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And do I want to have sex with him?
So far, I’ve done nothing on my own. I’ve always been ordered or raped. I’ve never had the choice. The decision being mine should make it easier for me, but it doesn’t. It makes me feel dirty.
It’s wrong.
I shouldn’t fuck any of these men. I’m married. But it might be my only chance. Make them fall for me, and then I can return to my husband.
I grab Matteo’s neck, and I pull him down so that I can kiss him. The kiss is rough, not like our previous kisses. It’s full of moans and growls, tugging of lips and sucking of tongues. It feels desperate. It’s my attempt at taking back control. But Matteo feels just as desperate for the kiss as I am.
When I kiss Matteo, I try to pretend like I’m kissing Heath, but I quickly realize how much of a mistake that is. Heath’s kisses were perfect. But Matteo’s kisses take everything to another level. His kisses rock my whole body, making me feel the kiss deep in my belly.
My body knows that it isn’t Heath kissing me. So, why pretend?
“What do you want?” Matteo asks between kisses, his breathing heavy and his eyes full of lust.
“Hmm,” I say as I’m still feeling every tingling sensation from the kiss.
Matteo grins as he kisses my lips again before biting my bottom lip hard enough to draw just enough blood to bring me back to reality.
I shake my head. “What did you say?”
“What do you want, beautiful? You said you wanted our first time to be special, so what do you want? I know you’re too weak to do much, but what do you want? Do you want me to fuck you hard and fast now? Do you want me to wait until you’re stronger? Do you want me to take you out onto the balcony and make love slow and sweet in the sunlight? Or hard and fast in the dark? Tell me what you want.”
My heartbeat picks up. He’s giving me the illusion of control while really taking it all away. But, still, I get to decide this one thing—how and when I want to have sex with Matteo for the first time.
I grab the nape of his neck and force him to kiss me again. Right now, I want more kisses. So many more kisses. Arlo hasn’t kissed me since I came here. And it’s always my favorite part about being intimate with another person.
I get lost in his kisses again. When Matteo kisses me, he really kisses me. Like it might be the last time he ever gets to kiss me, so he gives me everything he has. It makes it easy to think that he cares about me even though I know he doesn’t. I’m going to have to do a lot more to get him to actually care about me. And a heck of a lot to get him to fall in love with me.
He stops kissing me, and I know what he is asking. I don’t get any more kisses until I decide.
I can’t stop kissing him. I can’t stop wanting him. He’s turned me on, and I don’t have an off button.
I don’t care about how weak I am. I don’t care about how I just sucked his brother’s dick. I don’t care that I came back to him, so he could answer my questions, not to fuck him. I need him to fuck me. I need the obsession to go away.
“Fuck me. Make me forget everything but you.”
I see the switch turn on in Matteo’s eyes when I give him permission to fuck me. Although he and Arlo look so similar, they are very different. Arlo saved me in his own way. He did what had to be done even though he knew I would hate him afterward. Arlo wants the control. He enjoyed me being weak. Matteo wants me to choose him. I know he’s just messing with my head. Both are going to cause me years of therapy if I survive this.
Matteo stands up and undoes the button on his jacket. Removing it, he neatly places it on the chair in the corner. He kicks off his shoes while he slowly undoes the buttons on his shirt and then lays the shirt on top of his jacket. He slacks are next, and he takes just as much time with them as he did the rest of his clothes, making me crazy while I lie in the bed, unable to get up and hurry him up. He folds his pants and then puts them on the chair where the rest of his clothes lie.
When he turns to me, the smirk on his face tells me he knows exactly what he is doing to me. He’s driving me wild with need and want for him. I can’t remember the last time I wanted a man’s cock like I do right now.
“I told you to fuck me. Not take your sweet-ass time in undressing.”
He rips the covers off the bed and then climbs up on top of me, careful not to touch any part of my body as he does. His eyes travel over every inch of my body that he has already seen countless times. I’m just wearing underwear and a bra. We’ve slept like this all week long. But it feels different when his eyes devour me like they are now.
“Oh, beautiful, I’m going to take my sweet time with you. I don’t trust that you will ever give yourself to me again. So, I’m going to make this last for as long as I can.”
I suck in a breath to try to keep from panting and showing him exactly how much I want this. It’s embarrassing—how much I want him to fuck me. I want him to show me just how in control he is. Just how sweet he can make me feel. He makes me feel cared for when he heals me. I can only imagine how he will care for me when he fucks me.
“I’m going to make you forget about every drop of pain,” Matteo says, taking my hand and kissing over the bruises and cuts from my fingertips to my shoulder. He takes my other arm and repeats the motion. Not letting one cut, scrape, or bruise be left untouched by his lips.
He’s intoxicatingly slow and careful as he kisses me. Ensuring he doesn’t miss one place that could be causing me pain while, at the same time, hitting every spot that brings me pleasure.
“Tell me what hurts, beautiful,” he says.
I point to the deep bruises on my stomach.
