Beautiful Pain

by J. M. Walker

I closed the distance between us and cupped his cheek. “Talk to me.”

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the bed, covering me with his big body. “You want me?” His face hardened. “Tell me you want me. Like this.” He pulled at the collar of his shirt.

  “I want you,” I said on a breath.

  He leaned back on his haunches and gripped his shirt, ripping it down the middle.

  I gasped, my gaze traveling down the length of his hard torso.

  Muscles rippled under his skin. His thick arms flexing as he towered over me. “You want me?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, reaching out for him.

  Matteo pulled off his ripped shirt, tossing it on the bed and gripped his belt. “On your knees, beautiful girl. Show me how much.”

  Kneeling before him, I allowed my fingers to trail over his collar bone, down his arms, back up.

  “I can’t control it. What I want to do to you.” He kissed my palm as it cupped his cheek. “I want to hurt you, Mae.”

  Swallowing hard, I grazed my fingers over his insanely hard abs. “Sir.”

  “Fuck. It makes me hard when you call me that,” he said against the crook of my neck.

  “Use me.” I had never given myself to anyone like I had wanted to give myself to him.

  “Shit.” His large body shook, trembling beneath my fingers while they traveled over his hot skin. “Lay down.”

  Doing as I was told, I spread my legs, opening myself to him. Letting him know I wanted him. That I needed him in ways I never knew. We hadn’t known each other for long but I knew this was right. Whatever this was. “Please.”

  “Stop.” He leaned his head from side to side, cracking his neck. “I need some control. Do you understand, Mae?”

  “Yes.” I nodded quickly. “I understand.”

  Matteo pulled a small foil package out of his pocket and handed it to me. “You are in control of this. Right now. If you don’t give me the condom, we aren’t doing what I know we both want.”

  “Okay.” I gripped the small package in my hand.

  His chest rose and fell, his gaze traveling down the length of my body. “You’re ready for me? Is your pussy nice and slick?”

  “Yes. I’m ready for you.”

  Unbuckling his belt, he slowly unbuttoned his pants.

  Never in my life would a man undoing his pants be considered hot. But watching his thick fingers grip the fabric of his pants and slowly spread them open sent a shiver down my spine.

  Fingers that had been inside me, touched me, gave me the best orgasms I had ever experienced. Was it wrong that we hadn’t known each other for that long and I wanted him this much? Did it scream that I was easy? That I would do anything when a man paid me a little attention.

  “Mae?” Matteo leaned over me and brushed a hand down my cheek. “Where did you go?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Stop lying to me.” He kissed my neck and trailed his finger down the center of my body. “Safeword and everything stops.”

  “You can use it too,” I whispered.

  His gaze shot to mine, the small muscle in his jaw ticking. “The safeword is for you. I know what I can handle. Do you?”

  “From you? I have no idea. But I’m willing to find out.” I sat up and hooked a finger in the belt loop of his pants, pulling him closer to me. “Please.”

  “Give me both of your hands,” he demanded and pulled his belt out of the loops with a snap.

  My heart skipped a beat, my core quivering at the sound. All I could think about was feeling the leather on my skin, heating my body with a desirable warmth.

  Matteo took my hands, wrapped the leather belt around my wrists and pulled them taut above my head. “Safeword?”

  “Santos,” I breathed, arching under him.

  He buckled the belt around my bedpost. “If your fingers start to tingle, let me know. Other than that, the only word I want leaving your mouth is your safeword.” He gripped my chin, tilting my head back. “Do you understand me?”

  “Yes.” My stomach twisted. But I wanted to touch him. I wanted to feel his muscles move under my hands.

  “Don’t look so disappointed.” He turned my head, capturing my gaze in the mirror on my dresser. “You look beautiful restrained by my leather.” He brushed his thumb over my mouth. “I’m going to destroy you.” He lowered his zipper and leaned into me, pressing his pelvis into my core.

  The feel of his thickness pressed against my center ignited my skin on fire. The need for this man burned through me.

