Beautiful Pain

by J. M. Walker

  We worked up a rhythm that threw us both over the edge into an ocean of wonderful bliss.

  I cried out his name, ecstasy crashing into me like that of a tidal wave.

  He grunted, satisfied that he was giving me the pleasure he knew I craved. “That’s it, pet. Show your Master what it is that you want.”

  Matteo’s words washed over me, tickling my skin.

  Master.

  That one word. Two syllables. It meant so much more than what I could imagine. “Master,” I whispered.

  “That’s right.” He kissed me slowly. “Let me be the one to truly dominate you.”

  “Yes,” I answered automatically.

  “Let me be the man who knows what you crave. Who owns you. Who gives you the freedom to close off your mind and just be.”

  “Please.”

  “Let me.”

  “Yes. Oh yes,” I screamed, an explosion erupting through me, hitting me fast and hard.

  Matteo sped up his hips, jumping off the cliff of pleasure right along with me.

  When our erratic breathing calmed, we didn’t let go of each other. No talking but feeling while we stayed connected.

  “I love you,” he whispered, his lips caressing the shell of my ear. “I don’t deserve you but I will do everything I can to keep you. I’m sorry. For everything.”

  I shut him up with a kiss, not needing to hear any more. “I love you. You love me. Help me be the submissive you need.”

  “And I’ll be the Dominant that you need.”

  “You already are.” I kissed his face. “Be my Master. Please.”

  He brushed a hand over my forehead, pushing my bangs out of my eyes. “You want that? You trust me enough to give yourself to me? Even for a little bit at a time?”

  “Yes.” I didn’t know why or how but everything changed. In a matter of minutes, as soon as he mentioned being my Master, I could feel myself submitting completely. It was what I had wanted all along. I realized it now. I needed his control. I needed him to take over my mind. With everything that had been going on, I needed it now more than ever.

  “I love you,’ he said again.

  “I love you.” I hugged him, wrapping my body around him. “You are safe, my love.”

  He nodded. “And you are safe with me. No matter what happens. Please remember that.”

  “Can we do this?” I asked, not wanting to move from this tender moment.

  “I don’t know.” He righted his pants and kissed me again. “But I am stubborn. We will make this work.”

  “Good.”

  Matteo

  “What if he doesn’t like me?” Mae asked as we stepped into the elevator.

  “I don’t care what my father thinks.” Which was a lie. I had tried so hard throughout the years to impress the man but nothing fucking worked. If he wouldn’t have been judged, he no doubt would have given me away. I had blamed my mom at times. Demanding why she left me to be raised by a monster. A man who clearly never wanted me. A man who didn’t love anyone but himself. She died. He changed. I begged for the day that he wouldn’t look at me with pain in his eyes.

  “Matteo?”

  The concern in Mae’s voice grated on my nerves. It wasn’t her fault. I appreciated her need to protect me but I couldn’t help it. “Don’t,” I snapped. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

  Mae raised an eyebrow. “You need to let me be concerned for you, my love. You can’t deal with this on your own.”

  Maybe not. But I would fucking try. My nerves raced through me. It was the same thing every time I saw my dad. He judged. I became angry. Never proud of what I had succeeded in, he told me I could always do better. I could always be better.

  “Stop trying to handle everything by yourself.” Mae grabbed my hands, kissing each of my knuckles.

  That small touch calmed me.

  “It’s all I’ve ever done. I don’t know how to ask for help,” I mumbled, needing to get this meeting over with.

  “We’re in this together. You hurt. I hurt.”

  “Fuck I love you.” I kissed her hard on the mouth, breathing in the love she had for me, deep down into my lungs.

  She sighed, wrapping her arms around my middle. “I love you.” She winked. “Master.”

  Shit that was hot. My body buzzed. I kissed her once again and braced myself for the onslaught of seeing my dad.

  We reached the penthouse floor, being met by two of my dad’s bodyguards.

  “My son,” a deep booming voice vibrated through me.

  I turned to the sound coming from down the hall. “Father.”

