenching around my fingers.
“Come for me,” I growl against her wet flesh. “Give it to me.”
Her body goes rigid, her back arching off the bed as she finally breaks.
Her pussy clamps down on my fingers like a vise, pulsing as she comes apart.
The sound she makes goes straight to my cock.
I don’t let up, working her through it, drinking down every drop of her release until she’s pushing at my head, oversensitive and gasping.
“Matteo, fuck,” she pants, her chest heaving. “I can’t—it’s too much.”
I give her one last, slow lick before pulling away, my beard glistening with her juices. She looks absolutely wrecked—hair wild, eyes unfocused, lips parted as she tries to catch her breath. Perfect.
“Stay right there,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh before climbing off the bed.
I walk to the closet, my cock bobbing heavy between my legs.
Inside, I grab one of the silk scarves I’ve bought her—emerald green, expensive as hell—and something else I’ve been saving for just the right moment.
The Persephone. I brought it here from her place, knowing I’d want to use it eventually.
Now seems like the perfect time to remind her exactly who she belongs to.
When I return to the bedroom, she’s exactly where I left her, sprawled across my sheets like a Renaissance painting. Her eyes track me lazily, still hazy from her orgasm. I climb back onto the bed, moving to straddle her waist, my cock resting hot and heavy against her stomach.
“Do you trust me?” I ask, dangling the scarf between my fingers.
She hesitates, just for a heartbeat, then nods. “Yes.”
The simple word makes my chest tighten. I lean down, brushing my lips against hers. “Good girl.”
I fold the scarf carefully, then place it over her eyes, tying it securely behind her head. Not too tight—I want her comfortable, not in pain.
“Can you see anything?” I ask, waving my hand in front of her face.
She shakes her head. “No.”
I stroke her cheek with my thumb. “If you need me to stop, say Hades. Understand?”
“Yes,” she whispers, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
I move off her, sitting back on my heels between her spread legs. I reach for the toy—that deep purple dildo she designed, almost the same size as my cock but with a wicked curve that hits all the right spots.
I run the smooth head of the purple toy along her slick folds, watching her body tense in anticipation. She can’t see what’s coming, and that’s exactly how I want it. The blindfold heightens everything—every touch, every sensation.
“You made this for women who don’t need men to get off,” I say, circling her entrance with the tip. “But I’m gonna show you that what you really need is me controlling this toy. Controlling your pleasure.”
I ease the first inch into her cunt, watching her mouth fall open in a silent gasp. She’s still sensitive from coming on my tongue, but I don’t give a fuck. I want to push her past her limits, make her surrender completely.
“Fuck,” she whimpers as I slide it deeper, the curved head dragging against her front wall.
“You like that, stellina?” I twist the toy slowly, watching her back arch off the bed. “Your pussy’s sucking it in like it’s starving.”
I work the dildo in and out, building a steady rhythm. Her hips start moving in sync with my thrusts, chasing the pleasure. I press the toy deeper, angling it to hit that spot that makes her thighs shake.
“Oh god,” she moans, hands fisting in the sheets.
“Not god, baby. Just me.” I lean down, my mouth at her ear. “Just your daddy making you feel good.”
Her pussy clenches around the toy at my words, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. I speed up my movements, fucking her harder with the Persephone while my thumb finds her clit.
“That’s it,” I growl as she writhes beneath me. “Take it. Show me how much you love getting fucked with your own creation.”
She’s panting now, chest heaving, a thin sheen of sweat making her skin glow. I can tell she’s getting close again—her inner walls fluttering around the toy, her movements becoming more desperate.
“Please,” she begs, the word barely audible.
“Please what?” I demand, slowing down until she whines in frustration. “Use your words, Contessa.”
“Please don’t stop,” she gasps, hips bucking up. “I need—I need—”
“You need to come?” I twist the toy, hitting a new angle that makes her cry out. “Not yet. First, tell me who this pussy belongs to.”
She bites her lip, stubborn even now. I pull the dildo almost all the way out, leaving just the tip teasing her entrance.
“You know what I want to hear,” I say, my voice low and dangerous.
“You,” she finally whispers, the admission dragged from somewhere deep inside her. “It belongs to you, Matteo.”
“That’s right.” I reward her by slamming the toy back in, setting a punishing pace that has her gasping for air. My cock is throbbing painfully, pre-cum leaking onto the sheets, but I don’t care. All I care about is making her fall apart completely.
“Look at you taking this dick so well,” I growl, watching her pussy stretch around the thick purple toy. “So fucking greedy for it.”
I angle the toy upward, making sure it hits her G-spot with every thrust. Her body is trembling, sweat glistening on her skin, her tits bouncing with each impact. I’m driving her higher and higher, watching her climb toward that peak.
I can feel her getting wetter, her arousal dripping down onto the sheets beneath her.
“That’s it. Let go. Give it to me,” I command, fucking her faster, harder, my wrist starting to ache from the effort. But I don’t slow down—not when she’s this close, not when she’s writhing and moaning like a fucking dream.
“Matteo! Fuck, oh my god, fuck,” she cries out, her entire body shaking with the force of her orgasm.
I don’t stop, don’t give her time to recover. I keep the toy moving, slower now but still hitting that spot inside her that makes her squirm. She’s making these little broken sounds, halfway between sobs and moans, her hands clutching desperately at the sheets.
“One more,” I tell her, not a request but a statement of fact. “You can give me one more.”