Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Matteo
She scrambles onto the table like a good fucking girl, her body moving without question, thighs parting just enough to tease me with a glimpse of everything I’m about to corrupt.
The cold surface makes her flinch, but she doesn’t say a word.
She just leans back on her hands, chest heaving, lips parted, eyes wide with that mix of want and surrender that drives me wild.
My cock’s hard, throbbing with every breath she takes. I tell myself not to touch it.
Not yet.
Not until I’ve earned it. But one look at her, and my hand’s already wrapping around my cock, giving it a stroke, needing the feel of it to keep from losing control.
She deserves to be devoured first. Ruined properly. With my mouth, hands, tongue. Every fucking part of me wants to taste her before I even think about sinking inside her. Because when I finally do… I’m not fucking stopping until she forgets how to beg for anything but me.
I step between her legs, dragging my hand up her thigh. Slow enough to make her squirm. She’s soaked already, dripping, and I haven’t even touched her properly yet.
“You’re fucking trembling,” I mutter, voice low and rough, thick with promise. “And I haven’t even put my mouth on you yet.”
I sink to my knees without flinching. No shame in it. No hesitation. She’s the only one who’s ever made me fall this hard. The only one who’s ever owned me without even trying.
This isn’t surrender. It’s control. Because even on my knees, I own every fucking second of this. And she knows it.
Her breath hitches and her hips shift forward like her body already knows what’s coming.
I lean in, breath hot against the mess between her thighs, close enough to taste the want dripping off her.
“Let me make this crystal fucking clear,” I grit out.
“I’m not here to tease. I’m not here to play.
I’m gonna make you come on my tongue. Not once.
Not twice. I’m gonna eat this pretty little pussy until you’re soaking this fucking table.
Until your legs give out and all you can do is whimper my name like it’s the only word you can remember.
” I drag my tongue slow over my bottom lip, eyes locked on hers.
“Then maybe…maybe I’ll think about giving you my cock. ”
She lets out a sound, half whimper, half moan and that’s all I fucking need. My grip tightens around her thighs as I drag her to the edge of the table. She belongs there. Right here. Spread wide. Mine to feast on. And right now… I’m going to fucking prove it.
My face hovers just above that tiny scrap of lace. It’s soaked, clinging, pointless really because it’s not hiding a damn thing.
I breathe her in.
Fuck. That scent slams into me, sweet, hot, soaked in need. I close my eyes, just for a second, and breathe her in. Filling my lungs with what already belongs to me. Because she does. Every desperate inch.
She shifts. Just a twitch in her thighs. But I see it. Feel it. She’s panting already, trying like hell to stay still.
I look up at her, my lips curl into a wicked smirk.
“You smell like heaven,” I say.
I hook a finger through the waistband of her panties, eyes locked on hers. No hesitation. No mercy. I tear that soaked little scrap in half. It never stood a chance.
Her bare, glistening pussy hits me, pure adrenaline straight to my cock. I drag my stare down, drinking her in, jaw clenched with restraint I have no intention of keeping.
“And I’m about to fucking destroy it,” I bite out. “You’re so beautiful,” I snarl, voice rough as sandpaper, my hands tightening around her thighs as I shove them further apart. “Now keep those legs wide open, be a good little slut, and let me taste every filthy inch you’ve been keeping from me.”
And then I’m on her. Mouth pressed to her pussy, starved, desperate. My tongue drags through her heat, slow at first, filthy and possessive. I’m not just eating her. I’m owning her. One fucking mouthful at a time.
She moans, loud and unfiltered. Her fingers claw for the edge of the table, back arching, hips twitching like she can’t help herself.
Good.
Let her feel what she does to me. But I’m not stopping. Hell, I’ve barely even started. She wanted the storm…I’m about to tear her world apart.
I drag my tongue over her again… long, slow, filthy, from the slick heat of her entrance all the way to the top, pausing at her clit just long enough to make her whimper.
Then I pull away. “Stay still,” I command, voice low and razor-sharp. “You move before I say, and I’ll fucking stop.”