  The large man walked towards us, stopping when his gaze landed on Marketa. “Ah. You must be Miss Dobry.” He extended his hand. “I’m Edwin Santos.”

  Mae returned the handshake.

  He frowned. “Do I know you?”

  “I don’t think so.” Mae bristled beside me, wrapping her fingers around my arm.

  “Are you sure about that?” My dad questioned, smoothing a hand through his dark hair.

  “Mae?” I didn’t know what he was getting at.

  “I…do you know my dad maybe?” she asked, her voice shaking.

  “Hmm…” my dad rubbed his jaw. “Yes,” he snapped his fingers. “Jakob Dobry?”

  Mae nodded.

  “That’s right. I knew I recognized your last name from somewhere.” He laughed.

  I rolled my eyes. “You researched who she is. Stop bullshitting around the truth and admit it.”

  My dad’s gaze slowly slid to mine, his dark eyes hardening. “Fine. But I do know her father.”

  I pulled Mae alongside me, walking past my dad. “Are we going to have this meeting in the hallway?” I called out over my shoulder when my dad didn’t budge.

  “I’m not fond of this attitude, boy,” my father switched to Spanish, his words taking on a bite of contempt.

  “Well get used to it, father,” I said, my words dripping with sarcasm.

  “It seems, Marketa,” he said, speaking in English. “That you need to put a chain on my son’s anger.”

  “No offense, sir, but I don’t need to anything when that anger isn’t geared towards me.”

  My lips pulled into a small smile, thankful for the woman who had my back.

  My dad glanced between us. “Well this is going to be fun.”

  “Matteo, I’m sorry.” Mae chewed her bottom lip.

  “I know, pet.” I kissed her softly on the mouth and spoke low enough so only she could hear. “Don’t speak unless I say.”

  She nodded.

  “Good girl,” I praised, grateful she didn’t ask any questions. She knew I would explain later but right now, I needed to dominate her in ways she never imagined.

  She stood by my side, looking down at the floor, submitting. So fucking submissive.

  “Interesting,” my dad said, glancing at Mae’s stance. “I see you have taken use of my training whether you like it or not.”

  I chewed my inner cheek, forcing myself not to lash out at my father for fear of scaring Mae. “Why did you call me here?” I asked instead.

  “I wanted to meet the woman that brought my son to his knees.” My father grinned, opening the double set of doors.

  Fucker.

  Mae kept by my side, holding tight onto my arm.

  “How are you doing?” I whispered in her ear.

  “Don’t worry about me, Sir,” she answered softly.

  God, I loved her.

  “Now tell me,” my dad walked to the bar at the far corner of the large hotel suite. “How did you two meet?”

  “At the side of the road,” I mumbled.

  “Right.” He chuckled. “I’ve met many women there before.”

  I wouldn’t doubt it. And people thought I was a sadistic bastard.

  “Drink?” He held out a tumbler filled with amber liquid.

  “Did you want a drink, pet?” I asked Mae, brushing my hand to her nape.

  “Yes please.” She nodded vigorously.

&
nbsp; Smart girl. We took our drinks and sat on the white leather couch with Mae kneeling at my feet.

  I almost demanded for her to sit on the couch beside me but I knew that my father wouldn’t approve of it. Mae saved me from getting questioned by him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing her cheek.

  She nodded.

  “I hate to interrupt this little moment,” my dad said waving a hand between us. “But we need to talk.”

  Mae inched a hand under my pant leg, brushing her thumb back and forth over my calf.

  “Fine. Talk,” I said, sitting back on the couch.

  “How well do you know Morgan Weis?”

  (Mae)

  Matteo stiffened behind me, his grip on my hair tightening. “Why?”

  Not being able to look up, I listened to the interaction going on around me. Mr. Santos egged Matteo on. For whatever reason, he didn’t treat his son the way a father should.

  “Just answer the question,” Mr. Santos demanded. “I’ve heard some rumors and I want to know if they’re true.”

  “I’ve told you everything. As much as I could until you told me to leave your presence. You were disgusted that I allowed such a thing to happen. How could I, Matteo Santos, the son of the prestigious, Edwin Santos, fall victim to a woman?”

