Page 77 of Ruthless Mr. Ricco
With a parting lick and curl, he rises and extracts his fingers from inside me.I wrap my legs around his hips and help him free his cock when he doesn’t move fast enough.
He snarls when I wrap my fist around his base and tug him toward my entrance.
“Please,” I whisper.
His gutturalfuckempowers me.We both groan as he buries himself balls deep with a single thrust.I tighten my legs around him.
He loses control and pounds into me with wild abandon.Delicious agony spears through me.I fly apart.
He dominates my body.Worships my mouth.Completes my soul.
I cling to him as his rhythm falters.He surges impossibly deeper and releases his pleasure inside me.Tears trail down my cheeks, destroying the masterpiece my makeup artist spent over an hour creating, but I don’t give a fuck.
I pepper his face with kisses as he trembles and groans.The same words tumble from my lips over and over.
I love you, Matteo.
He cradles my head in his massive hands and enjoys my adoration as his senses slowly return to earth.
When he finally catches his breath, he nips my lower lip and wraps his fingers around my throat.My heart threatens to burst from joy as he pierces my soul with his unguarded eyes.
“I love you, too, Brook.I’m yours.All yours.Forever,” he vows.
I bite back a sob and tangle my tongue with his.He pulls away before we lose ourselves to pleasure.
I capture the inside of my bottom lip between my teeth as he pulls away.His release seeps from my entrance, but he grabs a tissue and cleans me up before it drips onto my dress.
We’ve never discussed protection or if we want children.So far, we’re in the clear—I had my period last week—but I shouldn’t let this go on.
Except now isn’t the time to address the topic.
He tosses the tissues in the trash bin and adjusts my skirt before cleaning and tucking himself away.
After dabbing the tears from my face and leading me to the makeup station to fix what I can, Matteo runs his fingers through his hair and straightens his tie.
It’s annoying how quickly he composes himself, but I adore his ruthless professionalism, so I embrace him and rise onto tiptoes to kiss his chin.He pecks my forehead and gives me a squeeze before offering me his arm.
I stumble when I step halfway on, halfway off the rug, but Matteo catches me and leads me out into the hall.
“These heels are going to be the death of me,” I mumble under my breath.
He chuckles and kisses my temple as we approach the wedding party waiting to enter the chapel.My mom praises my dress even though she’s been with me in the bridal chamber for most of the day, and she takes me from Matteo without batting an eye.
When my husband-to-be leans in and whispers something to my mom’s husband, suspicion skitters down my spine.
They pat each other on the back before Matteo strides to his place near the front of the procession.
Nervous jitters take over me.The thought of everyone’s eyes on me as I walk down the aisle fills me with dread.
My mom links her arm into mine and pats my shoulder.Gary does the same on my other side.
Gratitude sweeps through me.I clear my throat and blink to clear the tears from my eyes.
“Don’t you dare start crying or I’ll never be able to stop,” Mama warns.
Gary pulls a packet of travel tissues from his pocket and shakes it for us to see.
“Don’t worry, my love, I’m prepared.There’s plenty, so don’t hold back.You’ve both worked hard to get here, so—”
