King of Stars (The Next Generation #2)

27. Matteo

Chapter 27

Matteo

E vening had spread across Tuscany, and the light looked pink, which seemed to wrap itself around Stella and halo her. She stood by the open window in a silver silk robe. I knew come nightfall she was going to shine even brighter than the stars for me.

She was humming “Corcovado” (Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars). When I’d first played it for her, she called it lovely and asked me to play it again. I’d grinned at the way she’d called the song lovely. It made my heart swell that she seemed to enjoy our romantic ways, and some of them were rubbing off on her.

In time, I’d hope she’d come to expect that of me. To be a man who could romance her and sweep her off her feet, even when we were in our nineties. Nonno always said there was no excuse for a man to ever stop being romantic with his wife. It was his right to spoil her with it, and it was her right to be spoiled by it.

My grin widened when Stella started to move her hips to the music while she gazed out the window. Her window. It was almost unbelievable how this one person, out of all the people in the world, could bring so much joy to my heart just by me looking at her.

She sighed, long and soft, while her hips drifted to the soft beat of the music.

She sighed a lot, and it did my soul good to hear it. Especially after I’d surprised her with the castello . I knew she’d fallen in love with it, even though it was hard for her to imagine me just buying it for her. A grin came to my face that I couldn’t control when I remembered how she’d reacted when I told her I worked for a living.

She’d been touching every counter in the kitchen, almost reverently. She was in awe that it was all hers. It was one of the only rooms I didn’t give my input on. It was hers to do what she wanted with it. The entire house was, but she asked about the rest.

“ You work? ” she’d asked, her face scrunched up, like she’d never even considered it.

I basked in the fact that we were still getting to know each other, but in some ways, it was as if we had been together forever. “ Yeah, I own an investment company with Mariano and Marciano. Marciano is a silent partner. We’re good at dealing with other people’s money. We make them a lot. And it was a way to bring the Fausti family into this age—as far as the dues they pay. ”

“ Your family has to pay to be…in the family? ” She’d really looked at me then.

“ However much the individual branches make, the main family gets a cut of. Since my grandfather leads, a cut goes to him. The rest goes into keeping up certain aspects. ”

She’d lifted a hand. “ Is this business of yours successful? Outside of the family, I mean. And I thought Mariano was a world-renowned soccer, or football, player? ”

“ He was. He played pro—for Italy, of course. He got hurt and then decided to join me at the firm. He’s also an Italian cowboy—or a buttero. ”

“ And an Italian Casanova. ”

I hadn’t answered, but it was true. My brother was world-renowned for playing the field with women too. I answered her question about my business, though.

“ My firm is exceptionally successful, even outside of my family dealings. ”

“ Let me guess. You make millions. ”

I’d smiled and lifted my hand, signaling for her to go up with that assessment. She’d only rolled her eyes and laughed, saying, “ I should have known! ”

Being good with money was a family trait we all seemed to inherit from our old man. He could take a buck and turn it into a million, and basically, he had. He’d made himself into the man he wanted to be without family help, and still, he had a hard time accepting anything from the Fausti family. He and my grandfather butted heads about this quite a bit.

I’d never had such qualms about it. I was born into this family, their blood ran through me, and even though I liked doing things my way, I’d never pushed against it like Brando Piero Fausti had.

After the kitchen, we’d explored the rest of the castello , our vision for the place coming to life as we made notes about each inch of it. I fucking loved how excited she was. How infectious she was, like laughter. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so alive. I couldn’t fucking wait to put on a tool belt and do all the heavy lifting for her. Hanging pictures on walls or whatever she needed me to do.

We’d hire outside help, but for the most part, I’d be the one doing specific projects with her. I felt an urgency to make my mark on all the rooms she’d mark with her own style. I needed to entwine myself in her life to the point where nothing, or no one, could ever untangle us. I’d end where she began, and she’d end where I began. Our souls would twist together like an eternal circle.

The place even had enough room for the number of men that would be around us daily and nightly too. A must. Just like with my parents’ place, the other villas would be used for housing the soldiers. And since the place came fully furnished, and Stella was in love with most of it, we didn’t have much to pick out there.

