Page 72 of Cage of Thorns and Blood

For one awful moment, I think he's going to do me harm. Then I dismiss the idea. Matteo won't hurt me that way ever. He'll destroy me in every other way; I'm sure of it. Physically, though? No.

He takes the letter opener and turns it around. The top of it is a shiny sleek orb, followed by a long thick circular shaft, until around a third of the way down, there's a bejewelled section before the sharp blade begins.

“This letter opener, costs over one hundred thousand pounds,” he says. “I always thought it was something of a useless trinket, but now, I think it may have its use.”

He slides it down my dress, and when he reaches my parted thighs, he brushes that cool, smooth metal orb over my clit.

I gasp, and he rolls it over me mercilessly until I'm desperate for more. Then he takes that extortionately expensive toy and pushes it slowly, dreadfully, inside me. This is what I've been wanting, from his fingers, his tongue, or his cock. But this object feels so depraved.

It's cold and unyielding as it slips inside, and as he slowly pushes it deeper, and the thick, round shaft of it penetrates me, I'm blindsided by an unexpected and violent orgasm.

“Look at your beautiful pussy sucking this deeper. You’re so perfect. Your wet softness around it. How does it feel to be fucked by a twenty-four-carat gold Greek antiquity?”

I almost sob at how good it feels.

“I’m going to stick this in your ass while I fuck your pussy,” he snarls.

He’s feral and right on the edge of snapping any remaining control he has.

“You have to get back out there,” I pant as reality crashes over me. “You can't spend the whole night in here with me. There's no time to stick your fancy letter opener in my ass, you lunatic. How ready are you to blow?”

“Very ready.”

“Then fuck me. Fuck me hard and fast before you go back out there.”

I reach for his zipper and pull it open. I take him out, marvelling at the thickness of him. “God, your cock is a better work of art than that letter opener.”

He laughs as he leans down and bites my jaw gently. Then he licks along my jaw to my throat and my ear before he bites down again.

“Fuck me, Matteo,” I moan.

He does. He pulls the letter opener out of me, making me cry out. I see stars when he thrusts deep and hard straight away. He grabs my hips and pulls me closer to the edge of the desk, and he loses it.

Matteo Mancini loses that control he’s so famous for, and he fucks me like a possessed animal. He fucks me so hard, the noises I make feel knocked out of me. The desk moves, and I want to scream out my pleasure. The thought of his men out there stops me.

“Don’t do that. Let it out,” he says.

“What are you?” I gasp. “A mind reader?”

“When it comes to you. Yes. I have a Doctorate in Renata Andretti. I’ve been stalking you long enough.”

“You’re sick.” I muffle a cry at a deep thrust.

“You love it. Let it out, Renata. Let them hear. Who gives a fuck. Let them know you’re mine. The way I should have done all those years ago.” He reaches between our bodies and pinches my clit, then he slaps my pussy, and I lose it.

I scream for him. I’ve never screamed like this for a man before.

“Jesus fuck, Renata.” He thrusts deep and then stills as he pours himself into me.

“Fuck me,” I gasp. “What the hell was that?”

“That, my darling wife-to-be, was chemistry.”

He helps me off the desk and smooths my dress down as I simultaneously try to get my tits back in it.

When he’s satisfied I look presentable, he steps back.

“We’re not really getting married,” I say with a laugh. “But I’ll hang for a while.”

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