Page 38 of Matteo

"Spread those legs, and let me look at what is mine." Hisgrowl reverberates deep in my core, and I obey, spreading myself open for his hungry gaze. I've left myself bare beneath the skirt, a little secret, a tease just for him. A smirk curls his lips as he drops to his knees, his eyes darkening with lust and possession. "Fuck me, I forgot you like to tease."

The first lick is a streak of fire from my ass to my clit, igniting every nerve ending. My fingers find his hair, gripping tight as a lifeline as a moan tears from my throat. "I wanna hear you scream," he breathes against my wetness, "show everyone who you belong to."

I can only nod, dumbstruck, as he devours me with a voraciousness that leaves no room for doubt. Matteo plays my body like his personal instrument, his fingers and tongue a symphony of sin. Each stroke sends waves crashing through me, building higher and higher until I'm teetering on the edge of oblivion.

The pressure of his pinky circling my back entrance adds another layer to the sensation, a delicious taboo that has me writhing under his touch. Pleasure coils tight, a serpent ready to strike, and I'm lost in the dark depths of his world, where only power and raw desire reign.

"Fuck yes," I gasp out, and Matteo's little finger breaches me again, a forbidden thrill that has my body singing. But then, cruelly, he withdraws, leaving an aching void where his touch once scorched. My head lifts in protest, eyes locking onto his smoldering gaze, a whimper bubbling from my lips.

"Don't worry, I'm not done with you yet." His words are a dark promise as his hand finds my breasts, squeezing them until pleasure borders on pain. I'm aching for release, but he’s fixated on the prize beneath my skirt. With a swift yank, myskirt bunches around my waist, my bare ass now perched on the cold edge of his desk.

His tongue is merciless, lapping at me with a hunger that borders on savage. "Please, Matteo," spills from me, though I can’t articulate the craving that gnaws at my core. He doesn't need my words. His fingers plunge back into me, slick with his saliva, while that devious pinky pushes deeper into my rear, stretching me to the limits of ecstasy.

"Fuck, that feels good," I groan, the coarse words barely recognizable as my own. Matteo's onslaught is relentless—fingers pumping, tongue flicking—and when another finger joins the first, invading that most private place, it's the spark to my powder keg.

I reach up, mauling at my breasts as he pinches my clit between his teeth. It's too much. I shatter, orgasm ripping through me like a hurricane, my cum gushing forth in a torrential release. Matteo's mouth clamps over me, drinking down my essence with a voraciousness that mirrors the parched earth's welcoming rain.

As my world steadies from its cataclysmic quake, Matteo rises above me, power emanating from him like heat from the sun. One hand grips my face, prying my mouth open before dripping my release back onto my tongue. Then his lips crash against mine, our tastes melding in a depraved kiss that brands me to my soul.

"God, Baby, that was freakin' amazing," he breathes against my lips once we part, his voice rough like gravel, laced with a madness unique to him.

He spins me like I'm nothing but a doll, an object in his powerful hands. The cool wood of the desk presses into mystomach as I'm bent over it, ass presented to him like an offering. "Princess, I'm gonna fuck your ass now, and you're gonna cum all over me and my desk so I can smell you in here for days," Matteo growls, his voice a dark promise that sends shivers down my spine.

His firm grip aligns him with my dripping cunt, and he thrusts inside, claiming me with a possessive urgency that leaves no room for doubt—I am his. He uses me to coat his cock with my slickness before pulling out, leaving a void that's immediately filled with anticipation.

"Fuck me, please," spills from my lips just as he pushes into my ass, stretching, filling me completely. I push back against him, embracing the delicious burn, "Oh God, Matteo."

"That's it, push back onto me like the whore I know you are," he snarls, sinking deeper until there's no more of him left to take. His hands, those instruments of both pleasure and pain, grab my hips, branding me with their heat.

The room is thick with the scent of sex; every breath is laced with lust. Matteo sets a brutal rhythm, each thrust a stroke of mastery. My moans crescendo with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. I want them to hear—the whole goddamn office—his dominance over me, the echo of our primal dance.

"Harder," I beg, desperate, and Matteo complies. He fucks me with a ferocity that borders on violence, and it's glorious. Power reverberates through his frame and into mine. "You like that, like feeling my dick in your ass? Scream so they can all hear you out here, claiming your man."

I'm teetering on the edge, so fucking close. His words arethe final nudge, and I detonate, pleasure obliterating everything else. I gush, a wet, filthy testament to the intensity between us. It coats my thighs, drips onto Matteo's floor, marking his territory in the most carnal way possible.

"Fuck, yes!" I cry out, not caring who hears or what they think. This is our world, our rules. We are the king and queen, and I want everyone to know it. My body shudders with aftershocks, and I revel in the thought of his office reeking of our sin. I'm already fantasizing about grinding my release into the carpet, a permanent reminder of our liaison.

"Good girl," Matteo grunts behind me, satisfaction evident in his strained voice.

I slam back against Matteo, taking him deep, feeling him pulse. The room's spinning, but I anchor myself on the solid heat of him buried in me. "Shit Princess, that's it," he growls, voice strained—a raw sound that signifies the end. His grip on my hips is bruising, sure to leave a mark. He empties into me with a guttural groan, and his body shudders with release.

"God, Baby, that was freakin' amazing," he pants as he collapses onto my sweat-drenched back, the weight of him pressing me into the desk. His breath is hot on my neck, his heart hammering against my spine.

The world outside our lust-fueled bubble intrudes with the sharp rap of knuckles on wood. "Boss, Enzo just arrived at the desk downstairs," Spike's voice cuts through the post-orgasmic haze. Urgent, laced with the unspoken tension of the streets.

"Motherfucker." The curse slides from Matteo's lips, adark promise all its own. He withdraws, leaving a hollow ache where he'd just been. "Okay, give me five."

I straighten up, feeling his cum start to trickle down my thigh. "Princess, there is a bathroom behind that door just there, go clean up. You're about to meet the man who sits in the second seat."

I catch the grimace that twists his lips, the warning clear in the tight set of his jaw. Enzo. Lunatic doesn't begin to cover it. I've heard stories—blood-soaked tales whispered with reverence and fear. But I'm no stranger to monsters; after all, I'm with one right now.

"Got it," I reply, my voice steady despite the tremors still coursing through my legs. Matteo holds my gaze for a moment longer, his eyes smoldering coals in the dim light, then nods sharply. He's slipping back into his role—the Don, the man who commands respect through terror.

I slide off the desk, my movements languid and unsteady, and make my way to the bathroom. Matteo watches me go, the intensity in his gaze a tangible force. I'm his queen in this chess game of power, and by God, I'll wear that crown—even if it's lined with thorns.

I stride into the bathroom, a mix of Matteo's heat and mine seeping from me. I've got five minutes to go from debauched to decent. No small feat.

The mirror shows a flushed face, eyes still dark with lust, hair a mess of tangles. Fuck, I look thoroughly used. A smirk tugs at my lips. I do love the afterglow of sin.

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