Page 76 of Matteo

Control was the one thing I always had to have—in everything. She noticed. As a submissive, she hoped I was already in the lifestyle so I could be her dominant. We already had the talk about me not looking for anything lasting. I was concerned about committing to something that would require a level of trust I believed she would need.

She shrugged and said she knew me well enough. All she needed was someone who was clean to tie her up and treat her like a whore for a few hours. She also wanted someone to tell her what to do so she didn’t have to think. The relationship lasted for almost three years before she met someone who matched her in every way and was interested in a long-term relationship.

Once our relationship ended, I didn’t seek out another in the lifestyle. While I enjoyed it, I preferred to keep things simple. I’ve found many women, especially women who had to be seen as in control and strong, longed to give up control in bed with a partner they trusted. A hand around their throat, their orgasm withheld if they didn’t follow instructions—being given instructions—was welcomed and made them wet. If a woman didn’t welcome it, I had no problem leashing it at the moment. But I never saw them again.

I’m grateful as hell that Amy welcomes it. I can’t wait to find out what else made her wet while she read. That is going to be fun.

Layla wasn’t the only one who needed to eat. We’re sitting down to dinner after I put Layla down for bed.

And we’re having an argument that I don’t want to have. I wanted her to be more accepting of this. But she’s only digging in her heels.

“I don’t want Layla to be a tablet kid or plopped in front of the television. If she’s with a nanny who is here in the condo with you at the same time, the nanny can engage her more and keep her occupied. It’s important to me that you have time for you.”

Her cute mouth opens to argue with me.

I hold up a hand to let me finish. “I don’t want you to wake up ten or twenty years from now resentful of me or Layla and wonder what if—for anything. But especially the art that gives you so much joy. I’ll take care of her when I’m home. I also want to have time with you. There’s no getting away from the fact that as the wife and mother, so much is going to be on you. I want you…”

“Matteo.”

I’m worried she’s annoyed with me, but her smile is indulgent and happy.

“You win.” The words are soft. “Also, I don’t think tablets are evil. I think they’re like televisions. If people are using them to watch the kids, so they don’t have to? Then yes, it’s bad. The same way I don’t want a nanny to raise our kids. I don’t want a tablet or television to watch our kids either.”

“You said you wanted me to knock you up.” She blushes all the way to her ears. I love it. “How many do you want? Three more for the four you wanted?”

“Yes, please. Is that all right? Are four too many?”

I shake my head. “There is nothing in this world I would rather do than fill you with our children. I think Layla will be an awesome big sister. Our children won’t need to be worried about being protected. We’ll do that.”

“Now that she’s asleep, let’s work on giving her a little brother or sister.”

She sighs. “I still need to finish cleaning up dinner. Five minutes.”

Shaking my head, I exhale. “I don’t like you cooking and cleaning. I hate you taking care of me.”

Her eyes go wide. “What?”

“I’m aware I should. For a minute when you told me you made me lunch that first day, I did. But I don’t like it. It makes my skin itch. I take care of you in everything. All those men who want their women to make them a sandwich turn my stomach even more now. I don’t even like when you bring my food to the table. I can only get through you bringing me lunch because I get to see you and Layla.”

Her head goes down. When she lifts her face to mine, tears are running down her face. It’s a kick to my chest. I’m out of my chair, and she’s in my arms.

She sighs. “If nothing else, hopefully, therapy will help me stop being such a crybaby.”

I pull back to look down on her. “Hey, I don’t want to hear you put yourself down like that. From your childhood alone, you went through tough shit. Then you had someone beat you so badly that you thought it was safer to run with a baby than to continue living in that environment. Now you’re waking up to all the ways he mentally and emotionally manipulated and abused you. If you didn’t cry over it, I would think something was wrong with you.”

“Every day, you have me falling deeper and deeper in love with you. Thank you for loving me and Layla.” Her love is glowing in her chocolate eyes. I swear my heart is going to burst outside my chest. “For years, all I’ve heard is that my worth was based on what I could be and do for a man. I felt like I needed to pay you back for…I don’t know being with me, loving me. Here you are, giving me a car, the art, the nanny. How can I pay you back for all of that?”

“You do pay me back—by loving me too. Your happiness makes me happy. It’s not about you cooking me dinner or making me lunch. And it sure as hell isn’t about you cleaning our home. Just you, it’s all you.”

Her small hand runs down my chest as one eyebrow goes up. “Are you sure there isn’t something else I could be doing to pay you back? Like you bending me over the island the way you fantasized—and I did more than a few times.”

I catch her hand and send my other hand into her hair. Pulling her back to meet my eyes, I shake my head. “I want nothing more than to bend you over right here right now. But I refuse to even joke about us making love as some sort of currency. There will be times when you aren’t up to making love, whether it’s because you’re tired, or once you’re pregnant and you don’t feel comfortable, or when you are on your period and don’t want to be touched. I never want there to be a time when it’s sex to satisfy me—not making love for the connection we both need.”

She glows like the sun. “I’m an idiot for never seeing how clearly you’ve loved me from that first day.”

“No, sweetheart, you were understandably slow to trust in what you saw. Say it. I need to hear it again.”

“I love you, Matteo Castillo. Will you please bend me over the island to fulfill the erotic fantasies I’ve had of you doing it?”

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