  “Look at me,” he demanded, nipping my neck.

  I turned my head, glancing between us and swallowed hard.

  Matteo had a firm grip on his cock. Veins protruded from the length. He was thick and hard. The tanned beauty of his body proud and ready for me. “Do you see what you do to me, Marketa? Look at how hard I am. For you.” His hand stroked up and down his length. Up. Down. Up. And. Down.

  My mouth watered. I could watch him touch himself for hours. He was a man who knew how to please his own body. And it definitely knew how to please mine.

  “Spread your legs wider. Open for me, Mae.”

  I did as he said and waved the condom package back and forth in my hand.

  A wicked grin spread on his face. He took it from me and kissed me softly on the mouth. “Last time.”

  “For what?”

  “Next time I touch you, it won’t be gentle.” Proving his point, he gripped my inner thighs and spread me open as far as possible.

  My muscles burned, spreading a warm heat over my skin.

  The sound of the foil wrapper opening sent a surge of energy through my body. I arched under him, waiting. Ready.

  “Mae?” a soft female voice said from the other side of my bedroom door.

  Matteo paused, glancing between the door and me. “Fuck.”

  “I…” I didn’t know what to do. I never brought guys home to my place. Nika was always the one leaving a sock on her door. But me? I had my nose in a book.

  I went to get up when I remembered that my hands were strapped to the bedpost by his belt. Oh dear God. My cheeks burned.

  Matteo’s grin widened.

  “Mae?” A soft knock.

  “Give me a second,” I called out.

  “Let me in.” Nika jiggled the door knob. “What the hell? You never lock your door. Don’t tell me you finally have a man in there.”

  “Unstrap me,” I whispered to Matteo.

  “I kind of like seeing you in this position.” He trailed a finger down my chest. “So vulnerable. Restrained. Completely bound.” He purred out that last word and I swore it made my insides melt.

  “Mae, if you have a man in there, please tell me it’s Matteo. That man has been looking like he wanted to eat you up for days. Poor guy looks sexually frustrated,” Nika said. A thump landed against the door and I could only imagine that she was leaning against it.

  Matteo raised an eyebrow. “I look frustrated?” he said in a low voice. “She clearly hasn’t been looking at you.”

  I glared, earning me a deep chuckle.

  “I knew it!” Nika shrieked. “You do have a man in there.”

  “Oh God. Nika, go away. I’ll be out in a second.” Could this be any more embarrassing?

  “No. No. Take your time,” she singsonged.

  Matteo grinned, unbuckling the belt. “Another time, beautiful girl.” He slowly unwrapped the leather binding my wrists, rubbing his thumbs over the sensitive skin.

  Tilting my head, I silently begged for him to kiss me, one last time before he had to go.

  Replacing the belt with his hands, he held my arms above my head and covered my mouth in a hard bruising kiss.

  I moaned, lifting my hips.

  “Fuck me, Marketa,” he groaned. “You’re going to drive me fucking insane.”

  My heart jumped.

  “I don’t want to stop.”

  Neither did I but Nika never came home early from a shift. “I think something’s w
rong with Nika.”

  He nodded, letting me up and picked up his torn shirt.

  “Matteo?” I said softly, pulling on my shorts and tank top.

  He righted his pants, slipped into his jacket and grabbed my hand. Tugging me against him, his hand grazed down my back. “Soon.”

  I didn’t get a chance to respond when he crashed his lips to mine. The kiss was deep, slow, dominating. He took control as he slid his tongue into my mouth. Sucking. Licking. Owning. He kissed me like he was staking his claim.

  “Hmm…sweet girl.” He released me and pushed me forward towards the door, landing a light swat on my butt. He didn’t say anything else as we left my bedroom.

  Heading down the hall, I braced myself for the badgering of questions. But what I found was completely unexpected.

  A large man stood by the patio window, quietly talking on his cell phone. He was tall. Greying hair styled into a crew cut. Tattoos adorned his thick neck. He glanced my way, his brows narrowing when he saw Matteo standing beside me.

