Beautiful Pain

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Beautiful Pain Page 25

by J. M. Walker


  “Well since neither of you are going to tell me what’s going on, I’ll leave you be.” Nika grabbed her purse.

  “I’ll tell you when I’m ready,” I reassured her.

  She chewed her bottom lip, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “Because we need to talk anyways.”

  “Okay.”

  She pulled me in for a tight hug. “Don’t worry so much. Spend time with your man and get everything good between you two first before you worry about others.”

  I pulled back. “How did you know that everything isn’t fine?”

  She shrugged. “I know you. You’ve been through hell. You have to deal with your personal shit before you expect what you both have to be perfect.”

  “Are you a psychologist now?” But she was right. Matteo and I both had trust issues. Who knew how long it would take for us to trust each other completely.

  “She just knows you, Marketa,” Matteo answered for her.

  “It’s not me that needs to work through my personal issues,” I reminded them both.

  “I know.” Nika gave me another hug before she turned back to Matteo. “You hurt her and I will make it so you never fuck anything again.”

  I choked. “Nika.”

  Matteo threw his head back and laughed. “Good to know.”

  “He won’t hurt me,” I promised Nika. Of course I had no way of knowing for sure but I believed with all of my heart that if anyone was going to get hurt, it would be both of us.

  “Well you kids have fun. Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.” Nika winked at me and left the apartment.

  I laughed to myself.

  “Marketa.”

  My laughter died at Matteo’s firm use of my name.

  “Come here, pet.”

  A soft sigh left me and I knelt at his feet.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, wrapping his hand around the base of my throat.

  “Better.” I curled my arm around his leg, needing more than his touch. I needed all of him. I craved every single inch. His mind. His body. His soul. Every piece of his being.

  “Mae,” he breathed, his voice rough. “I need you to trust me,” he said, brushing his fingers along my collar bone. “But I know it’s hard because it’s something that I need to work on as well. Together I know we can trust completely. I need to deal with my fear.”

  “Matteo.”

  “I know I do. Morgan can’t hurt me anymore.”

  “But her men can,” I pointed out, disgusted that another human being could even consider doing what Morgan had done to Matteo.

  “They can.” Matteo sat back, scratching his jaw. “But they won’t. Not anymore. I’m sick of not sleeping. I’m sick of being fucking terrified that I’ll hurt you. This ends. Right now.”

  “How?”

  “I hate asking for help but I’m going to talk to my father.”

  My eyes widened. “Do you think that will work?”

  “Yes.” His body stiffened.

  “What will he do?”

  Matteo paused. “He will make it so I don’t have to fear for my soul.”

  (Matteo)

  “The first time I met Morgan, I thought it would be a one night stand. But I learned rather quickly that even if she didn’t want me, no one else could. She dug her claws into me until I was hooked. I couldn’t move on even if I wanted to until I met you,” I told Marketa, running a hand up and down her bare back. She had taken off my dress shirt much to my objection. I wanted her to feel comfortable but she said that she wanted the cool air caressing her skin. “You make me want to fight for my freedom.”

  Mae lifted her head, her brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

  I paused, thinking over my next words carefully before continuing. “I haven’t felt free in years. Since meeting her, I’ve been shackled by chains of fear, only now finding the key that would release me.” I cupped Mae’s nape. “You are that key. You’ve always been that key. I never realized it until now.”

  “Matteo,” she whispered, her chin quivering.

  “I know I can be difficult and I have inner shit to deal with. But I need your patience now more than ever. Please. I love you. No matter what happens, know that. If you don’t believe anything else, believe that I love you.”

  Marketa slid up my body and placed a firm kiss on my lips. “No matter what.”

  A twinge of unease fluttered through me. We needed to talk about the fact that she could be pregnant. As much as it made me go all caveman, I needed to make sure she was happy. I loved her. Did I want to spend my life with her and fuck as many babies into her as I could? Hell fucking yes.

  “We need to talk.” Mae sat up, brushing her dark hair out of her face.

  “We do.” I followed suit, sitting beside her and held her hand. She was completely naked. I could see every inch of her. The swell of her full breasts rising and falling with each breath. The v that dipped between her closed legs. Her curvaceous hips, perfect for the rough touch of my hands. She was bare. And I was not. Sitting fully clothed while she wore nothing at all, was a power play between us both. She submitted. I Dominated. I could bend her over at any time and fuck her until she broke but I wouldn’t. I was a Sadist. I enjoyed watching her squirm.

  She glanced at me every so often, begging me with her bright eyes. She wanted me to touch her. She probably wondered why I hadn’t yet. I was in control. Always. Now. And forever. The only thing Marketa had any say in was the use of her safeword. And even then, I made it so she never had to use it. But in the back of her mind, she knew it was there. Like a security blanket.

