Page 60 of His Savage Ruin
His hand slides between us, finding my clit, and I nearly sob from the intensity. I'm too sensitive, still trembling from the last orgasm, but he doesn't relent. Just works me with practiced precision while his hips drive forward relentlessly.
"You're mine," he rasps against my mouth. "Say it."
I shake my head, even as my body clenches around him, pulling him deeper. Admitting it feels like losing the last piece of myself.
"Say it, Alessia."
His thumb presses harder on my clit, and I shatter. The orgasm rips through me with brutal force, making me scream, making my body convulse around him. Through the chaos, I feel him find his own release, his groan ragged against my neck as he spills inside me.
"I'm yours," I sob, because it's true and terrifying and I can't hold it back anymore. "Yours, Matteo, I'm yours?—"
We collapse together, sweat-slicked and trembling. His weight presses me into the mattress, grounding me when I feel like I might float apart. My chest heaves, trying to catch breath that won't come.
Slowly, his hand slides from between my legs to cup my cheek. The gentleness of it makes my eyes sting.
"Mine," he whispers, rough but certain.
I close my eyes, unable to look at him while admitting this. "Yours."
The word feels like surrender. Like the end of fighting.
And maybe, terrifyingly, that's exactly what it is.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Alessia
The morning light wakes me through the curtains. My body hurts in places I didn't know could hurt—between my thighs, my hips, my lower back where the mattress pressed into me for hours. When I move, soreness radiates through muscles I forgot I had.
Matteo's already half dressed, standing by the window buttoning his shirt. The morning sun shows the scratches I left down his back—red welts from my nails. His wound was bandaged at some point while I was asleep. He turns when he hears me sit up. His eyes are different this morning, darker somehow, and the way he looks at me makes my stomach tighten. He comes slowly and kisses me softly on the lips which seems to surprise him as much is it surprises me.
"Get dressed," he says after one last caress from his lips and battles with his shirt. "We're going out."
I pull the sheet up even though it's stupid after everything we did last night. "Where?"
"The casino. You've been in this house long enough."
"You're letting me out of my cage?" I try to keep my tone light, but there's real curiosity underneath. "What changed your mind?"
He glances at me while working on his cuff buttons. "Maybe I'm tired of you pacing around my room like a trapped cat. Or maybe I just want to get you out for a few hours."
"How generous of you."
"Don't push it,principessa." But there's no real heat in the words. He finishes with his shirt and reaches for his jacket. "Get dressed. We leave in twenty minutes."
I slide out of bed, wrapping the sheet around myself and I feel my heart beating excitedly at the thought of going out. "I want to speak with you about your meeting with Emilio first. You never told me what happened."
His jaw tightens, and for a moment I think he won't answer. Then he says, "He wants you back. Offered me enough money to buy half of New York."
My stomach drops. "And?"
"And I told himno." He shrugs into his jacket, adjusting the collar with practiced ease. "Some things aren't for sale."
The way he says it makes heat curl low in my belly, but I force myself to focus. "So the war continues."
"The war was always going to continue. Emilio won't stop until he has what he thinks belongs to him." He crosses to me, catching my chin between his fingers and tilting my face up to meet his eyes. "But he's going to learn that you're not going back to that house."
I should probably be worried about being fought over like I'm a piece of territory instead of a person. But standing here with his hand on my face and his eyes burning into mine, all I can think about is how different this feels from anything Lorenzo ever did.