Even the four-poster bed in our bedroom fit the romantic and timeless vision she had for these old walls. I just wondered where she’d see herself after she explored more of the world, but she told me this place felt safe, and her heart would always hold a place for it.

I’d heard that before, from my mamma.

This place, though, seemed meant to be. The name of it, after Saverio told us, made us both pause.

Castello Astro.

It was named for its view of the stars after the sun gave over to night.

A contended sigh came from her perfect lips again, even though I knew she was going through a lot. She refused to talk about her mamma, or everything she’d been through with the Nemours and the Russians. Occasionally, she’d say something, but then she’d shut down right after. She said it was because she was building strength to let it all go.

“It seems to take more strength to let it go than to keep it locked up,” she’d said. “Because what happens if it comes back to haunt me after I release it?”

“I fucking won’t let it,” I’d said. “I’m bigger and scarier than anything in this world when it comes to you.”

And I would be.

Especially with the feeling I’d gotten after the moth fluttered down—something was off, but fuck if I would allow the unknown to consume these moments with her. Even though mamma couldn’t tell me what was…off…my sister told me she had a feeling it was all going to work out, even if we’d have our struggles. But like she’d pointed out, what couple doesn’t?

A cool breeze swept up from outside, and with the warm air from the day lingering in our room, it made the temperature tepid. It also picked up her perfume and circulated it around me. I closed my eyes, breathed her in, and ran a hand through my hair.

My heart had a mind of its own, and it controlled my feet, which took me to her. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her against me. I tucked my nose in her neck and breathed her in again.

“You smell so good.” I breathed out, feeling a rush of heat—anger—that I had to. It felt like letting her go, and I wouldn’t lose a breath of her.

She smiled. “This is such a special place, Teo. I could live and die here.”

I turned her around so fast, she gasped. “You could live here. That’s it.”

Her eyes widened at whatever she saw in mine, but then they softened, like she caught on. “Death scares you,” she whispered.

“Not mine.” I took her wrists in my hands, feeling her pulse beat against me.

“You really love me,” she whispered again.

“More than my own life.” I lifted her wrists and placed a kiss on each one. “I can’t live without you.”

Our eyes locked, and that thing my mamma and papà both claimed moved between them, was moving between us too. I never questioned papa’s truth, but there were times I never thought it would exist for me. I’d tried it out a few times. Looking at a woman in this same way, waiting for something to move…me. A feeling that would bring me to my knees. It never did. Not until this woman.

That same power brought me to my knees when I had my sister translate the words I couldn’t seem to say in English. My heart was speaking a certain language. Stella understood the undertone, even if Mia had to help with the specifics. As years passed, I knew Stella would learn my language, just like I’d learn hers.

Whatever moved between us was so powerful, I felt like if we both reached out, we could touch it. It was almost like gazing at the stars. It seemed like I could reach up and grab one, even if it was an illusion, but somewhere those stars burned. They were as real as the floor beneath our feet.

Most people believe love can only be felt on a cellular level, but I knew if I wanted to feel it, on a flesh level, all I had to do was reach out and touch the woman standing before me.

She wiggled out of my hold with one hand, tracing the star tattoo on my chest. “You’re so beautiful, Matteo. The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” She lifted up on her toes, wrapped her arms around my neck, and set her lips against mine.

A noise I had no control over vibrated in my throat at the pleasure of it. She was waiting for me to make the next move, but having her arms around my neck, her body pressed against mine, her lips flush against mine...it did things to me I could never recover from.

Our lips started to move, so in sync, I wondered how my lips ever worked being apart from hers. Her lips were soft. Her mouth tasted sweet. And my hands, they started to roam over her body, feeling how chilled her skin was in some areas and warm in others. She had curves that were dangerous. A dancer’s body.

Her face.

Fucking heartbreaking.

Her eyes were guileless, though so cat like. The color was such a frosty blue, especially in the waning light, that they became almost silver. Spellbinding. Her hair was slicked back, and it showcased her perfect bone structure. She had hard lines, but she was soft too—so fucking soft, I had a hard time controlling the impulse to sink my fingers into her pillowy flesh.

