by Nikki Chase
Breathe. Whatever he poured on me, it cools quickly and hardens against my skin, the pain dulling into gentle warmth.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Matteo asks, clearly giving me an out if I want to end this game, utter my safe word. “It was just a little wax.”
As Matteo caresses my skin with his fingers, the heat that radiates from the point just above my belly button sends waves of pleasure to my center, making my body yearn for more.
“Are you okay, kitten?” His voice is gentle.
I nod. “Yes.”
“Good. That was your punishment for playing with yourself. Now, remember that day when I told you to wear nothing under your skirt and you disobeyed me?”
I jog my memory. “We were going to the park. There were other parents there.”
“Yes. That was exactly why I wanted you to do it. It wouldn’t have been much fun to go commando at home,” he says. “Now, just for complaining about it, I’ll double your punishment.”
“I’m sor—” My own cry cuts off my half-formed word.
“That’s two, kitten,” Matteo announces as the wax glides down my sides before it solidifies, forming a protective shell over me.
“Another one left,” I say.
“Exactly. But I won’t punish you now,” he says. “You’re making me so hard I can’t focus.”
A smile plays on my lips, and I reach my hands over the edge of the bed, touching Matteo’s thighs and searching until I find the evidence. He was telling me the truth. His cock is a big, hard bulge tenting the front of his pants.
Matteo groans as his cock jumps under my touch. Quick as lightning, he sheds his pants, removing the barrier between our skins. My fingers absorb the heat of his iron rod and trace the veins along his shaft.
“May I please suck your cock, Sir?”
“Of course.” The speed with which he answers spreads my smile even wider. I feel his hands grabbing me and pulling me into position, my head dangling over the edge of the bed. His voice is hoarse when he speaks again. “Open.”
I let my mouth hang open for him, feeling him push deeper and deeper inside. His thickness stretches my limits, making my eyes water. But the low grunts Matteo makes, the subtle twitching of his cock, the almost-velvety texture of his cock . . . I can’t stop.
Even if I’m not completely comfortable, this is exactly where I want to be, doing exactly what I want to do. Whatever brings me closer to Matteo—that’s where my happiness lies. Even if people think it’s wrong or perverted. Even if nobody else understands it.
When Matteo pulls himself out of me, a thin string of spittle pulls across my cheek. He makes a low sound, almost an animalistic grunt. “I’ve got to have you.”
“My pussy is yours, Sir.” I part my legs, knowing that will only whet his appetite. I want him to devour me, to unleash his hunger on me, to fuck me until he works us both into a mad frenzy.
“That’s right,” he says, climbing up to take his rightful place between my spread legs. I moan when he yanks my panties and grabs my thighs. “Fuck. You’re so fucking wet. You’re so wet for me.”
At the sound of his growl, my pussy reacts as if by instinct, clenching around air, craving to be filled. “I’m ready for you, Sir.”
“I know. I can smell your heat.” He thrusts into me—not slow, not gentle. It only takes one smooth motion for him to bury himself all the way to the hilt, knocking the wind out of me.
“Oh, God.” The sound-proof padding all over the walls absorb my moan. Nobody can hear us. It’s just Matteo and me. It’s a good thing I trust him completely because I wouldn’t be able to call for security from inside here.
Now that I’m a little older and a little wiser, I realize how stupid I was to have agreed to come into the private room with Matteo that first night we met. He could’ve been an axe murderer for all I knew.
At the same time, I couldn’t be happier it happened. Without that night, we wouldn’t have had the chance to get to know each other outside of any influence from our families. Sure, I probably wouldn’t have had to fake my own death, and we wouldn’t have had to miss out on four years of togetherness.
But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
My arousal builds and builds until I sense the peak just within reach. And then, Matteo pulls out of me.
I reach my hands toward where I think he is, attempting to grab onto him.
“Patience, kitten,” he says.
I cry out when heat stings my skin again. Wax. The third punishment.
“You’re okay,” he says soothingly, his finger pressing against my clit and rubbing me in lazy circles. He pushes two more digits into my pussy. My whimpers turn into moans, even as he presses a slick finger against my asshole.
My cheeks flame. I don’t know if I’m embarrassed by the pleasure I feel from his finger invading my ass, or if I’m burning up from lust. Maybe it’s both.
Matteo’s fingers brings me higher and higher with every stroke, every thrust. Just when I feel the peak within reach again, he pulls his fingers out of me.
I open my mouth to protest, but then he presses the head of his cock against my asshole. My heart thumps in my chest. We’ve talked about this a lot, but we’ve never actually done it.
“Relax, kitten,” he says. Then, he thrusts inside me. He goes slow, pulling back out every time he meets some resistance. When my forehead is covered with sweat, I hear his voice. “I’m all the way in. How does it feel, kitten?”
How does it feel to have my anal cherry popped? Sinful. Filthy. And arousing. I feel like Matteo has completely taken possession of me.
“Does it feel good?” he asks again.
Biting down on my lip, I nod. I can’t even speak.