  “Matteo?” Marketa frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “The only thing that isn’t wrong in my life,” I pinched her chin. “Is you.” I slid my hand over her lower stomach. “If you are carrying my baby, we will make this work. I will love it with every piece of me. I will give it the childhood I never had. I will be wrapped around its little finger, waiting for it to tell me what to do every damn day of my life. And you,” I cupped Marketa’s cheeks, wiping away the tears that were now falling freely down her face. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I never even thought of falling in love before you. I never thought of marriage or kids. I thought I would be alone and just fuck my way through the rest of my life. But the first time I saw you at Cello’s, I could see the submission in your eyes. I could sense that you were mine even before it happened. I knew I had to have you. Even if it was only to help you heal. Sex doesn’t have to happen between a Dom and a sub for it to work.”

  “It’s an added bonus,” Mae said, blinking past fresh tears.

  “Yes. It is.” I kissed her mouth. “But I knew there was something about you that I had to have. I could see myself in your eyes.”

  “Were you scared?”

  “Yes,” I said without hesitation.

  “What if I am pregnant? Can we deal with a baby when we’re going through our own problems?”

  “Every parent, no matter if the baby is planned or not, has problems. They say being a mom is the hardest job. But being a father is hard as well. The man not only has to take care of his child, but also his wife,” I explained, knowing if she was pregnant with my baby, I would do anything in my power to make sure she was comfortable.

  “You’ll take care of me?” Mae asked, chewing her bottom lip.

  “Of course. Even if you aren’t pregnant, I will take care of you. Always.”

  “Matteo,” she breathed.

  “As much as I want to make you lose your breath even more,” I kissed her forehead. “We have to go.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re meeting my father.”

  (Mae)

  Nervous wouldn’t even begin to describe how I was feeling at the moment. My body vibrated with anxiety. My stomach twisted with unease. Meeting Matteo’s father for the first time threw me off. I couldn’t settle my mind, knowing what Matteo had grown up in. His father knew about Morgan from what I had heard but I wasn’t s
ure how much. From what I understood, Matteo had given up trying to convince his dad that Morgan was a monster. A man shouldn’t be able to submit to a woman. No son of mine falls into the pits of a woman’s wrath. Blah. Blah. Blah.

  When Matteo had told me that, I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Shocked at the way a father could treat his son, I started crying. For him. For me. For our shitty childhoods. For the possible baby I was carrying.

  “Don’t cry for me, pet,” Matteo had whispered across my lips. “I’m not worth it.”

  But he was. And that only made me cry harder. He was worth every single tear my eyes had shed. “You are worth it.” But I could see the doubt. “Please believe me.”

  He didn’t.

  While we drove to the hotel Mr. Santos was staying at, the tension grew and grew between us.

  “How long has it been since you’ve seen your father?” I asked Matteo.

  “Not long enough,” he mumbled, gripping the steering wheel tight in his hands.

  “Did he say why he wanted to meet up?” I placed a hand gently on his arm.

  Matteo sighed, his body relaxing into my touch. The tightness in his jaw loosened. He grabbed my hand, kissing my knuckles. “He wants to meet you. We were going to have dinner but with everything that has happened today, I had to push this meeting back.”

  “Why does he want to meet me?”

  “He wants to know who I’m dating.”

  “You don’t seem happy about that.”

  “I’m not. My father is a private man but he likes to pry into my business. I’m almost forty years old but he still thinks he can demand to know every single fucking thing about me. I can’t help but feel like a little boy whenever I’m with him. No matter what I do, he doesn’t approve. He doesn’t show me any affection that a father should. He…” Matteo’s breath caught. “Fuck.”

  “I’m so sorry, my love. I…” What could I say? I didn’t know how he felt. I didn’t know what do accept to be there for him.

  “It is what it is.”

  “Are you going to try talking to him? About Morgan?”

  “I have no fucking choice. I can’t deal with her on my own. I’m not strong enough. And my father is going to give me shit for that.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Yes. I do,” Matteo snapped. “You don’t know my father. You don’t know what he does to men that submit. He doesn’t believe that women can be dominant. His whole fucking belief is disturbing and sometimes I wish I didn’t have his blood running through me.”

  “You are not your father. You are Matteo Santos. You are strong. Just because you submitted to Morgan even though you were forced to, it doesn’t make you any less of a man.” I had a few choice words for his father. I didn’t care how powerful he was.

  “I appreciate what you’re saying but it won’t make a different.” Matteo pulled into the parking lot of the tall hotel before turning to me.

  “And why not? Be you. Don’t be what everyone else wants. You are Dr. Matteo Santos. A sadistic passionate lover. You are powerful. In everything you do,” I reminded him, needing him to see reason.

  “A sadistic passionate lover, huh?” he repeated, waggling his eyebrows.

  “Seriously?” I rolled my eyes. “That’s what you took from all of that?”

  Matteo shrugged. “I’m trying to lighten the mood, Marketa.”

  “I know.” I opened the passenger door. “Let’s get this done and over with so I can spend the rest of the night relieving you of your stress.”

  “Close the door,” he said, a sly grin spreading on his face.

  His demand sent a tingle of desire through my body. “We have to go meet your father.”

  “Close. The. Door.”

  I swallowed hard, doing as I was told. “Matteo.”

  “Get in the back.” His eyes became dark as night, a shadow passing over his face.

  At this point, I knew there was no sense in arguing. I crawled into the back as Matteo left the vehicle. He opened the door, taking off his jacket. Rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, the thick veins in his forearms protruded from the movements.

