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48
TASHA
I stare into his eyes, a deep earthy brown, and I know I’m about to landslide into love with this man. There’s something in his gaze that I’ve never seen before. He is always so stern and cold, every word calculated. He never speaks when silence can go so much further, but now, he murmurs my name as he pushes the tip of his cock into my body, his gaze soft, as if he is sliding with me.
He is perched on one hand, his other holding mine, and I grip it tighter as I caress his jaw. He is taking it slow, giving my body time to adjust to him. Just the pressure of his weight, the feel of him making his way, is like a heady drug. I pull him closer, and he dips down for a tender kiss.
“This is going to hurt, kitten,” he murmurs against my lips.
“I want it to hurt,” I whisper back. “I want to feel how you’re my first.”
My words seem to pull a trigger. Matteo drives into me full force, and the pain that comes with it makes me gasp as I dig my nails into his hand and grip his hair. I curl into him, but he pulls his cock out and slams it right back into me. I cry out, blinking at him, but he has shifted his weight so he can hold my jaw, forcing me to look up at him.
“Good girl,” he praises. “Did I hurt you real bad?”
“No,” I lie. You just tore a slit in my soul with your cock and climbed right into me, becoming part of me forever. “It’s fine now.”
“You feel so fucking good. One more time, sweetheart, just one more time.”
He pulls out again, and this time it’s better. When he rams back into my body, I moan with pleasure, because suddenly it all makes sense. You need cock, kitten. Lots of it. Until you’ve had it, you won’t be satisfied.
And I can’t give you mine.
And yet… here we are. Matteo holds still, fully sheathed, and I can only look into his eyes as tears sneak out of the corners of my own. Only two tears. No more. He broke all the rules to be with me, and I’m falling, a pile of emotions for this man I never knew existed coming straight down with me. “You feel so right,” I say as I hook my legs over his ass, hugging him close.
He wipes at a tear with his thumb, the gesture so tender and caring that I’ll weep if he does it again. “You’re so fucking tight, kitten. You sure you’re fine?” he asks as he repositions himself to go slow and easy as he thrusts into me.
“I want more. I want to come on your cock.”
“Thought so.” He dips his head and kisses me, his tongue diving into my mouth, slowly out, a mimic of what he is doing with his body. It ramps up everything in me, and as I was on the verge of coming earlier, it doesn’t take much to summon back the rise of the tide that’s going to take me there.
“Matteo,” I whisper against his lips as his rhythm becomes more urgent, more focused.
“Come with me, angel,” he whispers back as he drops his head next to mine. His torso presses down on me, but it makes everything more intense. The crash of my orgasm shudders from deep within me along with my feelings for him that keep ballooning out of control. As I come, I cling to him, never wanting to let go.
“Tasha…” He groans my name as he peaks. He pauses and his pleasure vibrates through my body into my core.
And still I’m coming, a release that’s born out of finally being with him like this. With Matteo in my arms, I’d be happy if I were to die right now. This is why I waited; I needed this man to be my first. Not some high school fumble with a boy who doesn’t know what he’s doing, not a college dorm romp with a random jerk who’s had three different girls in his bed that week already, used condoms on the nightstand. I needed a man who controls his pleasure as much as he controls everything else around him.
I turn my face to his and we kiss between heaving breaths, my orgasm subsiding. He eases off me, slowly, our lips still touching, tasting, teasing. And then my legs, weakened by the intensity of my orgasm, slump to the side. Matteo slips from my body, but already he is kissing me, worshipping his way down my neck to my chest, a hand on my breast, kisses to my nipples. I close my eyes and arch into him, wanting to do all of this again. His hands slide over my stomach and to my hips, and I feel his cum seep out of me, and then his fingers are there, touching a sweet line through my slit. I’m sensitive, but I don’t protest as I watch how he dips his finger and drags it over my skin, all his attention on what he is doing. The last of the summer evening light spills in from the large windows onto him, making him look godly. Again and again he repeats the motion, writing something on my inner thighs with his fingertip.
Matteo stands, looks down at his handiwork and shoots me a naughty grin that melts me on the spot. “I’ll get something to clean you up.”
I watch him walk to the bathroom, then peek down at what he has written on my legs. It’s tiny. It’s hardly legible.
On one thigh he wrote mine.
On the other thigh he’d made a little heart with my virgin blood mixed with his seed.
I’ve been claimed and bound to him. To this god. There’s no other way I can think of him now. He is a god and tonight he’s claimed me as his goddess.
49
MATTEO
When I walk out of the bathroom with a wet facecloth, Tasha is exactly where I left her. She looks radiant, well-fucked, and so goddamn beautiful my breath catches. And she’s waiting for me… waiting for me as she toys with her hair, which has come undone. A few hair clips are tossed to the side and the final thing I want off her body are those jewels. This woman needs nothing to adorn her, neither does she need to be dolled up. She is perfect as she is.
I slide the warm cloth from her ankle up to her inner thigh and she sighs. “That’s nice.”