We kissed from the window to the bed, where I set her down, and while her eyes were hard on mine, undid the tie of the robe. I’d done it myself, wrapped her up, and seeing her naked was a phenomenon I’d never get used to. Every inch of her skin was a gift to mine. So was how she wanted me. Like she was as starved for me as I was for her.

Her breathing was too fast. Her breasts rose and fell with each frantic heartbeat.

Her breasts…they overflowed in my hands. So fucking perfect. Her nipples were hard, and I could smell the scent of her sweet want in the air, just like her perfume. Her thighs were soaked with it.

I slipped a hand on each side of her breasts. It seemed like I could break her ribs with one squeeze. She wasn’t extremely delicate, but compared to me, we were lion and lamb. Using my thumbs, I caressed her nipples, and she closed her eyes, arching into my touch.

She whimpered. “Teo.”

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

“More of this. More of you. Forever. It feels so, so, so good.” She moaned deep inside of her throat, moving against the bed for friction.

I moved my hands down, slowly, softly, and she trembled at my touch.

“Even that,” she breathed out. “It feels like you’re touching me between the legs. That’s how sensitive I am to you. When you touch me…” She sighed.

I gripped her hips in my hands, my touch harder, and she made a breathless noise.

“You like that?”

“Yes. It feels like…you’re claiming me. I’m yours. Down to the bone.”

Too fucking late for that. I’d claimed her the moment my eyes found her in that underground club.

My hands ventured even further down, and it took all my restraint not to drop to my knees and lick her thighs clean. Instead, I trailed my fingertips close to what belonged to me only, getting closer and closer to slipping my hand between and burying my finger in her warmth. Watching her ride it out, coming apart for me until I cleaned her up with my tongue, making her come apart again against my mouth, drinking her in.

She pushed herself against my fingers, whimpering, wanting more. When I slid my hand between her legs, she went off, rubbing herself against me, panting and moaning.

“Fuck.” I loved it when she went wild for my touch. My cock was so hard, it was about to rip through my sweatpants. I tugged them down with one hand, kicked them off, and stroked my cock while I watched her gyrate against my other hand, her tette bouncing to the rhythm.

Her eyes, more cat-like when they were cracked open, watched me stroke myself. She was getting louder, wilder, wetter. She licked her lips, and I picked up the pace, groaning at how fucking good this felt. I’d never felt this wild either. Like we might start clawing at each other just to get to our hearts and offer them up.

“ Mmmmm! ” Her entire body stiffened, then it started to move faster, jerking, and then finally letting go with a moan that echoed inside of her chest.

It didn’t take her long to recover. Her eyes were still lowered, her cheeks flushed, her skin sweaty, and she grabbed for me, wanting me in the bed. I took her with me, and we started kissing, our tongues buried deep, swirling like two storms, rolling around the bed like it was a boat at stormy seas.

She took my face in her hands. “If this is all there ever was—I could survive on this. Only this .” She caressed over my forehead, down my cheeks, back up over my eyes and nose, down to my throat, to my heart, her palm placed over it for a second, then down to my cock. She took it in her hand and started to stroke it, just like I’d been doing. I made a wild noise, and so did she.

I kissed her face, her lips, and licked my way down to her breasts . “Fuck.” I breathed cool air against her nipple. “Perfect. So perfect. Beautiful.” She jerked against me when my mouth closed over the stiff peak while my fingers started to tease the other one.

She tried to open her legs, get me between them, but she couldn’t move me. I was going to send her back to the stars, where she belonged, for me to watch her burn in a cold fire that could only touch me. My hand still teased her nipple, while my mouth moved down, down, down, leaving kiss marks all the way past her stomach. When I was situated between her thighs, my face close to all her secrets, I used my tongue to flick her most sensitive spot.

She reached over her head and grabbed a pillow, fisting it, pushing herself against my mouth. I could feel her sweet desire on my chin, all over my cheeks, and I started eating like a poor man who suddenly found himself at a queen’s table.