  “Hello, daddy,” I said, my voice small. I was in my thirties but still and always would be a daddy’s girl.

  He disconnected the call and placed his cell in the pocket inside his suit jacket. “Come here, Marketa,” he demanded of me, speaking to me in Czech.

  I sighed, knowing he only spoke to me in our native tongue when he was annoyed or trying to show power.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, slipping into his arms.

  “I haven’t seen my daughter in months. You don’t call. You don’t write. You don’t do shit.” He pinched my chin and kissed my forehead. “I missed you.”

  “I’m sorry, daddy.” Inhaling the spicy cologne of him, I snuggled against his chest. Jakub Dobry was much larger than I. Towering over me at 6’5”. I inherited my mom’s short height and her looks. Everything else? Was from my father.

  “Sorry. Always sorry.” He sighed. “Who is this man, Marketa? And do I have to kill him?”

  My stomach twisted. “His name is—”

  “Matteo Santos, sir.”

  My head whipped around at the deep voice coming up from behind me.

  “Jakub Dobry. So you speak Czech?” my father asked Matteo.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering why he never told me.

  “I speak many languages actually.” Matteo stood a foot away from me but the air crackled around us.

  “That’s a fantastic quality to have. Not many people know more than one language. And your accent is fluid.” My dad grunted. “Interesting.”

  Yeah. I’d say.

  “Sir, would you like a drink?” Nika offered my father.

  “No thank you, Nika. I have to get going.” He smiled down at me. “I have a meeting and I’m not in town for long but I want to have breakfast with you tomorrow morning.”

  I nodded. “Okay. I work at the diner at noon.”

  “I’ll drop you off.” He leaned down to my ear. “If he hurts you, I will make it so he never sees the light of day again.”

  I swallowed hard. “I know.”

  “Well then.” He held out his hand, looking over my head. “It was nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” Matteo said, grasping the other man’s hand.

  They stared long and hard at each other before my father broke the silence. He said some words in a language I didn’t know.

  I observed Matteo, wondering how long it would be before I knew everything about him.

  A slow smirk spread on his face and he responded.

  My dad nodded once, kissed my cheek, gave Nika a quick hug and left the confines of our apartment.

  “What the hell did he say to you? And what language was that?” Nika questioned, demanding answers.

  “Italian.” Matteo’s gaze slid my way.

  I didn’t say anything and sat on the couch.

  “Um…well I’ll give you two a moment.” Nika headed down the hall. “Oh and Mae, I need a girls’ night tonight. If that’s okay.”

  “Of course it is,” Matteo answered for me. “Talk to me,” he said when we were finally alone and sat beside me.

  “I didn’t know you spoke Czech.” I turned to him.

  “It never came up.” Matteo shrugged.

  “You shouldn’t play games with my dad. He’s not…he’s not a good man.” I didn’t want anything to happen to Matteo. Nothing at all but if he hurt me, my father would make good on his threat. I loved him but even I knew not to mess with the man.

  “The only one playing games here is you, Marketa.” His jaw clenched.

  “I’m not playing any games at all. I’ve told you what I wanted.” I crossed my arms under my chest.

  “I will get more out of you then you begging me to fuck you,” he purred. His mouth was inches from my ear, his hot breath searing across my being.

  “We were supposed to go to lunch,” I said, trying to change the subject.

  “And then you begged me to fuck you.” He trailed a finger down my arm, teasing me. Reminding me where he had been not too long ago.

  “But we didn’t get to do that now did we?”

  “Not yet, Marketa.” He kissed my cheek. “But we will.”

  Me: I’m sorry for ruining our date.

  Matteo: You didn’t ruin it. The anticipation of knowing that I will be inside your body soon makes me hard. It’s well worth the wait.

  Sweet mother of all things Holy.

  Me: I kind of left you in an awkward position.

  Matteo: If you are referring to blue balls, Marketa, I’ve had them since the moment I met you.

