She was a traitor when it came to Matteo.
Just like my heart.
"Your mouth is mine. You will never let another man put his lips on you again. Understood?" he barked an order, shifting his hips so he dragged over that spot inside me with every thrust.
"Yes, Teo," I repeated on a whimper. My body tightened, my orgasm crashing over me. He never stopped, never even paused, just forced his way through my orgasm with punishing thrust after thrust.
"This ass is mine," he whispered, and one of his hands abandoned my hip in favor of pressing his thumb to the part of me that no one had ever touched. I whimpered, wiggling against his grip on me. "I'll claim it soon, Angel. All of you belongs to me. I was the first man to take your mouth, the first man to take that sweet little pussy, and I'll be the first man to claim your ass too."
He slowed his pace, and I glanced back to watch him stare at the dirty way he touched me, claimed me while he fucked me with his monster of a dick.
"Shit," I moaned, not wanting to reveal that the strange, foreign pressure against me felt good. It was dark, forbidden, something I'd never thought to like.
But I did.
"Do you want to know a little secret?"
"Hmm?" I hummed, exhaustion claiming my calves from the angle and the heels.
"I'll be the last man to take all those things too," he groaned, finding his own climax within me. His hand hit the roof of the car, supporting his weight as he lost his control for that one moment where Matteo ever let go. The one rare moment of vulnerability he only showed when he came. I couldn't see his face, but I felt it all the same.
When he finished, he helped me slide my thong back into place and straighten my dress. Then we went home.
Twenty-One
Ivory
When I'd gotten in the car with Scar, I'd thought we were just going home after letting Sadie work me over at the gym for two hours. She was itching to kick my ass after the scene with Duke, and I couldn't particularly blame her.
I wanted to kick my ass too.
What was wrong with me I couldn't feel chemistry with my admittedly handsome best friend who I knew would do whatever he could to keep me from being hurt?
Ugh.
So, when Scar turned the wrong way and merged onto the highway, I cursed and turned to look at him. He'd tried to convince me to sit in the backseat of the SUV more times than I can count, but I never wanted to feel like I was being chauffeured around. It made me feel like a rich man's mistress, which wasn't far from the truth, but I detested it all the same.
"Where are we going?" I asked him, groaning and flipping my head back into the seat. He didn't answer, just sat there all stony and silent with his eyes on the road. "Did it maybe occur to either of you I don't feel like going to Matteo's? He rarely summons me this early, anyway. What's going on?"
"I think it's best I leave it for him to explain," Scar grunted and the muscles of my body tightened.
"Oh God, is it bad? Did something happen?" More silence. "Whatever," I sighed, trying to calm myself. "He's probably just done with me. Ready to end this bullshit."
Scar snorted out a laugh, and I realized I'd rarely heard the man laugh. Even though I was comfortable with his presence, and I knew he found me amusing, I'd never once made the man laugh.
That was unacceptable.
"I'll miss you; you know. You're always welcome to come over if you need food. I'm good at feeding people, if you couldn't tell. You eat a lot. Who feeds you when you aren't stuck with me?"
He shook his head like I was ridiculous.
Now that he did all the time.
"I'll have plenty of your cooking, Ms. Torres."
Well, that sounded ominous.
I crossed my arms over my chest, watching as the city streets turned to the slightly less urban streets that led to Matteo's estate.
I was a sweaty mess, going to Matteo's where I didn't even have clothes to change into.
The drive passed in stony silence, Scar knowing damn well that I wanted to ask questions, and me knowing he wouldn't answer them. He was a loyal bastard; I'd give him that.
Besides, I had a feeling asking questions about Matteo was a slippery road. I'd taken to the strategy that burying my head in the sand and waiting until he was done with me was the best way to walk away without being completely shattered when it was over. Whatever he did for a living, I didn't want to know.
Nope.
Ostrich I was.
Scar rolled down the window as he pulled up to the gates of the estate, and the guard stepped up to the window. He stood outside, unusual as they normally stayed in their little house until we pulled up.
"Busy day," he muttered to Scar, glancing at me across the car. "Good afternoon, Miss Torres," he smiled politely. It was the same guard who had been working when I'd first naively come traipsing into Matteo's domain. I had since learned his name, after he'd returned from vacation, anyway.
"Hi, Christian," I said with a hesitant smile. He'd been nothing but polite since the first time, abnormally so, but I hadn't been able to shake the reminder I looked like all the other girls Matteo banged.
Euw.
He cleared his throat, turning an oddly amused look Scar's way, and the sullener man only glared back. "Go on in," Christian said, stepping back from the car and hitting the button to let us into the estate. As we drove up the long, winding drive, it became obvious what Christian had meant by a busy day.
Someone was moving.
My heart thudded in my chest, unable to believe that Matteo wouldn't have mentioned he was moving, unless he planned on dumping me or he was in trouble and had to get out of dodge.
But why would he have me brought to the house?
A moving van passed us on the drive, another sitting in front of the house as two men hopped out of the front. We pulled up behind them, and they opened the rear doors to reveal a van packed with boxes.