My grip tightens, pinning her open, mouth hovering just above the place she’s already throbbing for me.
“Be good, baby,” I murmur, lips brushing her skin, “or you won’t get to come on my face until I say so.”
She freezes, breath caught, thighs twitching, her whole body strung tight beneath my grip.
So fucking perfect.
I smirk. And then I get to work.
I flatten my tongue and drag it through her slowly. Long deliberate strokes. I don’t rush. I don’t need to. Every flick of my tongue is a statement. A claim.
She whimpers, her hips trying to rise, but my hands lock tighter around her thighs, keeping her pinned wide open for me. She’s at my mercy… exactly where she belongs.
I lick her again and again. Slower this time, just to feel her shudder. Just to hear the way her breath turns into broken little moans. Her thighs quake when I circle her clit, lazy, teasing, just enough pressure to make her gasp and not nearly enough to let her come.
Her pussy’s soaked, trembling under my mouth, and all I can think is how fucking good she tastes. How she’s dripping for me like her body knows I’m the only one who gets to have it.
I keep circling her clit. Slow, lazy strokes, tongue working her like she’s the only thing I’ll ever want in my mouth again.
She gasps. Hips twitch. But she doesn’t move.
Good girl, she’s fucking learning.
I groan against her, the sound rumbling deep in my chest and vibrating straight through her soaked pussy.
She cries out. It’s sharp, broken, and perfect.
It’s a sound that wrecks me. A sound I’ll chase until she’s trembling and begging for more.
“Already so fucking sweet,” I mutter against her pussy, licking her again. This time slower, more filthier.
I slip my tongue down, teasing her entrance before dragging it back up, just to flick her clit and hear that sound that tears from her throat.
“You keep dripping like this,” I growl, licking harder, licking deeper, “I’ll be down here all fucking night.”
And I mean every goddamn word. Because this… This isn’t about getting her off. It’s not even about making her come until her legs stop working. It’s about possessing her. Tongue first. Cock second.
Because she doesn’t get to just feel this. She gets to remember it. Every time she breathes. Every time she closes her eyes. Every time she thinks of pleasure… It’s me.
She’s gasping, her legs trembling in my grip, body teetering on the edge, seconds from snapping.
Every time my tongue flicks over that swollen little clit, she lets out a broken sound. It’s breathy, like she’s being torn apart from the inside. And fuck, I feel her fighting it. Trying to behave. Trying to be good.
I pull back just enough to blow a slow, warm breath over her soaked pussy, watching it twitch, every nerve in her body mine to command.
Then I drag my tongue up the center, sucking her clit with just the right pressure to make her writhe. Her taste floods my mouth, the only thing I was ever meant to consume. She was made to come on my tongue.
I’m not just feasting on her. I’m fucking memorizing her. Claiming every inch of her pussy with my mouth.
She lets out a whimper. It’s soft, shattered, soaked in need.
“Say it,” I growl, lips brushing her inner thigh, voice sharp and low like a promise she better keep. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”
Her head tips back, fingers clawing into the table like she’s holding on for dear life.
“You, Matteo,” she moans, voice breaking. “It’s fucking yours.”
That’s all I need. I snarl, before I slam my mouth back on her, no teasing, no mercy, just pure fucking hunger.
My tongue’s unrelenting, worshiping her. She’s the altar, and I’m the sinner who finally found salvation. I lick her with purpose, with need. This is where I belong. Just filthy devotion, over and over, until she falls apart for me.
I wrap my lips around her clit and suck hard.
My tongue rolls over her, working her in a rhythm that’s punishing and perfect.
Her hips jerk, thighs clamping around my head, desperate, shaking, caught between ecstasy and overload.
She doesn’t know how to survive this, and I don’t let her try.
I grip her tighter, holding her exactly where I want her. Right here. Right on the edge.
“Don’t come,” I growl against her. “You come before I say, and I’ll fucking edge you until you’re crying for it. All fucking night.”
She lets out a cry, muffled by her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, her body practically screaming for release. But I don’t let up.
