Page 38 of Ruined By Protection (Feretti Syndicate #5)

Hazel

I watch Matteo move across the room, his silhouette cutting a powerful figure in front of the window. He's worried, I can tell that much, but what's going through his mind remains a mystery.

That's the thing about Matteo—he keeps everything locked away behind those dark eyes. Even now, after everything we've shared, I can only guess at his thoughts.

He makes his way back to the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. His movements are deliberate, controlled, like everything else about him. He stretches out beside me and I find myself holding my breath, waiting.

When he pulls me close, his arm sliding around my waist, something inside me uncoils. His lips brush my forehead, so gentle it makes my heart ache. For a man with such lethal hands his touch can be impossibly tender.

I settle against him, my head finding its place on his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat fills my ear—strong, constant, unwavering. My own pulse seems to slow, matching his beat for beat.

"Better?" he murmurs, his voice a rumble I can feel through his chest.

I nod, unable to find words for this feeling washing over me. It's safety but it's more than that. It's like emerging from a dark tunnel into sunlight, like taking the first deep breath after almost drowning.

His fingers trace lazy patterns on my back and I melt further into him. This sensation—this harmony—I haven't felt anything like it since before Elliott. Maybe not even then.

"Your heart," I whisper, pressing my palm flat against his chest. "It's so strong."

His chest rises with a deep inhalation. "Only around you."

I don't know if that's true but I want to believe it. I want to believe that I affect this unshakeable man the way he affects me.

The warmth of his skin seeps into mine, chasing away the chill that's lived in my bones since I fled Austin. Since before that, really. How long have I been cold? Two years? Longer?

I shift against Matteo, restless with a sudden need that blooms hot and urgent inside me. He lifts my chin to capture my eyes with his, dark and questioning. Something primal takes over and I'm moving before I can second-guess myself.

I swing my leg over his body, straddling him in one smooth maneuver. His hands immediately find my hips, steadying me as I settle my weight on him.

"Hazel," he rasps.

I don't answer with words. Instead I lean down and capture his mouth with mine, kissing him fiercely. My hands frame his face, fingers threading through his hair, holding him to me as though he might disappear. I pour everything into this kiss—all the longing, the lost time.

Matteo groans into my mouth, his hands tightening on my hips. The sound vibrates through me, igniting something desperate and hungry. I break the kiss, breathing hard, my forehead pressed to his.

"I need you," I whisper, my voice raw with emotion. "Now."

His eyes darken, pupils blown wide with desire. "You can have me," he promises, his voice rough.

I kiss him again, more demanding this time.

Matteo rolls us suddenly, pinning me beneath him, his weight a delicious pressure. But I'm not ready to surrender control—not yet. With a strength I didn't know I possessed I push against his chest, flipping us back to our original position.

"Let me," I insist. "I need this."

Understanding flashes in his eyes and he nods, settling back against the pillows with a grin. His hands remain on my hips, but his grip loosens, allowing me to take what I need.

And what I need is him—all of him. I need to reclaim what was stolen from me: choice, pleasure, desire.

I lean down, trailing kisses along Matteo's jaw, down his neck, across the solid planes of his chest. His skin tastes like salt and something uniquely him. His heart thunders beneath my lips and I smile against his skin, savoring the proof that I affect him as deeply as he affects me.

"You're killing me," he groans, his accent thickening with desire.

"Good," I murmur against his skin. "I want you desperate for me."

“When do I ever stop being that?” His laugh turns into another groan as I continue my exploration. Every sound he makes feeds the fire building inside me.

I look at Matteo beneath me, his body a landscape of hard muscle and warm skin.

Something primal and hungry awakens inside me. I want to taste him, all of him.

I slide down his body, pressing kisses along his chest, his stomach, feeling each ridge of his muscle tense beneath my lips. My hair falls around my face as I move lower and Matteo's breathing grows heavier with every inch I descend.

I glance up without lifting my head. The hunger in his gaze makes my skin flush hot. I've never wanted to do this before—with Elliott it was always a demand, never a desire. But with Matteo I'm discovering parts of myself I never knew existed.

I settle between his powerful thighs, my heart picking up speed with every beat of anticipation. I start with light kisses along his inner thigh, teasing him, building both his desire and my courage. His skin is hot to my lips and I can feel him trembling with the effort of restraint.

When I finally run my tongue along his length, Matteo makes a sound that's half groan, half curse. The taste of him is heady as malt whiskey—salt and musk and man. I explore him slowly, learning what makes his breath catch, what makes his pelvis lift slightly off the bed.

I take him all the way into my mouth, watching his reaction through my lashes. His eyes are fixed on me, dark with desire, his jaw clenched tight. The power I feel in this moment is unexpected—I'm bringing this dangerous, controlled man to break from his self-imposed straitjacket.

"Fuck, Hazel," he groans, one hand fisting in the sheet.