"Uhh kay. Did Matteo get married or something?" I asked Scar, who smirked at me from the side. He was out of the car the next moment, and I followed him, albeit hesitantly. I did not belong at Matteo's house under the best circumstances, but my dirty running shoes were particularly unsightly against the opulent tile of the foyer. My high-waisted running shorts and sports bra weren't much better. Boxes covered the foyer, and two staff I recognized in passing collected things from the foyer and brought them up the stairs or to the living area and kitchen as we made our way to the hall to go to Matteo's office.
Scar knocked on the door, turning to murmur to me. "I really don't feel like chasing you. Keep that in mind, yeah?" he grinned, shoving the door open at Matteo's command. I froze at the threshold, staring up at Scar.
"Why—why would I—" I broke off when Scar shoved me into the room, and I barely caught myself before I stumbled. The door closed behind me, and I eyed Matteo as he stood from behind his desk. "What's going on?" I asked him, crossing my arms over my chest and preparing to harden myself. Matteo wouldn't know that he hurt me.
Not the second time around.
"Come sit with me," he gestured to the couch against the wall and facing his desk. I eyed it warily, knowing it hadn't been there before. It was white, modern but a light contrast to all the masculine grays and browns of his office. A little coffee table and ottoman hybrid sat in front of the couch, looking like a perfectly cozy space to curl up and work if I ever saw one. I went as he took my hand and guided me to the couch, plopping down next to him. I didn't even care that I might dirty up the fabric, since I'd likely never see it again.
"The issue with Adrian is proving to be more difficult to solve than I originally foresaw. Given your stunt last night," he broke off, eyeing me in frustration, "I no longer believe it's safe for you to remain in your home for the time being."
"I knew—," I paused, feeling everything in my body tighten as his words sunk in. "What?"
"Adrian remains as fixated as ever, and you're determined to put yourself in dangerous situations by sneaking out past your
security. I need you to remain where I can keep a closer eye on you." I tugged my hand free from his grasp.
"What the fuck does that mean?" I whispered.
"Angel," he whispered, and I stood from the couch. Darting to the door, I raced for the foyer and threw open one of the boxes. The staff stared at me, and I vaguely knew of them snickering when my jaw dropped, and horror settled over me.
My stand mixer sat there, gleaming like sea glass in the light streaming down through the massive skylight.
Backing away a step, I stared at it, blinking while I wrapped my head around what was happening. With a shake of my head, I made for the front door.
This was insane.
He was insane.
Scar stepped in front of the door, crossing his arms over his chest and looking formidable as he blocked my path. "Move," I ordered, walking into him and trying to shove him aside.
"Can't do that, Ms. Torres," he grunted. "Told you, I don't much feel like chasing you."
"Angel," Matteo said somewhere behind me, and the sound of his footsteps against the tile made my body jerk with every step closer he came.
"You can't do this," I whispered, feeling like I might break.
"I'll do what I have to do to keep you safe," he murmured back, a hand reaching out and brushing my hair away from my shoulder.
I whirled on him, shoving at his chest to the sound of gasps around me. "You do not get to move me out of my home! What is wrong with you?!"
"You should have thought of that before you went out alone last night."
I shoved him again, hating the fact that his body barely budged. "I'm going home. I expect my things will be returned today."
"You really think Scar is all that stands between you and freedom? You have no car. The only exit from the property is guarded, and there is a guard on each door of the house itself. You no longer go anywhere without my permission, Cara mia." His voice dropped low, dancing over my skin like a caress.
"You can't do this!" I yelled, tears welling in my eyes. I'd expected Matteo to break my heart, but I never would have thought he'd do it like this.
Never like this.
"Ah, my love, I believe it is already done." Matteo turned and strode for his office, leaving me floundering in the middle of the foyer with an audience.
"Ms. Torres?" Donatello asked, stepping up to me and putting a hand on my shoulder. "Do you have any specific requests for where you want things in the kitchen? I'll see to that personally. Normally the kitchen is my domain, but I very much look forward to having company."
I shook my head, feeling the first tear fall as he patted me on the head and stepped away. I turned, eyes connecting with Scar's where he stood at the door.
"You knew," I whispered, betrayal making my heart clench. I meant it when I said I'd miss the sullen man who had come to mean something to me.
And he'd brought me to a prison.
His face contorted briefly, as though the sight of my tears bothered him.
But it didn't.
None of them gave the first shit about me.
"He'll keep you safe," he whispered, and each word was like a blow to my gut.
"Ivory," a vaguely familiar voice whispered next to me, and I turned my head to look up into Lino's familiar brown eyes.
"Lino?" I asked stupidly, wincing when he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
"Come on, sweetheart. Let's sit you down."
He guided me to the living room, settling me on the couch next to him. Donatello delivered a glass of wine a moment later, giving me a sad smile and eying me warily.
"How are you?" I asked Lino after chugging the contents of my glass. Donatello took it, refilling it in front of me and handing it back.
"Better than you at the moment, I expect." The sheepish smile he turned my way was a welcome sight, and I even returned it.
"Samara?"
He winced. "Going through a rough divorce."
I nodded. It had been years since I'd seen her, but the man she'd gotten herself hitched to had never been a good man. "I'm surprised it took so long."
