Matteo

I had been with too many women to count.

Bodies. Legs. Mouths. The easy kind, the kind who never asked questions, who never tried to hold me.

I didn’t date them.

I didn’t kiss them.

I didn’t want them.

A relationship had always felt like a prison to me, one made of jealousy, expectations, endless noise. I didn’t have time for that shit.

I was a man who took what I wanted, left money on the table, and was gone before dawn.

And yet here I was, breaking every rule I had ever made for myself, claiming Adriana’s mouth.

I had never kissed a woman like this. Not once. Not even as an experiment. But her taste had branded me already, intoxicating, impossible to resist.

She was fucking sweet. Sweet, with a trace of salt, and beneath it something dangerous, something sharp that I couldn’t name.

She was a drug.

She moaned into me with no restraint, the sound vibrating into my chest, straight into my veins, down into my cock.

I had imagined this before, when I was alone in the shower, my hand wrapped around myself, her face flashing in my mind. But the reality of her lips, her tongue, her surrender, was far beyond anything I had ever allowed myself to imagine.

I tore from her mouth only long enough to taste the curve of her jaw, the hollow of her throat. She tilted her head back like she had been waiting for this moment her entire life.

“Matteo…” she whispered, her voice trembling, needy, and it made my blood roar.

This woman was going to be a distraction.

I kissed her harder, deeper, desperate to brand her as mine. Every time her breath hitched, every tiny sound she made, it felt like victory. Like possession. Like I had taken back something that had always belonged to me.

When I set her down on the edge of the bed, I didn’t let her go. My hands slid lower, gripping her ass, kneading until she whimpered, my mouth devouring her lips.

She looked up at me, wide-eyed, pleading, and my cock strained so hard against my trousers I thought the seams might burst.

I wanted her under me.

I wanted to bury myself inside her.

I wanted her until she forgot everything but my name.

But when I stepped back, I saw it.

Her breath ragged, lips swollen, skin flushed. Beautiful, ruined, mine.

And yet… hesitation flickered in her eyes.

“Take off your clothes, princess,” I ordered, my voice rough. The command slipped out before I even thought it.

Her eyes widened. She froze, trembling. Her gaze flicked down to the evidence of my hunger pressing hard against my pants, then back up. Fear and hunger warred across her face.

But slowly, with shaking hands, she obeyed.

The straps of her dress slid from her shoulders. The fabric slipped down her body and pooled at her feet.

No panties.

No bra.

Nothing to shield her.

Bare.

Vulnerable.

Breathtaking.

And she didn’t cover herself. Didn’t hide.

Adriana knew she was beautiful.

Her body was perfection.

Breasts full and round, nipples pink and already tight from the cool air. Her waist curved inward, and her hips flared out into curves, giving her a perfect figure.

Between her thighs, neatly trimmed curls formed a perfect triangle, glistening faintly as a single line of wetness slid down her inner thigh.

She was terrified. Her lips trembled, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. But her body was betraying her.

My wife was aroused.

Fuck. She was gorgeous.

A slow grin curved across my mouth. “Come here.”

She hesitated. Then obeyed.

Step by step, small, uncertain, trembling. Like she thought I might destroy her. Maybe I would.

When she reached me, she rose on her toes, fingers clumsy on the buttons of my shirt. One by one, they slipped free until the fabric slid off my shoulders and hit the floor.

She lingered on my chest and gasped, taking in all my tattoos as if memorising every ink, every scar, every muscle, every mark of violence that had carved me into the man I was.

I let her look. She was mine now. She had the right.

She went on her knees and fumbled with my belt, trembling so hard she could barely manage the buckle. I covered her fingers with mine, steadying her. Guiding her. Teaching her that she didn’t have to be afraid.

The leather slipped free. My trousers fell loose. And she gasped at my bulge straining my briefs.

But she didn’t stop.

Instead, she moved to the bed and lay back. Slowly and Carefully. As if every motion hurt. She spread her thighs open, baring herself to me.

Her cunt was rose pink and glistening.

Wet and waiting to be claimed

She looked at the ceiling, not even meeting my eye, “Do as you please.”

Fuck. Four words that nearly made me lose control.

I climbed over her, caging her body with mine. My fingers tangled with hers, pressing her hands into the mattress above her head, locking her down.

She arched beneath me, chest heaving, thighs trembling as I pressed myself against her heat, and a tear slipped.

I kissed her again…slower, deeper. Not soft this time, but something darker. Something I didn’t have a name for. She opened to me almost willingly, whimpering into my mouth like she couldn’t breathe without me.

I pulled back only to kiss the tip of her nose. Her cheek. The hollow of her throat. My lips moved lower, tracing the swell of her breasts, and she let out a scream when I closed my mouth around one hard nipple, sucking until she was arching off the bed and shaking under me.

She was fear and desire tangled together.

And I wanted her.

Everywhere.

Every inch.

To leave nothing untouched, nothing sacred.

To ruin her for anyone else.

But not today, Not after the terrifying night She just had.

Dragging my mouth back to hers, I whispered against her lips, “Tempting, princess… but not tonight. I won’t take you forcefully. I’m better than that.”

Her eyes flew open. Wide. Confusion written across her beautiful face, confusion and hunger.

And God help me, I wanted her more than I had ever wanted anything in my goddamn life.

I could have taken her. She wouldn’t have fought. Her body was begging me for it, slick with need, trembling with anticipation. But the fear still lingered in her gaze. And that was something I wouldn’t accept.

I didn’t want her body if her mind was still holding back.

I wanted everything.

So I held her tighter, and kissed her until her lips were swollen, until her body writhed under mine, until her desperate whimpers filled the room. I tortured us both with my restraint.

When I finally pulled back, I was hard enough to ache, every muscle locked in control. She looked ruined beneath me, lips parted, chest rising and falling fast.

And I knew then…I had marked her tonight.

Not with sex.

Not with bruises.

But with hunger.

She would feel me long after I left her bed untouched.