Page 105 of Ruined By Protection
I settle between his powerful thighs, my heart picking up speed with every beat of anticipation. I start with light kisses along his inner thigh, teasing him, building both his desire and my courage. His skin is hot to my lips and I can feel him trembling with the effort of restraint.
When I finally run my tongue along his length, Matteo makes a sound that's half groan, half curse. The taste of him is heady as malt whiskey—salt and musk and man. I explore him slowly, learning what makes his breath catch, what makes his pelvis lift slightly off the bed.
I take him all the way into my mouth, watching his reaction through my lashes. His eyes are fixed on me, dark with desire, his jaw clenched tight. The power I feel in this moment is unexpected—I'm bringing this dangerous, controlled man to break from his self-imposed straitjacket.
"Fuck, Hazel," he groans, one hand fisting in the sheet.
I find a rhythm that feels natural, my confidence growing with each response I draw from him. My own desire builds as I watch him come undone under my touch. I never knew I could want this so badly—to give pleasure rather than just endure it.
Matteo's hand moves to my hair, his fingers threading through the strands. He doesn't push or force, just holds on asif anchoring himself. The gentle pressure sends shards of desire rippling down my spine.
"Is this okay?" he asks, his voice strained but still concerned for my comfort.
I pause just long enough to whisper, "Yes," before taking him deeper.
His grip tightens and the sensation pulls a moan from my throat. The vibration makes Matteo curse in Italian, words I don't understand but whose meaning is perfectly clear.
I never knew I could want this—his hand guiding me, the sounds of his pleasure, the way he's coming apart because of me. I moan again, no longer caring how I sound or how desperate I might seem.
Matteo's grip grows firmer, his breathing more ragged. He guides my movements now, setting a pace that makes my heart race and my body ache with need. Far from feeling used, I feel wanted, desired, appreciated.
"Hazel," he groans, his voice huskier than I've ever heard it. "You're perfect. So fucking perfect."
His words wash over me like a physical caress. I hollow my cheeks, taking him deeper, wanting to bring him the same pleasure he's shown me. My name falls from his lips again and again, like a mantra, like a promise.
The sound of my own moans surprises me—I've never made such sounds before, never felt this kind of ravenous hunger. Each noise I make seems to drive Matteo closer to the edge, his grip in my hair tightening, his guidance becoming more insistent.
I look up at him through my lashes, wanting to see his face, needing to watch him come apart. His eyes are fixed on me, dark and ravening, his expression a mixture of bliss and awe. When our gazes connect an electric shaft passes between us, and Matteo groans deep in his chest.
"You're going to kill me," he whispers, his voice raw with need.
I smile around him, humming my approval, and the vibration makes him curse again. His grip tightens in my hair and I moan louder, surprising myself with how much I enjoy this feeling.
Matteo's fingers curl in my hair to gently pull me away. I search his face, confused by the interruption when he was so clearly relishing my gluttony.
"Not like this," he says, hoarse with desire. "I won't come unless I'm inside you."
The voracious hunger in his eyes makes me shiver. He sits up, cupping my face in his hands, and kisses me deeply.
"Turn around," he commands softly. "On your hands and knees."
I hesitate only for a moment before positioning myself as he told me to. The sheets cool under my palms as I wait, every cell sparking with anticipation. He puts a condom on.
I feel the bed dip as Matteo moves behind me. His hands slide up my thighs, leaving trails of fire in their wake. When they reach my hips, his grip tightens, steadying me.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, one hand tracing the curve of my spine. "So perfect."
I feel him position himself and then he's pushing into me slowly, giving me time to adjust to the fullness. I gasp at the stretching sensation, my fingers curling into the sheets.
"You okay?" he asks, pausing halfway.
"Yes," I breathe. "Don't stop."
He pushes all the way in and I moan at the feeling of completeness. He fills me perfectly, like we were made for each other.
Matteo starts to move, setting a rhythm that's neither too gentle nor too rough. Each thrust sends peaks of pleasurethrough my body, building something inside me that feels like it might consume me whole.
His hands grip my hips, guiding my movements to match his. The position allows him to hit spots inside me that make stars explode behind my eyelids.
