Page 140 of Ruined By Protection
"Fuck," he groans, his forehead dropping to my shoulder. "You feel so goddamn good."
My palms press against the mirror for support as he begins to move, each thrust making my body tremble. I'm still sensitive from my first orgasm, every nerve ending alive to his touch.
I can barely keep my eyes open as thrills course through me but Matteo's command echoes in my head.
"Eyes on me," he growls, one hand gripping my hip while the other slides up to cup my breast through my dress. "Watch what I do to you."
Our gazes lock in the mirror. My lips are parted, cheeks flushed. Behind me Matteo's expression is intense, possessive. Each thrust drives me forward, my fingers splayed against the glass.
"You see that?" he says, his voice rough as he maintains a relentless pace. "Look how fucking perfect you take me."
I moan, unable to form words as he fills me completely, over and over.
"That's it," he continues, his words punctuated by the sound of our bodies meeting. "This pussy is mine. Say it."
"It's yours," I gasp, the words tumbling out without thought.
His rhythm changes, slows to deep, grinding thrusts that hit something inside me that makes my vision blur.
"Who makes you feel this good?" he demands, his fingers digging into my hip.
"You do," I whimper, feeling another orgasm building impossibly fast. "Only you."
"Damn right," he says, his voice strained with his own approaching climax. "No one else. Not before. Not after."
The possessiveness in his voice should bother me, but instead it pushes me closer to the edge. My legs tremble, threatening to give out entirely.
"I'm close," I warn him, my voice barely recognizable.
"Me too," he groans. "Come with me, Hazel. Now."
His command, coupled with a particularly deep thrust, sends me spiraling. My second orgasm crashes through me, more intense than the first. My body clenches around him, pulling him deeper.
"Fuck," Matteo groans against my neck, his hips jerking erratically as he follows me over the edge.
My legs finally give out as unbelievable, almost intolerable pleasure washes through me. Matteo's strong arms hold me up as we both collapse against the wall, panting and spent.
CHAPTER 45
Hazel
Ifold another shirt and place it in my suitcase, smiling as I organize everything just so. The excitement of our upcoming trip makes me tingle with anticipation. Two weeks of freedom on the open road—Matteo's Ducati carrying us along winding European roads, stopping wherever we want, whenever we want.
"What's so funny?" Matteo asks from the doorway, leaning against the frame with that lazy confidence I've come to adore.
"Just remembering that night at the hotel," I say, tucking a pair of jeans into the corner of my suitcase. "When you casually suggested we live together."
He raises an eyebrow. "I was perfectly smooth."
"You were not," I laugh, remembering how he'd paced the hotel room, running his hand through his hair repeatedly before blurting out that I should move in with him. "You looked like you were about to suggest a bank heist, not ask me to share your closet space."
Matteo crosses the room and wraps his arms around my waist from behind. "I wanted to just throw you over my shoulder and say 'my home is your home now, deal with it.'"
"I know you did," I say, leaning back against his chest. "That's what made it so endearing."
His lips brush against my neck. "Endearing isn't exactly the reputation I'm going for."
I turn in his arms, facing him. "Too bad. I find you very endearing. And never more than when I told you what Sandra said while we were dancing around her table in memory of poor Melissa."