  A shiver of unease washed over me at Matteo’s words.

  “You said that never happened.”

  “I lied,” Matteo shouted.

  “Marketa,” Edwin barked. “Leave us.”

  “Like fuck. She leaves, so do I.”

  I remained completely still, refusing to listen to the man who treat the only son he had like shit.

  “Fine. You want to do this with her here? By all means.” Edwin sat forward¸ slamming the tumbler on the table. “Look at me, girl.”

  I swallowed hard when his dark eyes pierced into mine. I had seen that look before. It was intense. Filled with scrutiny and lack of trust. Matteo had given me that same look time and time again.

  “Do you love my son?”

  “Yes. With everything in me”

  “Good. I pray you still love him after tonight.”

  His words registered inside of me. Why he said what he did was beyond me. Of course I would love Matteo after the night was over. Nothing would make my feelings for him change. As much as his relationship with Morgan sickened me, it was before I was ever in the picture. I trusted him when he told me that he hadn’t fucked her since meeting me. Even though I was sure she tried. But her men, the evil bastards she had at her beck and call daily, bothered me more. Matteo never told me the exact details on what had happened the last time he saw them. But the fresh wounds on his back told me that it wasn’t a pleasant visit.

  “Marketa,” Edwin said softly.

  “I will love Matteo no matter what happens or what is said.”

  “Good girl.” Edwin peered at his son. “Tell me why you agreed to meet with me when it’s been at least a year since we saw each other last.”

  “You asked me here,” Matteo said, his hand cupping my nape.

  “I’ve asked to meet up before today and you have always made excuses.” Edwin’s brows narrowed. “What’s wrong?”

  Matteo shifted behind me. “I…I need your help.”

  My heart jumped, knowing it wasn’t easy for Matteo to get those words out when the relationship he had with his father had been estranged for so long.

  “You need my help?” Edwin’s eyes widened.

  “Fuck. Yes. Don’t make me beg. I am your fucking son.”

  “Start acting like it then,” Edwin snapped.

  “Fuck you, dad. I have tried to act like your fucking son since the day I was born. But you shut me out. You blamed me for your wife’s, my mothers, death. You treated me like a disease. Why didn’t you throw me away if you didn’t want me? Why did you have to raise me in that shit? Why did you let me meet her?” Matteo threw question after question at his father, his voice only getting louder and louder.

  Edwin never backed down. “I never blamed you for your mother’s death.”

  Matteo scoffed. “Wow. Are you fucking shitting me right now?”

  “Watch it, boy.”

  “No. I’m done.” Matteo released me, sitting forward. “You can threaten me all you want but it’s nothing compared to what I’ve been through already. Do you know how it feels when you tell someone something in confidence and they don’t believe you? I opened up to you. I was scared. I was broken. I am still fucking broken. I came to you, begging for your help in getting Morgan to leave me alone. But you never believed me. You called me a pussy for allowing Morgan to dominate me.”

  “Matteo—”

  “No. Let me finish. You want me to talk? Well I’m fucking talking.” Matteo stood up. “I never wanted Morgan. I never wanted to feel her claws dig into my skin. I never wanted to feel her men rip into my body, forcing me to succumb to the wrath of their power.” Matteo turned, tearing his dress shirt in half.

  The color drained from Edwin’s face as he stared up at the pink jagged scars on his son’s back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Matteo slumped back on the couch, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I tried.” He sighed, admitting a final defeat.

  “My son.” Edwin swallowed noisily. “I am so sorry.”

  “Are you?” Matteo bit out.

  “Matteo,” I said, not able to keep quiet any longer.

  His gaze shot to mine, challenging me to speak out of turn again.

  My mouth snapped closed and I folded my hands in my lap, silently apologizing to him.

  “I am sorry,” Edwin repeated. “How could I not be? I’ve treated you like I never wanted you since the day you were born. I raised you in a fucking brothel. Who does that? I’ve taught you things as a boy that you shouldn’t know until you get older.”

