The rawness in his tone causes tears to prick my eyes, but I blink them away, knowing now is not the time. He needs me to be strong, to help him work through all the emotions he’s struggling with.
Before I can argue that he didn’t fail, he flips me over onto my hands and knees. I’ve barely steadied myself when a loud crack hits the air at the same time his palm lands on my left ass cheek.
“Do you have any idea how fucking scared I was?” he breathes out, his voice shaky. “Thinking I was never going to see you again.”
His hand connects with my right cheek, and I hiss at the painful pleasure his smack emits.
“I told you not to leave your guard, but you didn’t listen,” he chokes out.
And it hits me …
He’s not madatme. He’s mad that he couldn’t protect me. He’s mad at the lack of control he has. He doesn’t know how to deal with the feelings he has for me. And I get it because I’ve never felt so strongly for anyone the way I feel for Matteo.
“Matteo, I’m sorry,” I cry out when he spanks my ass again.
“Sorry wouldn’t have stopped you from being killed,” he says, rubbing the area he just smacked. “It doesn’t stop the ache that I feel in my chest every time I think about you sitting in that metal fucking chair, tied up.”
Another smack and then another. The pain has now turned into pleasure, the area between my legs tingling, as if he has a direct line to my pussy, and with each smack on my ass, I get more and more turned on.
I wait for another swat to come, welcoming it, but instead, hereaches over and tugs on my hair, pulling my head back so I’m forced to look at him.
“I don’t know what to do with these feelings,” he croaks out, his nearly black eyes boring into mine. “I want to burn this fucking city down to find the person who took you. I want to send you away so you aren’t a part of this world anymore …”
He brings his face close to mine, tightening his hold on my hair, and I sniffle back my tears as realization hits—I was taken, and I could’ve been killed. Up until now, I was numb from what happened, but seeing the devastation in his eyes, hearing them in his words, I feel every raw emotion.
“But more than anything,” he says, “I want to hold you so fucking close and never let you go. I love you, Dani, and I don’t know what the hell to do with that.”
He leans over and captures my mouth in a drugging kiss that has my heart racing in my chest and my legs clenching in want.
And then his mouth is gone, and before I can beg him to come back and kiss me again, he’s pushing his shorts down.
He pulls his erection out as he warns me to hold on, and then he grips my hips and thrusts into me so hard and deep that I couldn’t tell you where he ends and I begin.
Unlike the other times when we’ve had sex, where he makes sure I get off, he brings me to the brink of my orgasm, only to take it away.
“Matteo, please,” I beg.
“You want to come?” he asks, his fingers biting into my flesh as he fucks me with abandon. “Do you think you deserve to come?” he hisses. “You made me fall in love with you, and then you almost took it away.”
I’m so close, but every time I’m about to fall off the edge, he changes positions, and my climax disappears before I can hold on to it.
“Why should I let you come, Little Russo?” he bites out over the sound of our heated flesh smacking against each other. “Don’t you understand that I can’t live without you?”
“Matteo,” I cry out, so close to coming that my stomach is cramping and the area between my legs is pulsing. “Please, I promise I’ll never leave you again.”
I know, realistically, I can’t make promises like that, but in the moment, I tell myself I can because I’d do anything for Matteo to never look at me the way he did when he told me he wanted to send me away to keep me safe. To never hear the heartache in his voice when he told me he wanted to hold me and never let me go.
Matteo doesn’t respond with words, but his thrusts turn purposeful, hitting the sweet spot deep within me, and within minutes, I’m screaming out his name as he fills me with his cum.
I’m about to collapse onto the bench, my legs unable to hold me up any longer, when he pulls out and lifts me into his arms, cradling me close.
He carries me to the bathroom, where he sets me on the vanity and steps between my legs.
“I love you,” he murmurs against my lips. “And I can’t live in this world without you.”
I swallow down the lump of emotion that’s lodged in my throat. “I love you, Matteo,” I choke out. “And I need you to know that no matter what the future holds, I would never willingly leave you.”
“Sweetness, you have to wake up.”