Gradually, Matteo fucks me harder and faster, his fingers stroking the inside of my pussy and my clit. Already sensitive from my near-orgasms, I reach the peak and feel myself crash over the edge. I grab onto Matteo’s strong arms as my pussy clenches around him.
With a loud growl, he slams harder into me, his fingers digging into my flesh. I feel him twitch in my ass, the sensation strange and sensual. He grips my hips as he comes, shooting ropes of cum inside me.
As usual, Matteo pulls me into his embrace and strokes me gently, his hands a soothing balm. “I’d be very surprised if we’ve just caused another surprise conception.”
“Well, yeah. You’re not exactly in the right place for conception. Basic biology.” Laughing, I wrap my arms tighter around Matteo. This time, I won’t run away from him. Never.
Matteo has ruined me for other men. I can’t even fantasize about sex with someone else. I can’t come unless it’s Matteo’s dick inside me, unless it’s Matteo’s hands hurting me and bringing me pleasure at the same time.
Even if he enjoys inflicting pain on my body, Matteo is the man I’m meant to be with. Even if it’s not perfect, this is the life I’m meant to live.
Epilogue
Matteo—Six Years Later
“Are you kidding me?” Grace’s jaw drops open, half-outraged, half-laughing.
“Oh my God, Dad. Can I go in there?” Jack asks excitedly.
I ruffle Jack’s hair. I used to be able to do this with my hand just hanging by my side, but almost up to my shoulders now, and he dodges away when I try to do this. It’s a real challenge. I live a hard life, I know.
Today, though, Jack stays in place, although he’s almost vibrating from excitement. His manic eyes dart between my face and the tree house.
“Of course. It’s yours.” I barely finish talking before Jack darts off toward the new addition to our backyard.
“I left for a week, and this is what I come home to.” Grace shakes her head, but the small smile on her lips tells me she’s at least a little pleased. “You know how long it took me to find a birthday gift for him in Berlin? And how much of a hassle it was to ship it home? And now, you’ve outshined me.”
“What did you get for him?” I ask. The sun is still hanging low in the sky, and
nobody has presented Jack with presents for his ninth birthday yet—nobody but me.
“This battery-powered little car manufactured by Audi,” she says with a sigh.
“That’s a good gift.” I pause, folding my arms across my chest as I gaze at the glorious wooden structure perching atop a big-ass tree. There’s ladder for access, of course, as well as a bridge connecting it to the next tree. There’s even a wraparound balcony. “Just not as good as mine.”
Grace playfully punches my bicep. “Did you notice how Jack was dropping hints about some robot-building kit the last time Elena and Damon came over?”
“Yeah. Couldn’t have missed it. I sent Damon a purchase link to the kit last week but he told me Caleb had already shown him exactly which model to buy and where to buy it. Jack hasn’t exactly been subtle.” I laugh, remembering the chat I had with my best friend, who also happens to be my brother-in-law.
“God, he even managed to get Caleb to work for him.” Grace shakes her head, even as her lips curve up slightly. Deep down, I know she’s glad Jack is growing up with lots of love from both sides of the family. Even Rosa has shaped up into a decent human being and a doting aunt to my kids.
Almost immediately after the wedding, my dad and Marco Esposito became friends. It seems to me they had always respected each other despite the intergenerational war.
Now that they’re both grandparents to the same kids, it’s not uncommon to find them smoking cigars together while showing each other photos of said kids on their phones.
The only person who hasn’t forgotten her scars is Gio’s widow, who never shows up in family events if she knows I’d be there. Frankly, I don’t blame her.
“Seems like a mutually beneficial arrangement to me. Haven’t you noticed Jack ‘helping’ us pick a present for Caleb for his last birthday?” I draw quotes in the air.
“You think maybe we’re spoiling him?”
“Jack? Nah. You’ve got to admit he was outgrowing his old outdoor set,” I say, gesturing at the playground I installed six years ago when Grace and Jack first moved in.
“I guess you’re right. I just—”
“What is that?” a high-pitched voice comes from behind us. We turn around to find our Ashley, our five-year-old daughter, stumbling out of the house, rubbing her eyes in disbelief.
People say kids are like little drunk people, and I’ve got to say, I do see that in my kids. With her messy hair and unsteady gait, Ashley looks like she’s just had a big night at the bar.
“It’s called a treehouse, honey. It’s a birthday gift for Jack.” Grace slings her arm around Ashley’s shoulders, but she slips away, slippery as an eel, then continues her dazed walk toward the treehouse.
I chuckle. These kids are the most hilarious roommates I’ve ever had in my life. “I can’t wait until Tiffany wakes up. She’s going to love it.”
Grace lets out another sigh. “She’s only three. The old playground is just fine for her. She loves it.”
“Sure. There’s no reason why she can’t enjoy both, though.” I grin.
“I can see this turning into a full-blown fight before noon.”
“What an optimist.” I pull her close and kiss her forehead. “Don’t worry. There’s plenty of space for the three of them up there.”
With three kids, I live a full life. I don’t always get to spend a whole day with them, though, unless it’s a special occasion like today. Grace somehow manages to hold down the fort, even taking the kids on vacations with her parents every few months.
