Bound by Hatred (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles #3)(43)

Matteo had frozen above me as he stared down at me in surprise. “Gianna?”

My face turned hot. “Shut up,” I muttered. I loosened my fingers, which had clawed at the bed sheet.

Matteo’s eyes were soft. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I decided to play dumb. Maybe I could convince him this wasn’t what it looked like. “Tell you what?”

A sly grin twisted his lips, and I wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face. Of course he didn’t buy my lie. He wasn’t an idiot. He was a master manipulator and I obviously had a lot to learn before I could trick him.

“That I’m your first,” he said. Did he have to sound so…relieved and proud?

If I hadn’t been worried that getting his cock out of me would hurt as much as getting it inside had, I would have shoved him away. Lying beneath him made a fair argument difficult.

I narrowed my eyes. “I thought we were going to f*ck? I’m tired of talking to you.”

Matteo braced himself on his hands, bringing us closer. I tensed at the twinge the movement caused.

“First I want you to answer my question. Why? You could have spared yourself a lot of pain, if you’d told me,” he said calmly. He looked like this was the easiest thing in the world for him, being buried deep inside me, and having a chat.

When it became clear that he would wait until I gave him what he wanted, I said, “Because I didn’t want you to know.”

His grin got even cockier. “Because you didn’t want to admit that you waited for me.”

“I didn’t wait for you. Now stop talking and f*ck me, damn it.” This was getting too personal, and I hated how vulnerable I was, naked inside and out. How was I supposed to stop feeling if Matteo kept asking me things I didn’t want to think about?

Matteo didn’t take his eyes off me. They were dark and possessive, and seemed to stare right through me. If it hadn’t felt like a defeat, I would have looked away. He pulled out slowly before sliding back in and I tensed from the pain. My body was a horrible traitor. At least, I managed to hold back a gasp this time. Matteo moved slowly and carefully, his muscles flexing with every thrust.

I hated that he was being considerate. I hated that he wasn’t acting like a total *, hated that hating him wasn’t as easy as I’d thought. If he wasn’t an *, then somehow Sid’s death was even more my fault, because my running away was unnecessary and selfish and unfounded.

I gripped his shoulders. “Stop holding back.”

Matteo’s brows drew together but he still didn’t move faster.

I dug my fingers into his skin and jerked my hips despite the soreness between my legs. “Stop holding back!”

This time he listened. His eyes flashed and then he slammed into me harder and faster. I closed my eyes as I held onto his shoulder. I probably left marks with my nails. I didn’t care and Matteo didn’t seem to mind if his quick breathing was any indication.

The pain felt good, gave me something to focus on beyond the crushing guilt. But there wasn’t only pain. Soon the stretched feeling turned into an exquisite pressure, a low hum of pleasure I’d never felt before. Matteo lowered himself, changing the angle in which he pushed into me, hitting an amazing spot deep inside me. Matteo’s mouth found my throat and then he bit down on my skin lightly. A moan slipped out of my lips. My eyes shot open, meeting Matteo’s intense gaze. I couldn’t look away. I wanted to pull him closer and push him away at the same time, wanted to hide and open up to him, wanted and not wanted. “Are you going to come?” Matteo rasped.

I shook my head ‘no’, not trusting my voice. Maybe I could have come. It felt increasingly good, but I needed to bring space between Matteo and me, needed time to get a handle on my emotions before they overwhelmed me. I was confused and tired and sad.

Matteo raised himself on his arms again and sped up even more, slamming into me over and over again, and then he tensed above me, his face twisting with pleasure, and damn he looked magnificent, like something even Michelangelo couldn’t have created better. Matteo’s movements became jerky and then he stilled, eyes closed, a few strands of dark hair stuck to his forehead.

My fingers itched to brush them away, to touch his lips and jaw. Instead I dropped my hands from his shoulders and rested them on the bed beside me where they couldn’t do something stupid, something I’d regret later.

Matteo’s eyes peeled open slowly and I sucked in a quiet breath. Why couldn’t he stop looking at me like that? He didn’t smile, only pierced me with his dark gaze.

I pushed against his chest. “You’re getting heavy. Get off.”

The corners of his mouth twitched, then he slowly pulled out and plopped down on the bed beside me and reached for me as if he was going to embrace me. Panicking, I sat up and slid off the bed. If he hugged me now, if he acted like we were a real couple, one that cared about each other, I’d lose my shit. I headed for the bathroom, not bothering to cover myself. Matteo had seen all of me already, and I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking I was embarrassed to be naked in front of him.

I didn’t hear him coming after me but suddenly Matteo grabbed my hand, stopping me from disappearing into the safety of the bathroom. Our eyes met. His were almost…regretful. “I shouldn’t have gone so hard on you, but you know how to push my f*cking buttons, Gianna. Did I hurt you?”