"You know her, she's stubborn." I nodded. "Like you," he added.
I glared at him. "I just want to go home."
"You are home," he said, tucking me into his chest when fresh tears welled in my eyes.
✽✽✽
Lino had long since gone back to Matteo's office, doing whatever it was the two of them called work where Matteo's employees were completely content to watch me cry over being trapped in his house. Staff moved around me, unpacking my things without regard for what I might want. They didn't even ask me where I wanted everything to go—the only person who had bothered with that being Donatello.
I suspected they knew I'd say to keep everything in boxes.
Locking myself in the bathroom, I thought over my options.
I only had two.
Let it happen.
Or call Adam.
The phone in my hand rang when I pressed his name on the screen, and I had to wonder if I knew what I was doing.
I just wanted to go home, but alerting Adam might be like declaring war. He was unpredictable and there was absolutely no way to know how he might react to me being a prisoner in Matteo's home.
"Hey pretty girl," he answered, affection always in his tone. When I was silent, I could feel the way he radiated tension through the phone. "Ivory?"
"I need your help," I whispered, sobbing over the line.
Twenty-Two
Matteo
Ivory knew the moment her uncle arrived, if the wide eyes she threw my way when I stormed out of my office were any sign.
"You think you're clever, don't you?"
She didn't respond, staring at me silently as she stood from the couch and making her way to the door. I blocked her, stepping into her path and catching her up in my arms. "He will not take you from me. Do you understand?"
"You already lost me, so what does it matter," she hissed, the wildcat in my stubborn little angel rising to the surface after her temporary shock.
I looked forward to her wrath when I took her to bed later.
But in that moment, I needed to remind her who called the shots. I stepped back from her, going for the door. Her sneakers squeaked against the floor behind me, a reminder she hadn't changed after her arrival although all her clothes were being unpacked systematically. "She doesn't step foot outside," I ordered Scar, passing through the space he allowed before he closed it to block Ivory in.
"Yes, boss," he grunted, absorbing Ivory's slap to his chest.
"Let me out! Matteo!" she yelled, and I closed the door behind me to drown out the sound.
I didn't need her uncle thinking she was being tortured.
"Bellandi," Adam greeted, crossing his arms over his chest and attempting to stare me down. He knew I wasn't so easily intimidated, but he still had to try. "I'm taking Ivory with me."
I knew there was a gun in his holster, the man went nowhere unarmed. But I didn't even consider needing to proceed with caution. He was too smart to pull a gun on me in my turf.
If he did, he'd be dead. Shot down by any of the guards undoubtedly on edge after I gave the order to let him in the gate.
"Ivory is with me now."
"I know your reputation. I know what you do. Ivory isn't the woman you involve in that kind of shit, Bellandi. You know that and I do."
"She's mine. Always has been," I grunted.
He sighed, nodding. "I know, but you threw her away. Now she wants to leave, and you have to let her."
I pulled the tiny box from my pocket, fingering the velvet and holding it up so he could make no mistake about what it contained. He eyed it warily, a deep sigh rattling in his chest. He hung his head, knowing what it meant for a man like me.
Men like us didn't let go of what was ours.
Not when it came to wives.
"Fuck," he whispered, and the way he warred with himself almost made me feel bad for the poor guy.
"If
you hurt her or let anything happen to her, I'll make her disappear, and even you will never find her. Got me?" Adam asked, glaring at me.
I nodded. I could live with those terms; after all, it was much easier than I'd anticipated it would be to convince him.
"She loves you," he sighed. "Always has. She's scared, but I have to believe she'll find a way around that.”
"I'll make sure she does," I said, reassuring him. I'd always envied the relationship Ivory had with her family. The way they loved each other and wanted what was best was admirable.
"Can I see her?" he asked. I nodded, stepping back to the door and watching as Scar opened it.
Ivory raced out, flinging herself into her uncle's arms. "Thank you!" she said, breaking my heart when she took solace in him. Solace from me.
"You call me if he hurts you, yeah?" Adam grunted; voice thick with emotion. Ivory backed up, staring up at him in confusion.
"Wh—what?" she stuttered.
"This is the safest place for you, honey. Adrian Ricci is no joke. You do what Matteo tells you," Adam grunted, wincing when she tugged fully from his grasp. "Love you," he murmured, turning and going for the driver's side of his car.
"Adam!" she yelled as he climbed in. "Adam!" she screamed when he started the car and inched down the driveway.
I stepped up behind her, wrapping arms around her waist and containing her when she lunged for the car with horror in her eyes.
My angel broke, crying while I held her in my arms and wished there'd been another way. That she'd let me ease her into it.
But it didn't matter.
We'd always end up with her living with me.
I couldn't regret it being sooner than I planned.
Twenty-Three
Ivory
Waking up trapped underneath Matteo's weight had become far too comfortable. Normally he woke up before me and stayed with me until I woke up. It was an unspoken thing between us, that he insisted on doing it so I could get my first quality rest in years. I didn't want to talk about it—didn't want to acknowledge the fact that Matteo was far too astute not to suspect there was a reason for my restless sleep.
Bloodied Hands: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 1) Page 15