  “Put your phone away¸” Nika demanded, handing me a glass of wine. “I need this girls’ night. So no boys allowed.”

  Me: Nika is demanding I put my phone away.

  Matteo: Tell her that I am the only person allowed to demand things from you.

  Me: No! I’m not telling her that.

  Matteo: What would she say if she knew I had you bound by my belt mere hours ago?

  Me: Stop! Goodnight.

  Matteo: Have fun, sweet girl.

  I placed my phone on the table and sighed, scrubbing a hand down my face.

  “You got it bad, girl.” Nika crossed her ankles in front of her and popped a piece of chocolate into her mouth.

  “I don’t have anything. We haven’t been dating for that long. How can I have it bad already?” I didn’t understand the rules or the logistics of dating but I could only assume after one week, my heart shouldn’t be doing this constant pitter-patter whenever I thought about him. My stomach shouldn’t flip whenever I see him. It didn’t make sense.

  “Doesn’t matter how long you date for. The heart knows what it wants before it even happens.” She stared off into the distance, chewing her bottom lip.

  “Nika?”

  She smiled at me. “Enough about boys. Chick flick movie time!”

  Mae

  “Who was that man who came out of your bedroom, Marketa?” my dad asked me over breakfast the next morning.

  “His name is Matteo—”

  “I know what his name is.” He pointed his fork at me. “Who is he to you?”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to tell him for fear he would go after Matteo or worse, research his history. My father was over protective and not in a sweet way. I loved him dearly and appreciated all he did for me but his protectiveness bordered on possessive at times.

  “I will find out who is he so you might as well tell me.”

  “I’m not one of your goons you can boss around, daddy.”

  “Remember who you’re talking to,” his voice hardened.

  We continued our stare down.

  “I worry,” he said, breaking the unnerving silence.

  “I’m fine!” I insisted. “I am,” I repeated, softly.

  “You need to come home,” he said a moment later.

  “Why? You don’t need me there.” I hated to sound like a whiney brat but my father had a business to run. He was powerful in our small tow
n and owned pretty much every single thing the sun touched.

  “Let’s take a walk,” he said, his voice gruff.

  We left the small coffee shop, heading out into the early morning light. The sweet fresh smell of the summer air wafted into my nostrils.

  “I’m getting older, Marketa,” he said. He never called me by my nickname. “Your mom would want you home.”

  “But my mom is not there to ask that of me,” I said, my voice monotone.

  My dad stopped abruptly.

  A crowd of people neared us in the busy rush of the morning. They separated, walking around my father while he stood there, scowling down at me.

  People were scared of him. His dark eyes could pierce through a soul, knowing the secrets of your fantasies.

  “Come here. Now,” he demanded.

  His rough voice reminded me of Matteo and that sent a flutter racing through me. At my age, he still made me feel like a little girl.

  I let out a heavy sigh.

  Warm fingers pressed under my chin, tilting my head. My father gave me a small smile. “I worry about you. You are all I have left. Forgive me for being overprotective.”

  “But I’m thirty-three—”

  “You are still my baby. After…after everything that has happened, I want to keep you safe and you living thousands of miles away concerns me.”

  “I can’t go back there,” I whispered.

  “We’ll work something out. Now tell me, how did you meet this Matteo?”

  Happy to get off the subject of me, I told him I met Matteo at Cello’s and how we had been dating for a week. I also told him Matteo was a gentleman but that didn’t seem to earn him any brownie points. My father was a hard man. Rough around the edges. Kind of reminded me of Matteo in a way.

  I learned that my father was heading home the next day but promised to be back the following month. He made me promise him that if Matteo hurt me, to tell him.

  “I will always find out, Marketa. Anything happens to you, I will know.”

  My father’s words reined in my mind that night at work. I couldn’t focus on anything except for the two men in my life.

  One wanted to protect me. Save me from all the evils of the world.

  The other wanted to destroy me. In ways I couldn’t even begin to understand.