Page 68 of Gilded Princess

He halts me with a hand around my fingers. “I did. Twice. I could hear you moaning, and I thought you were in trouble.”

Pushing onto my tiptoes to get closer to his face, I whisper, “Liar.”

“Did you need something or did you just come to cockblock me?” Leo asks, voice hard and louder than it needs to be.

I slide my fingers from Matteo’s grip and walk around him out of the doorway. I hear their voices as I make my way down the hallway, but it’s too quiet for me to make it out. I can hazard a guess that some of it is at least about me.

But Leo really shouldn’t worry about Matteo. It’s been years since we were together. I know that I called him when I was panicking and scared, but I’m choosing not to examine those feelings right now.

Instead, I’m focusing on how good Leo and Dante—and Aries—make me feel. Hell, if Matteo plays his cards right, I might even be persuaded to let him join in on the fun.

And that’s all it’ll be—fun.

Something to remember when I’m married to some douchebag with a side piece and more money than decency. Or you know, when I’m old and gray.

I can’t afford to have feelings for all these men beyond a general caring. Anything more than that would be emotional suicide for me. Once feelings get involved, then everything goes to shit.

And then they leave.

They always do.

So this time I’m wrapping my heart in a thick layer of bubble wrap and burying it under a mountain of lust.

That’s a much safer emotion.

I make it to my room before my adrenaline crashes and the trembling comes. Holy hell. I kind of can’t believe I just did that. I feel like a badass bitch who can conquer the world.

Damn. Is this how Lainey feels all the time? Or Blaire? They just take what they want and actually enjoy it?

It’s a whole new world, living for yourself and not others. I press my fingers to my lips to smother the giddy, post-orgasmic laugh that’s bubbling up my chest. I didn’t really have a plan when I went knocking on his door, other than to make sure he understood. Honestly, I’m not really sure that he does. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, his fingers were inside me and I was riding that bliss.

I collapse on my bed back-first with a smile on my face. The quiet hum of the bathroom fan lulls me into that space between sleep and wake, where my thoughts tangle up between four very different men.

My eyes drift closed, thoughts slowing down into a pleasant thrum, and I slip into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Matteo

Blood thunders in my ears, mimicking the rage pounding my veins. I clench my hands, murder in my gaze as I face my brother. Finally, I hear the click of Maddie’s door, my signal that she’s out of earshot.

I’m across the room in seconds, fisting Leo’s shirt and hauling him off the bed. A cocky smile that looks a lot like my father’s spreads across his face, and I shove him back down. He lands on the bed with a laugh.

“That’s it, old man? That’s all the fight you got?”

His taunt hits the mark, but it serves as a reminder that I’m not my father. I won’t use my fists instead of my words.

Not first, at least. If he doesn’t calm the fuck down with his taunts, I won’t be held liable for what I do. And last time I checked, Dante was out running an errand, so he won’t be intervening this time either.

I back up a few steps, running my hand through my hair and staring at my little brother. “What the fuck are you doing?”

The laughter falls from his face so fast it’s like I imagined it. “Me? What the fuck are you doing creeping inside my room when I have my girl in here? And don’t even think about feeding me that bullshit line about thinking she was in trouble, because we all know it’s a fucking lie.”

I nod, straightening my shoulders and fixing my sleeves. It’s a bullshit power move, and we both know it. “You’re right. The truth is that she was mine long before she was yours.” I stare at him for a moment, giving him a moment to prepare for the weight of my next words. “And she’ll always fucking be mine.”

He holds my gaze, ever the fucking challenger. “She doesn’t feel like yours, brother. She feels like a sunflower in a sea of crabgrass—soft and delicate and mine.”

My fingers twitch, itching to inflict pain on anyone or anything to stop the pain from lancing through my chest at his words. I lock down my emotions, trapping them underneath layers of chain to deal with another day. Or never.

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