Page 183 of Phantom Mine

His cock pulses, jerked by my convulsing tightness, and then I feel warm jets of cum hit my walls. His hand circles around to my nape. His fingers tighten and he pushes, forcing me back down on the desk.

We stay like this for at least a minute—me, bent over the altar, him standing behind me, keeping me pinned against the surface with his cock still buried inside me. We both work to catch our breaths as our racing hearts slowly steady.

Finally, he pulls out of me. To my surprise, he’s still rock hard as he slides out.

“Spread your cheeks,” he demands, his voice frayed. “I want to see my cum drip out of your ass.”

With a lewd groan, I do as he says. He kneels between my legs, palming my upper thighs. I yelp softly when his tongue swipes up my slit and circles my stretched rim.

“Mmm,” he mumbles earnestly, “Nothing tastes better than us together.”

Matteo continues his indecent dance over my ass, licking up our combined juices as they spill out of me. His tongue moves with rapacious hunger, his mouth parting only to grunt happily against my flesh. He avoids my clit and yet I feel that just dormant desire start to stir as swirls of arousal rise within me.

He’s going to make me come again if he continues, so I push back against the palm he uses to pin my neck and attempt to straight.

Matteo’s hand doesn’t budge. Instead, he’s the one who stands. “Where do you think you’re going?”

A delicious shiver rushes down my spine at his tone. “I don’t…” I swallow thick. “I thought we were done.”

Matteo angles his hips forward slightly. His cock bumps up against my cheeks and I feel how hard he is. His length is pulsing and throbbing with need.

“I said I’d stop when your ass had milked every drop of cum from my cock,” he explains darkly as his head stretches my rim and my walls submit to him once more. “I’m nowhere near finished with you.”

He doesn’t let me leave that church until he’s come inside my ass two more times. By then, he has to carry me out because I can no longer walk.

Chapter Fifty

Valentina

Matteo and I were never really a secret. His numerous and ostentatious displays of jealousy made keeping our relationship under wraps impossible. Key members of the Famiglia knew, as did the dancers and most of the VIP regulars, and yet we never openly flaunted the fact that we were together.

So the overnight change in how he flaunts our relationship is a shock, although not an unwelcome one. Matteo can’t keep his hands off me in public. His palm either warms the small of my back, curls around my waist, or, his favorite, entwines with mine. It’s like refusing to hold his hand at the beginning of our relationship unleashed a monster, one that can only be tamed by the joining of our hands.

No matter where we are, I’m not allowed to sit anywhere but on his lap. It’s been inappropriate numerous times, including at his father’s funeral when he refused to have me sit on the pew beside him, but I can’t even pretend not to love his obsession with me.

It’s returned a million-fold, more than Matteo could ever imagine. I’ve become dependent on him in a way that feels unhealthy. Even as I realize how deeply enmeshed I am with my fiancé, I can’t do anything to resist the pull to go deeper still. The shackles previously wrapped around my heart have dropped and I’m finally free tofeel.

Feel it all, and there’s so much love there.

He doesn’t seem to regret his decision to give up theFamiglia. I constantly watch him when we’re atFirenzewith Enzo like we are now, but his face betrays no signs of distress. He seems happy with the role reversal, content to be an advisor to his cousin.

Their relationship is incredibly important to Matteo. I’m convinced it’s because it was Enzo who was next in line to beDonthat the decision wasn’t painful for him. There’s no one else he’d have moved aside for.

Enzo, meanwhile, is trying to find his footing. He was used to being Matteo’s shadow, the one who operated and struck from the sides. Finding himself thrust onto center stage with theFamigliato run and a fiancée to marry has certainly been a moment of adaptation for him. He’s done well in only a matter of days, but he seems distracted.

“What’s on your mind?” Matteo asks his cousin, somehow reading my thoughts.

I press a kiss to his cheek in silent reward for his question and Matteo growls happily. His hands tighten around my waist and pull me further on his lap.

Like I said, I’m not allowed to sit anywhere else.

“Nothing,” Enzo grunts, shuffling papers in front of him. “I’m annoyed. We just got notice thatFirenzeneeds to close for the day Monday for a mandatory inspection.”

“And that’s the source of your bad mood…why,exactly?”

“Who says I’m in a bad mood?” he snaps.

“The fact that you’re frowning so much your brows are just about level with your lips,” I explain.

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