Page 70 of Tempting Tessa

“Matteo?” Her voice is thick with sleep when she finally stirs.

“Right here, stellina.” I press a kiss to her ankle. “Go back to sleep.”

She shifts, rolling onto her back with a wince. “My back is killing me.”

“I know.” I slide my hands under her, lifting her belly again. “Better?”

She nods, her eyes fluttering closed. “Much.”

Letting go of her belly, I continue the massage, watching her face relax as I work the tension from her muscles. This is what I’ve been working toward.

“The baby’s been kicking all day,” she murmurs, her hand coming to rest over mine on her belly. “I think he’s practicing for soccer.”

“He?” I raise an eyebrow. We’ve decided not to find out the sex, but she keeps referring to the baby as “he.”

She smiles, eyes still closed. “Or she. Whatever. Just someone with your stubbornness and my bad attitude.”

“Perfect combination,” I say, leaning down to press my lips to her belly. I feel the baby move against my mouth, and something primal surges through me. Possession. Pride. A fierce, overwhelming need to protect what’s mine.

I’ve been patient for months, slowly breaking down her walls, making her dependent on me in ways she doesn’t even realize. The doctor’s appointments I schedule, the vitamins I make sure she takes, the way I’ve rearranged my entire life to revolve around her needs.

And now she’s finally stopped fighting me. Stopped pretending she doesn’t need me.

I slide my hand higher, cupping her breast through her shirt. She’s bigger now, fuller, her nipples constantly sensitive. She arches into my touch with a soft sound.

“Matteo,” she whispers, but there’s no protest in her voice. Just need.

“Shh,” I tell her, thumb brushing over her nipple. “Let me take care of you.”

I lower my head to her breast, mouthing at her through the thin fabric of her shirt. She whimpers, her hand coming up to tangle in my hair.

“Please,” she breathes, and I know exactly what she’s asking for.

I’ve trained her well these past months. Taught her that pleasure is just another way I take care of her, another way I remind her who she belongs to.

Sliding my hand between her thighs, I find her already wet through her leggings. “Always ready for me,” I murmur against her breast. “Such a good girl.”

She spreads her legs wider, giving me better access. I push the fabric aside, finding her bare beneath—another small victory, getting her to stop wearing panties around the house. Why would she need them when she’s mine to touch whenever I want?

I circle her clit with my thumb, feeling her jerk beneath me. She’s so sensitive now, her body responding instantly to my touch.

“That’s it,” I praise as she begins to move against my hand. “Show me how much you need me.”

Her hips roll in a rhythm that matches my strokes, her breathing growing ragged. I watch her face, cataloguing every expression. The way her brow furrows, her lips part, and her eyes flutter closed as pleasure builds.

“Matteo,” she gasps, her back arching off the couch. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” I promise, increasing the pressure. “I’ll never stop taking care of you.”

Her orgasm hits hard; her body tensing before releasing in a wave that has her crying out my name. I work her through it, gentling my touch but not stopping until she’s spent and trembling beneath me.

When I finally pull my hand away, she’s boneless, her eyes glassy with satisfaction. I bring my fingers to my mouth, sucking them clean while she watches, her pupils dilating at the sight.

“Good?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

She nods, reaching for me. “Come here.”

I lower myself over her, careful of her belly between us. She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me down for a kiss that’s slow and deep and full of something that makes my chest ache.