Page 64 of Unleashing Mayhem
“Yes, yes, yes,” he chanted, digging his heels into Nightmare’s ass as he clawed at his back, rocking and writhing until those petals had locked into place and he was forced to still.
Nightmare stroked every bit of skin he could reach. There was nothing like it in this world or any other, to be lodged so deep inside his mate. To have his cock squeezed like a vise as he emptied his seed into such a welcoming vessel.
Matteo’s sigh was pure relief as he smiled up at Nightmare, still wrapped tight as a limpet around him. “Thank you, Scary.” His smile fell immediately into a concerned frown as he took stock. “You’re all hunched though. Did you really think this position through?”
In answer, Nightmare rolled them with ease until his mate was on top of him, his thighs to either side of Nightmare’s hips.
“Oh.” Matty pressed his hands to Nightmare’s taut stomach, regaining his balance with a small giggle. “Hello.”
“Better, sweet?” Nightmare stroked his hands down Matteo’s thighs, and Matteo leaned down until he was plastered to Nightmare’s chest, his cheek to Nightmare’s sternum. He wiggled his bottom, and Nightmare groaned as his cock was massaged by the move, spurting weakly inside his mate.
“Oh yes,” Matteo sighed. “This is good.”
He relaxed in Nightmare’s hold, trusting Nightmare to keep him comfortable and safe and free of pain, and Nightmare accepted it for the gift it was.
19
Matty
The room was dark and quiet, and everything was still. And yet Matteo already knew who was there beside him.
Maybe his body had registered the new weight on the bed, or maybe his brain had realized there should still be a light shining from the TV. He’d fallen asleep with it on, hadn’t he?
But there was no light when Matteo opened his eyes. Someone had turned it off.
“Matteo,” a familiar voice called in a crooning whisper. “Matteo, Matteo, Matteo.”
Matteo could just make out the dim outline on the edge of his bed. Close enough that they were almost touching. The man had his back turned, Matteo was pretty sure.
It didn’t matter. Matteo knew who had come to haunt him.
“Dominico,” he said. The one time Matteo had refused to acknowledge the apparition, he’d been made to regret it. “You’re back.”
“I heard you misbehaved while I was away.”
Matteo swallowed with difficulty, his throat dry. Of course Dominico had already been told. One of his spies had probably reported everything the moment it had happened. Dominico had no doubt hurried back early to ensure he’d be the one to mete out punishment.
“Maybe Luca will let me take something this time,” Dominico mused. “You don’t need all ten fingers to be such a wretched disappointment. Or toes, for that matter.”
All ten of Matteo’s digits curled in on themselves without his permission, but he tried not to move otherwise. Quiet and still was always the best option.
“You should have just done what the old bastard wanted.”
But Matteo couldn’t have. He’d been ordered to execute the wife of a traitor—a bloody message to deter any other defections. But the woman had been innocent; she hadn’t known anything about what her husband had done. She hadn’t done anything to warrant pain or death.
Dominico clucked his tongue. “Well, she’s gone now anyway. Begged and pleaded and wept for hours. Would’ve been quicker if you’d done it.”
Matteo bit back sudden tears. He’d known his refusal was a stupid, meaningless gesture. But even with a gun in his hand and Luca at his back, he hadn’t been able to pull the trigger. He’d never been able to. Not once.
The mattress shifted as Dominico turned to face him. Matteo’s eyes had adjusted to the dark now—enough to see that there was blood on the older man’s face. Probably on his hands and his clothes too, judging from past experience. Most likely Matteo’s sheets would be covered with it in the morning.
“He’s growing tired of you, Matteo.” Dominico rested a hand on Matteo’s face, and Matteo had to swallow down bile at the wet, sticky touch. “But don’t worry.” Dominico started rubbing a calloused thumb over Matteo’s cheekbone. “Iwon’tgrow tired. I’m going to keep you alive for ages, Matteo. I’m going to find every tender spot you never knew you had and make it bleed. I’m going to take off bits and pieces so slowly you’ll forget you ever lost them.”
Matteo didn’t dare move. He hardly dared breathe.
Dominico grinned at him, white teeth flashing in the dark. “How’s your back, hm? Has it healed yet?”
It hadn’t. Matteo’s skin was still raw, the cuts scabbed over in places that kept breaking open and bleeding when he moved in the wrong way.