The noises she made were feral, and I couldn’t even put into words what they sounded like, but in our own language, she told me she was being satisfied. Her control was mine; she’d lost it to me. And I was using my tongue, my finger, to work her beautiful body higher and higher. I could feel the temperature of her skin, that cold fire infusing every inch of her flesh.

She said something garbled and then came with a cry that was so satisfying to my cock, I had to be inside of her or I might die. I entered her in a stroke so hard, she cried out, “More. Please. More. ”

Every stroke was a test of my stamina. She was so fucking wet. So warm. And the deeper I pushed into her, the more she opened to me, but the resistance felt so fucking good, I was lost. So fucking lost inside of her. Her doctor had given her birth control pills, and she was the first woman I’d felt the inside of without protection.

She was milking me, bringing all the blood to the head of my cock. I’d never felt so swollen before, my tip so fucking sensitive. It was after the high, the pleasure only this woman could give me. I was out to make a home for myself inside of her—so deep inside of her, no one could ever reside there but me.

“My Stella,” I groaned.

“So good,” she breathed out. “So, so, good. Don’t stop. Please.” I could feel her thighs trembling against me.

When we started to kiss, we both let go, jerking against each other, making noises that our bodies couldn’t hold back. I watched as she took control of her breathing. She was coated in sweat, flushed, her cool, sweet breath washing over my overheated skin.

Her eyes opened, and there she was.

My star. Burning in the vast dark sky just for me.

I ran a tender hand down her face. “ Ti amo , Stella.”

Her eyes searched mine, then filled with tears. “I love you, too, Matteo,” she whispered. “So much. I didn’t know a heart could hold this much love.”

I kissed her tears, and then vowed to dry them, as my mouth claimed hers again.

Even if I just closed my eyes, resting them, it felt like sleep for me. A way for my entire being to recharge to face the days and nights being a Fausti could bring. With Stella sleeping next to me, my eyes were closed, but I was far from resting. Morning wasn’t too far off, two hours, and there was nothing restful about what I was doing.

I ached to be inside of her again.

She’d just fallen asleep not long ago, the entire night ours to do what we wanted inside of it, in our own space, in our own home. And she needed to sleep. She needed rest. It had been a long day. From learning how to drive, to becoming a homeowner, to a rush of people trying to help with the new furnishings that we needed, like mattresses, to filling our cabinets, to the men on guard outside.

One day, I was going to rule this entire famiglia . And this would be our life. Me, ready to rule at a moment’s notice. Her, doing whatever she wanted, as far as a career that would bring her happiness, and creating a family for us. She’d told me she wanted that. A family with me.

The greatest honor of my life.

Then the soldiers that would always set their boots down on our property. Being near her during the times that I couldn’t be.

That thought was keeping me up too.

That I wouldn’t always be the man around to protect her. That I had to trust someone else enough to keep her safe. Saverio would be next to me, and even though he put things in place to be more proactive with her safety, like the watch and the monitor in her engagement ring, there was always room for error. Armando was as good as his old man, but still, mamma found herself in the hands of our enemies.

I’d always been the most serious son of Brando and Scarlett Fausti. I was the oldest son, which meant I bore the brunt of most of the responsibilities. I was born to lead this family. But if something ever happened to the woman next to me—I had to cut that thought off at the root. The heart. Carve it out and offer it up. Because if I thought about it, the heart inside of my chest would deflate and turn into…ash.

Fuck me.

I’d never understood Brando Fausti more than I did in this moment.

Being with Stella was turning me into a man even harder than the one I’d been before. It felt like she was walking around on dangerous ground with my heart in her hands. She’d give her life to save it (I knew she would, without a doubt), but I refused to let her. And that fire inside of me, for her only, was turning my resolve into igneous rock because my blood could run cold too.

What was the oddest thing about this all? If my heart had turned to ash before, it wouldn’t have mattered to me. I’d have given my life for a life that fulfilled me. But it felt like we’d exchanged hearts before we were born and didn’t know it until we spotted each other. Losing her would kill me without a wound on my skin or a disease in my body.

