I laid there, panting and trying to regain my ability to move. When I opened my eyes, it was to Matteo shoving his own underwear down his legs and kicking them off. He pulled his fingers free of me and spread my legs wide from where they'd wrapped around his head. Sliding up my body, his hips lined up with mine so he could grind his length against my wet core. His lips found mine in a bruising, claiming kiss that seemed even more primal because he tasted like me. He reached down, sliding himself through my wet and notching his head at my entrance. Pulling away from my lips, he groaned, "Tell me you're mine."
Still recovering from my orgasm, I nodded in a daze.
"Words, Angel. Give me the words."
"Yours," I murmured, cupping his cheek with a delirious smile and tugging him down to kiss him again. He slid inside me slowly, filling me until there wasn't a single inch that couldn't feel him.
"Fuck," he groaned against my mouth. He reached down, wrapping my legs around his hips. Our foreheads pressed together; our mouths not quite touching as he started to move inside me. Even without his lips on mine, I could taste him, taste me in his breath on my face. One of his hands grabbed mine, our fingers intertwining while he wrapped his other under my shoulder to hold me where he wanted me. He slid in and out in slow, hard thrusts.
Matteo didn't fuck me; he'd never fucked me.
He made love to me, eyes on mine the entire time. There was no doubt who was inside me. No doubt about who owned me in that moment.
Matteo was all around me, an extension of myself.
The other half of me.
Tears stung my eyes again, and I buried my head in his shoulder to try to hide them.
He cupped my cheek, pulling me so he could see me. His face twisted in pain. "I'm here now," he murmured in what seemed to be a reassuring voice.
But it was just another reminder.
He was here now, but there would come another day when he wasn't. Another day when he broke me and tossed me aside.
I smiled at him and nodded, determined to guard my heart from everything my body seemed incapable of denying.
I loved Matteo, exactly as he was.
But he'd never be mine.
Seeming to sense my growing distance, Matteo reached between us, pressing fingers to my clit to bring me back to the place where I focused on the sensations between us. I moaned, not even trying to resist what he offered me. Tossing my he
ad back, I came on another cry, clenching around him like my life depended on keeping him inside me.
Above me, Matteo groaned, sinking teeth into my shoulder as he flooded me with heat. We lay there for a few moments, neither one of us moving to disconnect. Because who knew what would happen when we did, and reality came crashing down.
Eventually, he had no choice but to pull free of me, and the spill of fluid that followed made me glance down my body in horror. "You didn't wear a condom," I whispered. I couldn't believe I'd been so stupid. I'd just trusted that a man like Matteo would be smart enough to wrap it up.
"No," he said simply, not looking concerned in the slightest as he stood and strode for the bathroom. I laid there, feeling beyond lost until he returned.
Using a wet rag, he cleaned between my legs—his eyes fixated on the action. "What is wrong with you?" I whispered. "Why wouldn't you put on a condom?"
He looked at me, momentarily surprised, as if I was an idiot for expecting he'd wear one. "Nothing between us. Ever," he grunted, tossing the rag to the side of the room. "I'm clean. I know you are." I clenched my eyes shut, hoping he wasn't lying. Being on the pill, I shouldn't have had anything to worry about if he was honestly clean. "Really, Ivory. You're the only one I've ever had without a condom. You're safe. I would never risk you like that." I nodded blankly and stood. "Where are you going?"
"Bathroom," I said, and only partially because I needed a moment to myself. As oddly sweet as it was for him to clean me, I couldn't not use the bathroom after sex.
It was a convenient excuse to go hate myself in private.
Twelve
Matteo
It took Ivory too long to turn her brain off and settle into sleep. I could tell because she was still. I'd only spent one night with the woman, but there was no doubt in my mind that the way she thrashed in her sleep was a common occurrence. Even in sleep, she'd seemed relieved when my body pressed hers into the bed, holding her still. That beautiful face of hers calmed from the stressed, tense state it had been in when I'd entered her room.
Given how peacefully she slept with my weight on her, I was hesitant to leave her, but I needed to get her phone in case there'd been an emergency while we'd had our date, and the sun was already rising over the horizon. I hadn't bothered with the curtains, usually I was up before the sun. I removed myself from Ivory's body, silently hoping that her peaceful sleep would continue even without me. One day, I would understand the cause, but I knew better than to push too hard, too fast.
My Angel was stubborn.