He goes crazy on the bag, not stopping until his entire body is wrapped around it. He’s breathing so hard that I’m worried he’ll pass out from exertion.
His knuckles are an angry red and bleeding, and I know if I don’t stop him from hitting the bag, he might go as far as breaking his hands.
So, I peel his hands and arms off the bag and thread our fingers together. His body is slick with sweat, but I don’t care. I pull him into my arms, wrapping him up in a hug, and he drops to the ground, taking me with him.
“I’m right here.” I brush his sweaty hair away from his eyes. “You don’t need to hurt yourself. I’m right here.”
I straddle his muscular thighs, and his fingers dig into my hips.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He nuzzles his face into my neck. “That’s why I came in here. I never want to fucking hurt you, Sweetness.”
“And you never will,” I tell him, framing his face in my hands and pulling his head back so our eyes meet. “You said you fight and fuck to control your emotions. Well, I’m here, so fuck me, Matteo.”
He stares at me for several seconds, and my stomach drops when I think he’s going to push me away. But then his mouth crashes against mine in a punishing kiss, and my lady parts clench in desire.
His fingers delve into my hair, fisting the strands as he deepens the kiss. Nipping, sucking, licking, biting. He feasts on my mouth before he tugs my head back and trails open-mouthed kisses along my jawline and up my neck, stopping at the shell of my ear.
“I can’t be gentle,” he murmurs. “I’m too worked up. Are you sure this is what you want, Little Russo?”
A shiver races down my spine at my nickname. He uses it when he wants to remind himself who I am, but I’m not going to let him push me away.
Yes, I’m Lorenzo’s sister.
I’m several years younger than Matteo.
He’s part of this scary world that I shouldn’t want to be a part of.
But I love Matteo, and until he forces me away, I’m going to be right here, by his side.
He must take my lack of response as reluctance because he startsto lift me off him, but before he can, I clamp my thighs around him, refusing to let go.
Maybe I should be more hesitant after what Enrique put me through, but Matteo isn’t him. He isn’t taking me against my will to hurt me. He’s asking my permission, and I’m going to willingly give myself over to him.
“Yes,” I tell him, pulling back to look into his dark blue eyes. “I trust you, Matteo. Do whatever you need to do.”
His lips capture mine once again, and our mouths curl around each other for what feels like minutes, maybe hours, as he pours every ounce of emotion into the kiss.
When he pulls back, his eyes are somehow even darker, like the deepest part of the ocean. They meet mine for a second before he tugs my shirt over my head and then reaches around and unclasps my bra, exposing my breasts to the cool air. My nipples harden in response, and he smirks down at them.
He takes one into his mouth, swirls his tongue around it gently, and bites down on it, causing me to gasp as the pleasure, mixed with pain, courses through my body.
He does the same thing to my other nipple, and I rub my center against him, craving the friction.
He lets go of my nipple and then lifts me into his arms and walks us over to the bench where he lifts weights. He lays me across it and then walks over to the end and peels the yoga pants, which Peyton lent me, and my panties down my legs, discarding them to the side.
“So fucking beautiful.” He spreads my legs so my pussy is completely exposed to him. “And already so wet.”
He drags the tip of his finger down my slit and then slaps the top of my pussy, making me jump. He does it again and again, until I’m a writhing mess, wondering if it’s possible to orgasm from this alone.
“I should bend you over and spank your ass.” He pushes two fingers roughly into me. “Do you have any idea how scared I was?”
His eyes meet mine, and goose bumps spread across my bodyas he confirms that he is in fact mad that I was taken. And not just at the person who took me, but at me for letting it happen.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out. “I didn’t?—”
He slaps the top of my pussy again, and I cry out.
“It’s my job to protect you,” he mutters, his gaze locked with mine, “and I failed.”