“Mom! Dad!” Jack and Ashley hold onto the railing of the balcony and wave at us as they jump up and down, giggling and screaming.
We named our first daughter Ashley to remember the time we spent apart. Even if it was hard to go through, it’s still a big part of our story.
Grace laughs as we both wave back at the kids. “Okay, I admit it; it’s a great present.”
“I know.” I give her a smug grin.
The gleam of joy in Grace’s eyes is always going to bring me joy. Even though I see it all the time, I know I won’t ever get bored of it. Making her happy will always make me happy.
“I can’t believe he’s already nine.” Grace smiles as she gazes wistfully at the kids running in and out of the treehouse. She yells out, “Hey, be careful up there!”
“They’ll be fine. Scrapes and bruises are a normal part of childhood,” I parrot something I read from one of the parenting books Grace had her nose in one time.
The golden rays of the morning sun makes Grace seem like she’s almost glowing when she laughs. One decade after we first met, she looks just as gorgeous as ever. “You always know what to say. It’s annoying.”
“Oh, come on. You love it. You love me. You can’t help it.”
Grace looks at me through the corner of her eye. She’s not doing a good job at suppressing her smile. “Okay. Yeah, I do. But you can be really irritating sometimes, especially when you come home late and leave me to fend for myself among these little monsters.”
I’ve been busy. I know Grace gets worried when I’m busy. She thinks I’ll be roaming some back alley, hitting a guy into a pulp and tossing him into the garbage bin—or worse.
Six years ago, when Grace decided to stay in my life for good, I knew that was the path of least resistance for her. It was the best option for Jack.
I was elated that she’d choose to be with me, of course. But I also asked her again and again to make sure this was the life she wanted. Without fail, she said yes.
But I also detected a tinge of sadness in her eyes, every time. An edge in her voice whenever I called to tell her I’d be home late. Being a mobster’s wife isn’t a walk in the park.
And that’s why I’ve been working even harder and spending more time outside the house. So she won’t have to sit around and wonder if I’ll be coming home in one piece anymore.
“I actually have a present for you too,” I say, a big grin stretching from ear to ear. I was planning to tell her tonight, after the birthday party, but the secret is begging to be let out now.
“Where did you hide the other treehouse?” she asks, craning her neck to scan the backyard.
“Funny. You’re not getting a treehouse.”
“A dungeon, then? With a cage, some restraints, paddles . . . It’s so hard to find the time to go to the club lately.” She shoots me a naughty, flirty smile.
“I love your dirty mind. But it’s better.”
Grace tilts her head quizzically.
“Remember the side business I’ve been working on?” For the past three years, I’ve been working with a construction company to build an apartment building in an up-and-coming neighborhood.
Grace gently furrows her eyebrows. “Yeah . . .”
“We finally finished construction last week. My property manager has already begun marketing it, and we’ve got a ton of applications already.”
“Wow. That’s great news,” Grace says, obviously not getting the significance of the event yet. She smiles. “So you’ve given me a unit, then?”
“No. You’re getting me.”
“I’ve already got you,” she says.
“I’ve been slowly letting go of my dad’s business, selling our assets, handing them off to other people. I didn’t tell you because I wanted to wait until everything was settled. And now, it’s done. You’re looking at a completely legit entrepreneur. So, now I’ve got an office you can visit at any time. And I’ve hired people to manage the business for me.” I laugh. “It’s going to take Hector and Franco a lot of effort to adjust, but they’ll make great assistants.”
As I speak, Grace’s face brightens up. “Are you serious?”
“I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”
“Oh my God!” Grace squeals just as excitedly as Jack did mere minutes ago, jumping up and down as she throws her arms around me.
“I know!” I jump with her. “I’m the best gift-giver ever.”
Grace laughs, and eventua
lly, we stand still, panting as we embrace. “I’m getting too old to jump around like that.”
I laugh. “You’ll never be old in my eyes.”
“I didn’t know you were working on something like that.”
“I’ve already lost so much time. I don’t want to miss anything more. I want to be there by your side as our kids grow up.”
“I love you,” she whispers. When her cheek grazes against my neck, I feel something wet on my skin.
“I love you too, kitten. And I hope those are tears of joy.”
She giggles. “Of course. I can’t be happier.”
Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed Grace and Matteo’s story.
Want more?
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xx,
Nikki
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Preview: His Captive
Elena
“Elena. I can’t believe you’re here. What a sight for sore eyes,” says a familiar, deep baritone.
My heart skips a beat.
Is it him?
I checked my dad’s secretary’s book of appointments so I knew he was coming.
“Hey, Damon.” I glance up at him in the breeziest, most casual way possible, as if I haven’t been waiting for him all day. “Here to see my dad?”
“You know it.” Damon strides toward me with his long legs and confident smile. He’s wearing a pair of faded jeans and a plain, white shirt underneath a black, leather jacket.
“How’s life?”
“Eh, can’t complain. Especially now that I’ve seen you.” He stands by my couch and spreads his arms open. “Holy shit, you’re all grown up now.”