Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 135364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Instead, she grips my face in both hands and kisses me, hard and deep, like she’s trying to tell me something without saying it out loud.
I feel it.
I feel her.
I press my forehead to hers, my breathing heavy, trying to keep myself in check when all I want to do is wreck her, ruin her, remind her exactly who she is, who she belongs to.
I swallow hard and lower myself, my lips moving from her mouth to her jawline, then down her neck. She arches into me instinctively, her body responding to mine in a way that makes my cock throb.
She wants this.
She wants me.
Even after everything that bastard tried to do, even after every doubt he planted in her mind - she’s here, with me.
Mine.
She shivers beneath my touch, her breath catching as my fingers glide down the length of her thighs. My lips follow, pressing slow, lingering kisses to her hips, her stomach, teasing just enough to feel the way she arches toward me.
"Matteo," she breathes, her voice shaky, full of need.
"I'm here," I murmur, my breath hot against her skin. "Just relax. I've got you - let me show you."
I want to make her feel so good she forgets about everything else.
She’s already so wet, and fuck, it makes me groan against her skin, the sound vibrating against her as I grip her thighs and spread them wider for me.
I could tease her all night. Could spend hours here, learning every little sound she makes, dragging this out until she’s wrecked for me. But not tonight.
Tonight, she needs more.
And so I give it to her.
The first flick of my tongue against her clit makes her whole body jolt, and I love it.
The way she reacts to me, the way she moves, the way her thighs tremble against my shoulders - I swear, this is better than any goal I’ve ever scored.
Her fingers clutch at the sheets, but I want them tangled in my hair.
I need them on me.
"Holy fuck," she gasps, and I smirk, loving that I can do this to her.
Her hips lift, chasing my mouth, and I let her, but only for a second.
Then my hands tighten around her thighs, pinning her down, forcing her to take it exactly how I want to give it to her.
She whimpers, and it’s music.
"You’re so wet for me," I murmur, voice thick with satisfaction. "So fucking perfect."
I slide two fingers inside her, groaning at how easily she takes them, how tight and warm she is around me.
My tongue never stops, circling her clit with precision, my fingers curling and finding that perfect spot that makes her gasp my name.
"Matteo," she cries, and fuck if it doesn’t go straight to my cock.
I pull back just enough to look up at her, my lips glistening, my fingers still buried inside her.
"I love when you say my name like that," I murmur. "Say it again."
She does. Louder, this time.
And it wrecks me.
I need her to come for me, need to feel her fall apart, need to watch it.
So I double down, my mouth, my fingers, my tongue - everything is focused on her, on pulling her over the edge, on making sure she knows who’s doing this to her.
"That’s it," I groan against her. "Give it to me, baby. Let go."
And fuck - she does.
She shatters, her whole body bowing off the bed, her thighs shaking, her hands finally, finally gripping my hair as she cries out my name.
I don’t stop.
Not until I feel every last tremor. Not until I know she’s too sensitive, too overwhelmed to take anymore.
Only then do I pull back, pressing soft kisses to the inside of her thighs, my fingers stroking lazy circles against her skin.
I move up her body slowly, letting my lips explore every inch of her. Her stomach, her ribs, the swell of her breasts - I kiss it all, my own body still thrumming with need.
I knew I was gone for her before. But now?
There’s no coming back.
She’s mine. She’s been mine from the moment she stepped into my life, all fire and stubbornness, pushing back against me like she didn’t know she’d already lost the battle.
But this isn’t about winning. Not with her.
This is about us.
I don’t think she realises how much she’s taken over me, how much space she’s claimed in my head, in my chest. And maybe that’s my fault. Maybe I haven’t made it clear enough.
But I will.
Right now, all I care about is taking care of her.
I don’t rush it. This isn’t about me.
This is about her.
About making her feel good, making her feel safe, making her understand that I’m not going anywhere.
By the time I reach her mouth, she’s still breathless, but she kisses me back like she wants more.
I grin against her lips.
"You're so beautiful like this," I murmur, brushing a stray lock of hair from her damp forehead. "Completely undone."