  “It’s fine,” Matteo grumbled.

  “It’s not fucking fine!” Edwin bellowed, shoving to his feet abruptly. “No wonder you never wanted to see me. God, how can I ever expect for you to forgive me?”

  “You can’t.”

  (Matteo)

  Never in my life had I watched my father beg for my forgiveness. A part of me was satisfied that he was groveling. I reveled in the fact that he felt guilty. It wasn’t right but I needed that moment at least for a little bit.

  The three of us sat there in silence, the pink fucking elephant in the room, breathing in all the air surrounding us.

  “Matteo.” My father’s voice dripped with pity.

  “Don’t.” I raised a hand, stopping him. “Just don’t.”

  Dropping my head in my hands, I let out a deep sigh. As much as I wanted to hurt him, as much as I wanted him to experience the pain I had been through, I couldn’t do anything. I just sat there. My mind brought me back to when I was a boy being scolded for something I didn’t do. But this time I did do something. I gave in because I couldn’t do anything else.

  “Sir.” Mae’s soft voice pulled me back to the here and now.

  I wanted to lash out. Demand for her to stop talking when I hadn’t given her permission to do so but I was tired. Exhausted. I hadn’t worked in days because I just couldn’t deal. I knew I was falling into a deep depression. I was drowning. The black hole of anxiety and despair threatening to consume me. The darkness billowed around me, trying to take over my mind. I was falling, drowning in the sea of utter defeat.

  “Sir,” Mae repeated, her voice becoming firm. But it sounded strange. I could hear her. I could see her beautiful face. But I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I was stuck. In time. In a place I didn’t want to be. I could feel the impending panic attack. The fall as I liked to call it. It usually happened whenever I tried to go to sleep. This was different. It was harder and more intense.

  “Matteo.” At that point my father sat beside me, clapping a hand on my nape.

  I tried shoving him off but it didn’t work. I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

  “Sir.” Mae rose to her knees and cupped my cheeks.
“Breathe, my love. Hear my voice. Think of me and see only me. Please,” her voice wavered. “Matteo.”

  My chest constricted, tightening to the point of painful. My lips became parched as I tried to swallow. This wasn’t normal. A tingle shot up my left arm, piercing straight through to my heart. I gripped my chest, breathing in short bursts of air. Fuck me. It hurt. I hunched over, digging my fingers into my peck. God. Shit.

  “Matteo.” Mae’s voice. A scream.

  “Shit.” My father.

  I couldn’t focus. My vision faded in and out. All I heard was “ambulance” and “heart attack”.

  I was done, falling victim to the darkness, with a smile on my face.

  Matteo

  “My baby boy. Wake up. Mama is so proud of you. I love you. I miss you. I’m here. Wake up my precious child.”

  I groaned, my body heavy and light all at the same time.

  “Matteo, sweetheart. Wake up.”

  I didn’t recognize the feminine voice but it was melodious, music to my ears and it caressed me in a way I never felt before. Love. So much love dripped from the words.

  “You need to wake up. Marketa needs you. Wake up.”

  My eyes shot open, stinging from the bright fluorescent light shining in my face. “Fuck.” I groaned, my throat dry and sore like I had gargled with broken glass. I tried moving but my limbs felt heavy. I was a dead weight and all I could do was lay there.

  A gasp sounded from a few feet away with Marketa suddenly coming into my field of vision. The light shone around her, casting her in an unearthly glow. “Are you an angel?”

  She smiled down at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. “No, my love.”

  I frowned. “What happened?”

  “You had a heart attack,” her voice cracked. “I’ve never been so happy to see you open those beautiful eyes.”

  “Heart attack…” I tested the word on my tongue. “How?”

  “Your heart was stressed. It was warning you that you need to take it easy.”

  Yeah. Like that would ever happen. I tried sitting up but my body felt weighed down. This fucking sucked.

  “Don’t move, Sir. You need to rest,” Mae said gently.

  “No. I need you to crawl into this bed with me so I can feel your warmth.” No heart attack was going to stop me from touching my woman.