I fuck her with my tongue, slow at first. Then hard and fast. Switching pace just to watch her twitch. Just to hear her pant my name like a prayer that only I answer.
She’s soaked. Shaking. Desperate. She’s trembling so hard, it’s a miracle she hasn’t come already, right here on my fucking tongue.
Her legs are locked tight around my shoulders, thighs shaking, her whole body riding the edge like it’s about to break. Her hips twitch, trying to grind against me, instinctual, and if I wasn’t holding her down, she’d be fucking my face right now.
Every time I touch her clit just right, she gasps a sharp, broken, breathless little sound that only makes me hungrier. She’s right there. I can feel it.
In the way her pussy flutters against my tongue. I glance up through my lashes and fuck me, she’s gone. Her eyes are glassy. Her chest is heaving. Her lips part around silent moans. She’s ruined. Unraveled. Feral for it. And it’s the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
I slide a finger into her. It’s slick, hot, gripping me. Then I add another, stretching her open, fucking her slow and deep while my tongue keeps working her clit.
Her whole body twitches, too sensitive to take it, too desperate to want anything else. Then I curl my fingers just right, pressing into that spot that makes her legs jump and her hips jerk off the table.
I do it again.
Deeper.
Harder.
Faster.
Her walls clench around me, pulsing—her pussy trying to pull me in, keep me there, make me part of her fucking soul.
She moans, the sound torn from her lips as she slips out of reality.
“Come for me,” I growl, voice a razor scraping across her skin. “Now.”
She doesn’t just come, she fucking detonates.
Her body locks up first, spine arching off the table like she’s being torn in two. A cry rips out of her throat. Then she falls apart on my tongue.
Her pussy clamps around my fingers so tight like it’s trying to hold onto me, trying to keep me there while the orgasm tears through her, a goddamn storm.
Her legs tremble, then jerk. Then shake.
I don’t care. Her whole body convulses, again and again, every muscle short-circuiting under the weight of it.
This isn’t just release, it’s collapse. Total surrender.
And I don’t fucking stop. Not while she’s twitching. Not while she’s sobbing my name like it’s the only thing she remembers.
Her hand flies to my hair, pulling hard enough to make me growl. She’s loud, wild, fucking feral with it.
“Stay with me, baby,” I mutter against her. “Don’t run from it.”
I hold her through it, licking her slowly, my tongue dragging over her clit just to feel her twitch. To hear her whimper through the overstimulation. Her hips try to twist away as if it's too much, but I hold her tight, keeping her right there.
She gasps, legs trembling uncontrollably, her whole body flushed, wrecked and drenched.
When Emery finally collapses against the table, boneless and trembling, she’s panting like I’ve fucked her into another world.
I rise slow, unhurried, every muscle vibrating with satisfaction. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, my eyes never leaving her, already plotting how I’ll break her all over again.
She’s still all over me. I can taste her. Feel her. Breathe her.
And my cock… It’s a fucking riot, straining, throbbing. Painful in a way that dares me to lose control. I haven’t even touched myself, and I’m already riding the edge like I could snap with a single stroke.
I look down at her. She’s so perfect. Hair wild. Lips swollen. Chest rising and falling, still chasing breath. Her thighs are spread wide for me, glistening and open—her body unwilling to close, unwilling to forget. Even now, after everything, she’s mine. Still offering. Still needing. Still mine.
And fuck if I’m not about to take it.
“You have no idea what you’ve just fucking done to me,” I snarl, grabbing her jaw hard enough she feels it, tilting her face up until her eyes lock with mine. “And don’t get comfortable, because I’m not even close to being done with you.”
Her eyes flutter open. There glazed. Like she’s floating somewhere between bliss and breakdown.
And that look tells me everything. She’d let me take her again and again. Until her legs give out. Until her voice breaks. Until the only thing she knows is the way I had her falling to pieces.
And now that I’ve started… I’m not stopping until she’s ruined for anyone else. Until every part of her aches with the memory of what I did to her. Until her body knows the difference between being fucked and being owned.