Page 92 of Matteo

“Every damn inch of you.” Is blasted like a tattoo into the skin of my neck seconds before his teeth mark me. “From your cute fucking toes to the top of your hair that looks so pretty wrapped around my hand. Will they know from the mark what a dirty girl you can be for me? Will they be able to tell you begged me to fuck you, use you for my pleasure? Do you want them to know? Hm? Do you want them to know you love your ass spanked? That your pussy gushed like a water hose when I slapped your mons. They see a good girl in public, but I know you’re so very naughty that you beg for my come and my cock.”

His words are driving me crazy. I’m frantic, close, so fucking close—only I can’t reach it. “Harder. Please, Matteo. Fuck me harder.”

“There she is, my greedy girl. I love it when you beg for what you need. I’ll give it to you.” Those hands at my hips lift me up, and oh my fucking god, right fucking there.

Harder, so fucking hard the pain adds to the pleasure. There are no more words only the pounding of our bodies loud around us. It’s rough, dirty, and so mind-blowing. And I fight not to surrender to the black all around me as he fills me with his wet heat. My body is still trembling from the aftershocks of my orgasm when he pulls out of me.

No, I want to shout. The part I love the most after my orgasm is when he stays inside me—so I can feel his heart beating inside me—in time with my own.

Without him holding me up, I sink to my knees at his feet. His eyes are closed, his head back as he fights for air. God, even limp, I can’t believe how thick and long his cock is. The sight of his cock gleaming with our shared come fills me with longing and sends my tongue out to taste him, us.

A hand is in my hair, gold glittering wide in surprise. I hold the gold as I lick the head of his cock. Hmm…it’s salty and oddly sweet to me. This is us. I want more. I don’t attempt to take his cock in my mouth. I clean every inch of him—the taste of us is sweet to me. This man is mine. Dirty, rough, and tender, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

CHAPTER 28

Amy

While I couldn’t do as good a job as the woman at the counter did, I’m proud of how good my makeup looks the night of the event.

Matteo frowns. “I don’t remember your tits looking so damn good in that dress.”

I’m trying not to laugh. “They’re as covered up as they can be.”

The frown deepens. “I don’t think I like the idea of us going after all. Both Javier and Rafe are going. Let’s stay home.”

“Matteo, I spent all this time getting ready. Please, can we go?” I plead.

Gold darkens. “Fine. As long as you remember your promises to me.”

I never did talk to Hillary about how wet his jealousy made me—especially when I liked it so much. My clit is tingling at the mere memory, or maybe it’s from the hope of another session like the first. “I promise.”

We give Layla kisses before leaving, promising Doris we’ll be home before ten.

Matteo opens the back door of the limo for me. We’re being driven tonight so he can have a glass or two of champagne. When the car stops, I can’t believe it. It’s an actual red carpet. Rich, rich.

“This is city hall? Why is it so ugly?” It looks like a reverse pyramid, wider at the top than the bottom.

Chuckling, “That was pretty standard for architecture in the late seventies when this was originally built. We didn’t do the initial build, just the update.”

Inside, there is an enormous wide-open foyer. “My painting.”

Rafe is holding court in front of the painting he bought from me. “You’re going to need an agent. There are a few here who would love to talk to you. I gifted it to the city of Dallas. Looks good here, don’t you think?”

The arm Matteo has around me tightens. A white card beside it has the name Amy Castillo and the title of the painting I gave the man who came to get it. “Amy Castillo? Rafe, what if she wanted to go by her maiden name?”

It’s another shock, a wonderful one. It wasn’t Matteo who made the assumption I would go by Amy Castillo as an artist. I wrap my arms around him. “Thank you for caring. I do want to go by Castillo.”

Rafe’s chuckle is loud. “I never doubted it for a moment. The same way I knew Kevin Broussard is looking to add a new artist to his portfolio.”

“You’re just…giving me a career.” I don’t know how I feel.

“Not in the least. Art is subjective except for one thing—it makes you feel something. If it doesn’t, there’s nothing I can say or do to get someone to buy it. Besides, what’s the use in having a billionaire for a brother if he doesn’t use his position to help you out a little?” His shrug is casual.

Before we leave two hours later, I meet with Kevin Broussard. He wants to represent me. From Rafe, I found that the man is one of the top agents in Texas. Rafe also assured Matteo that Kevin had a long-time male partner.

I think of Hope’s words as she hugged me goodbye all the way home: “I love seeing Matteo in complete and total adoration of you. I never thought I would see it from Matteo. He was just always so...like smiling wasn’t allowed. I like this Matteo better than who he was before he met you.”

I understand what she means since I was what she described him as before I met him—cold and empty. I’m grateful we found each other.

---