The Woman in the Wrong Place (Grassi Framily)

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hand massaging my ass as his cock finally started to slide back down, pressing against the entrance to my body for an agonizing moment before pressing inside. He didn’t stop until he took every last inch of me, making my walls contract around him, desperate for the feel of him.

His other hand moved to my hip, sinking in hard.

“This is not going to be slow and sweet, baby,” he warned, voice tense.

“Good,” I said, wiggling my hips against him.

A growl escaped him, the sound shivering through my system as his hands sank into my hips more tightly, slamming them backward against him as he thrust forward.

Just hard at first.

Hard and measured.

But it wasn’t long before he was slamming inside me faster and faster without losing his force, making me have to grab the tub more tightly or I would have gone flying out of it entirely.

“Work your clit for me,” Matteo demanded, voice rough.

“I have to hold on,” I whimpered back, still working my hips in circles against his cock.

On a growl, one of Matteo’s hands left my hip, going instead into my hair at the back of my neck, grabbing, curling, and pulling just to the point of pain, holding me in place.

“Touch yourself,” he demanded, tone brooking no argument.

Not that I could form one. Or even wanted to.

Whatever I could do to get the relief I so badly needed was exactly what I was going to do.

So my hand slid between my thighs as the other continued to press against the tub, making it so that my body moved just enough that Matteo’s fist in my hair sent off unexpectedly delicious sparks of pain across my scalp, but not quite so much that it genuinely hurt.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Matteo growled, pistoning into me as I worked my clit, feeling my walls getting tighter and tighter by the moment as he drove me right to that edge. “Come, baby. Squeeze my cock,” he demanded, voice barely audible, it was so tight.

And just like that, the orgasm slammed through my system, making my arms flail out, sending the body wash toppling to the ground.

Matteo was just quick enough to release my hip and slap a hand over my mouth, muffling my cries against his palm.

The waves crashed endlessly as Matteo fucked me through them before slamming deep and coming with a hissed curse.

I’d just barely managed to come back down into my system fully when there was a tap on the door that had both of us stiffening.

“Adrian sent me down here to check on you,” Nino’s voice called through the door. “Something about clattering. But I’m pretty sure you’re fucking, so consider yourself checked on.”

“Fuck off, Nino,” Matteo called, a mix of tense and amused.

“That’s what I thought,” Nino said, sounding equally amused as I felt my face heating up.

I mean, it was no secret that Matteo and I had been getting physical. Of course we were. We were two healthy adults who were into each other.

And, thanks to situations beyond our control, we’d had almost no completely alone time.

I knew we’d been overheard at least by Massimo in the past.

I shouldn’t have felt so embarrassed to have another member of his family figure us out.

But I couldn’t exactly help it, either.

“It’s fine,” Matteo assured me, pulling me back against his chest, pressing a kiss to my temple. “My Aunt Adrian used to toss condoms at us when we were going out at night like they were beads at Mardi Gras.”

“I guess I’ve just never had the worry of family overhearing, you know, anything.”

“They just heard you knock the bottle over,” Matteo assured me. “Nino assumed the rest. Rightly. But it was just an assumption.”

“That’s a little bit of comfort, I guess.”

“Some day soon, baby, we are going to be like a normal couple. With locked doors and people who ring the bell when they come around. And then I can fuck you on every surface of this house. And you can scream as loud as you want to.”

“Promise?” I asked, smiling a little at the mental image as my eyes drifted closed.

The orgasm had sapped what was left of my energy.

I just wanted to get dressed, get into bed, and pass out.

Luckily, that was exactly what Matteo had in mind as well.

So that was what happened.

I woke up the next morning to the smell of French toast.

At some point, Matteo must have left the bed after I drifted off, going out into the main area of the house, and dropping his hints to Nino like he said he would.

I didn’t get up immediately.

A part of me was still clinging to sleep. The other part was getting more and more aware of the pain in my throat. Worse than any sore throat I’d ever gotten in my life.