I find a rhythm that feels natural, my confidence growing with each response I draw from him. My own desire builds as I watch him come undone under my touch. I never knew I could want this so badly—to give pleasure rather than just endure it.

Matteo's hand moves to my hair, his fingers threading through the strands. He doesn't push or force, just holds on as if anchoring himself. The gentle pressure sends shards of desire rippling down my spine.

"Is this okay?" he asks, his voice strained but still concerned for my comfort.

I pause just long enough to whisper, "Yes," before taking him deeper.

His grip tightens and the sensation pulls a moan from my throat. The vibration makes Matteo curse in Italian, words I don't understand but whose meaning is perfectly clear.

I never knew I could want this—his hand guiding me, the sounds of his pleasure, the way he's coming apart because of me. I moan again, no longer caring how I sound or how desperate I might seem.

Matteo's grip grows firmer, his breathing more ragged. He guides my movements now, setting a pace that makes my heart race and my body ache with need. Far from feeling used, I feel wanted, desired, appreciated.

"Hazel," he groans, his voice huskier than I've ever heard it. "You're perfect. So fucking perfect."

His words wash over me like a physical caress. I hollow my cheeks, taking him deeper, wanting to bring him the same pleasure he's shown me. My name falls from his lips again and again, like a mantra, like a promise.

The sound of my own moans surprises me—I've never made such sounds before, never felt this kind of ravenous hunger. Each noise I make seems to drive Matteo closer to the edge, his grip in my hair tightening, his guidance becoming more insistent.

I look up at him through my lashes, wanting to see his face, needing to watch him come apart. His eyes are fixed on me, dark and ravening, his expression a mixture of bliss and awe. When our gazes connect an electric shaft passes between us, and Matteo groans deep in his chest.

"You're going to kill me," he whispers, his voice raw with need.

I smile around him, humming my approval, and the vibration makes him curse again. His grip tightens in my hair and I moan louder, surprising myself with how much I enjoy this feeling.

Matteo's fingers curl in my hair to gently pull me away. I search his face, confused by the interruption when he was so clearly relishing my gluttony.

"Not like this," he says, hoarse with desire. "I won't come unless I'm inside you."

The voracious hunger in his eyes makes me shiver. He sits up, cupping my face in his hands, and kisses me deeply.

"Turn around," he commands softly. "On your hands and knees."

I hesitate only for a moment before positioning myself as he told me to. The sheets cool under my palms as I wait, every cell sparking with anticipation. He puts a condom on.

I feel the bed dip as Matteo moves behind me. His hands slide up my thighs, leaving trails of fire in their wake. When they reach my hips, his grip tightens, steadying me.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, one hand tracing the curve of my spine. "So perfect."

I feel him position himself and then he's pushing into me slowly, giving me time to adjust to the fullness. I gasp at the stretching sensation, my fingers curling into the sheets.

"You okay?" he asks, pausing halfway.

"Yes," I breathe. "Don't stop."

He pushes all the way in and I moan at the feeling of completeness. He fills me perfectly, like we were made for each other.

Matteo starts to move, setting a rhythm that's neither too gentle nor too rough. Each thrust sends peaks of pleasure through my body, building something inside me that feels like it might consume me whole.

His hands grip my hips, guiding my movements to match his. The position allows him to hit spots inside me that make stars explode behind my eyelids.

"Matteo," I pant, his name the only word I can remember.

He leans over me, his chest pressing against my back, and slides one hand around to where I need him most. His fingers find that sensitive bundle of nerves, circling with just the right pressure.

The dual sensation is overwhelming. I cry out, pushing back against him, taking him deeper.

"That's it," he encourages, his breath hot against my ear. "Take what you need."

His words unleash something in me. I move more urgently against him, greedily chasing the pleasure that's building with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, mixing with our heavy breathing and occasional moans.

Matteo's rhythm becomes more intense, his thrusts deeper. The grip on my hip tightens and I know I'll have marks tomorrow.

"You feel so good," he groans. "So tight around me."

Matteo doesn't slow down. He continues his relentless pace, drawing out my orgasm until I'm trembling and gasping beneath him. Just when I think I can't take anymore he grunts loudly, his rhythm faltering for an instant.

Then with a final thrust he finds his release, his body going rigid against mine. I feel him pulse inside me, filling me with his warmth. He collapses partially on top of me, careful to keep most of his weight on his forearms.

We remain like that, breathing hard, our bodies still connected. I feel boneless, utterly spent, and completely satisfied in a way I've never experienced before.

Matteo presses gentle kisses along my shoulder blade, up my neck, behind my ear. Each touch is tender, a stark contrast to the ferocious intensity of before.

"You're incredible," he breathes hot against my skin.

I can only manage a contented hum in response, too overwhelmed for words. Matteo carefully pulls back, leaving me feeling empty for a moment before he gathers me in his arms and pulls me to his chest.

I curl into him, my head finding that perfect spot under his chin. His heartbeat gradually slows until it matches the gradually calming rhythm of my own.