  “On your stomach, pet.” His voice rough and gravelly, took on an edge that dared me to disobey.

  Without any hesitation, I rolled onto my front.

  The door closed and a warm body pressed against me. “You want to relieve me of this stress.”

  “Yes,” I said, gripping the leather seat.

  “You want to make me feel better.” Matteo’s hands roamed up my hips, pushing my dress to my waist.

  “Yes,” I licked my lips. “Always.”

  “How?” he asked, pulling my thong to my knees.

  “By submitting. By connecting with you not only on a physical level, but a mental one as well.”

  “Hmm…” he brushed his nose up the length of my neck. “What else?”

  “By letting you control me,” I panted, pleasure for the man on top of me, seeping into the air I breathed.

  “I already control you, sweet girl,” he purred, digging his fingers into the flesh of my rear. “But right now, my beast wants to come out and play.”

  Mae

  Matteo touched me like an artist stroking a brush across a blank canvas. We were perfect together, moving as one while our bodies stayed connected. Every second he was inside of me, it only brought me higher and higher to the precipice of exploding.

  “I’d rather spend the night like this, making love to your delicious body.”

  “Own me. Lose yourself inside of me, my love.”

  Our words mixed as one, flowing together, becoming the air surrounding us.

  He grunted, pushing deeper into me. “I can’t.”

  “Matteo.”

  “No,” he coughed. “I can’t. Not with you. Don’t make me lose myself. Please,” he pleaded.

  “I —”

  “No.” His fingers dug into my hip. “Stop. Talking,” he whispered, his hot breath searing across my skin. “I want you to be quiet.”

  I bit my tongue to keep from crying out.

  Matteo covered me completely, his hips slowly moving against my lower body. “I don’t like it when you demand things of me.”

  “You demand things of me,” I retorted, not caring in the least that I spoke against his commands.

  His body stiffened but soon relaxed a moment later. “I should be pissed that you defy me.”

  “But you’re not,” I pointed out, linking our fingers.

  “No. I’m fucking hard. So. Fucking. Hard. Marketa.” His body grew inside of me, swelling to the point all I felt was him. His hips stopped.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, squirming beneath him.

  “I’m memorizing you.” He brushed his nose along my nape, inhaling deep before turning me onto my back. With a gentle hand, he brushed it down the side of my face. “I’m confused. I want to stop. I know I should but I can’t. I need to lose myself but it scares me.” His body stiffened.

  “Don’t stop, Sir. Please don’t stop.”

  “I…fuck. I refuse to lose myself.” His pace quickened. “I can’t. Not even for you,” he whispered.

  “I’m not asking for you to submit to me,” I reassured him, bracing myself for the true wrath of his beast.

  “No?” he grabbed my rear, pulling me further under him. “You don’t want me to submit to you? You don’t want to be like Morgan and control me in every fucking way possible?”

  “What? No! Of course not.” I cupped his face. “How could you even ask me that?”

  “I don’t know.” He lowered his head into the crook of my neck. “I don’t fucking know.” His voice was muffled by my hair, deep and melodious. Captivating. “I trust you but then I get these thoughts, it’s like a battle in my head. One second I’m fine, loving you, and then the next moment I’m questioning everything.”

  “I…” A lump formed in my throat at his true confession. I had no idea what to say.

  “Tell me. Tell me you want
to control me. You want to fuck with my head. You want me to believe that I am safe.”

  “No. None of that is true. But you are safe with me. I promise you that.”

  “I am?” he asked, his lips parting slightly.

  My heart broke. I could feel it ripping in half. But I understood why he questioned me. He had never been safe. No one had helped him throughout the years. His conflicting emotions took a toll on him. “You are. You are safe, my love.”

  “Say it again,” he pleaded, his mouth moving down the length of my jaw.

  “You’re safe. With me. As long as we are together, you are safe,” I told him. “Safe,” I repeated that word, trying my hardest to convince him that I would never hurt him. I was his family. I would be there for him no matter what. Whatever happened with his father, whatever happened with Morgan, Matteo would always have me.

  His mouth covered mine, his hands massaged and kneaded. The passion ensnared us, binding us in a rope of love and desperation. His grunts. My whimpers. I deepened the kiss until all I tasted, all I breathed was him.

  This was what made us work. Never in my whole life had I felt so connected to another person. I knew every inch of Matteo. I had him engrained in my mind. In my soul. I memorized him. I knew what he liked. What made him tick. What made him open to me in ways that scared him. Well I was scared too. He had a permanent grip on my heart and with one twist, one wrong move and it would break into tiny pieces of utter defeat. Only he could destroy the barrier I had worked so hard at building over the years.

  “Stop thinking, pet.” Matteo held me tight against him. “Stay with me. Focus on the here and now.”

  “I’m trying,” I whimpered, tilting my hips.

  “Look at me, beautiful girl,” he coaxed.

  I wanted to kiss him and swallow the sounds of pleasure leaving his lips. But I couldn’t. I was captivated by the darkness hidden behind his eyes.

  “Keep looking at me,” he demanded. “Watch my face as we please each other. Don’t look away, pet.”

 

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