I sat up, put my feet on the cool wooden floor, and ran a hand down my face, then through my hair.

My feet could touch the floor from this mammoth-sized bed, but Stella’s couldn’t. We’d laughed about it earlier. Hers just dangled. A grin came to my face, and I turned to see her again. She was underneath the covers, almost hidden by them. The vintage-looking fan that mamma had sent over, the one Stella had found in the closet, was whirling. It made the small hairs around her face wave, and sometimes, in her sleep, she’d reach up and tame them. They were probably tickling her skin.

My grin turned into a smile. This small being brought me so much pleasure, I couldn’t contain it. I went to reach out and set my hand on her hip, but I didn’t want to disturb her. I wrestled with the idea of going for a run, then going over the plans for one of the buildings, which we’d decided to turn into a workout room. Just like the one my old man had. Papà and his brothers, plus their men, were always using his. It would be fucking nice to have my own space, one where my brothers and I, and our men, could get together and do our thing.

I couldn’t leave her, though, and I’d never had a problem leaving anything or anyone for a run, or a swim, or a sparring match. Hard exercise always tamed the heat in my veins some.

Stella was doing that, while simultaneously stoking it.

A quiet cry made my neck feel like a cold ghost had touched it, then all the hairs on my arms stood up. I turned a little, and if I wouldn’t have heard it, I would have thought I was fucking imagining it. Stella looked peaceful, but when she turned some, stuffing her face into the pillow and making the same chilling noise, I knew it was for real. My heart couldn’t bear to hear it again. I scooped her up and held her body as close to mine as possible. My skin felt like a furnace compared to hers, which felt so cool to the touch.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she just gazed at me.

It was a look empty of life, and my heart started to beat overtime. It felt like there wasn’t a breath in my chest to take. I forced the feeling to the back and shook her.

“Ha-a-a-ah?” Her voice was laced with warm sleep, but that cold look was still in her eyes. “Wh-y- wh-y- why a-a-areee y-y-you sh-sh-shaking meeeee?”

I stopped. “Tell me,” I said.

“Tell you….” She rubbed her eyes, and the frozen look seemed to start defrosting. “Tell you what?”

“You were crying in your sleep.”

She didn’t say anything, and instead of holding my gaze, she looked toward the bathroom. “I have to pee really bad,” she whispered.

She went to crawl out of my arms, but I picked her up, carrying her there. After I set her down on the toilet to do her business, I waited right outside of the door, refusing to give her more privacy than that. When she came out, I could tell her mood had changed from when she’d first fallen asleep.

She touched my arm. “You’re trembling,” she whispered.

“The look in your eyes, I didn’t like it. I don’t fucking like the cold I’m feeling.”

She tried to wrap her hand around my arm, but she only got halfway. She squeezed. “A bad dream, Matteo,” she whispered. “I never slept hard enough to get them when that woman had me. I was living a nightmare instead of dreaming about it.”

“And now that you’re sleeping, you’re reliving the nightmare.”

“Something like that.” Her voice was so soft, her breath caressed my skin and made goosebumps rise. “I’m not in the room she locked me in. I’m on an island. All alone. But it’s cold. So cold. And…I keep crying for you, but I can’t find you.”

I picked her up and held her close. “I’ll always find you,” I vowed. “Just like I did before.”

“I know.” She touched the side of my face, and her stomach made an angry noise.

“You’re hungry.” I didn’t wait for her to agree. I started for the kitchen. I could feel her eyes on me as I walked. Occasionally, she’d run her hand down my face, just to feel me, it seemed. If I could tattoo the feel of her, I fucking would. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before. Soft. Cool. Tender. Made for me.

Setting her down on the counter, I looked through the cabinets and then went to the fridge. Mamma had sent over a few things with a promise to visit the next day. I took out eggs, flour, butter, and a few other things to make pancakes and scrambled eggs. Stella watched me with what seemed like awe in her eyes. It was the same look she got when she’d laid eyes on this place.

“Tell me,” I said.

“Oh.” She smiled, but I could tell it hurt her. She was still trying to shake the cold from the dream. “I didn’t realize you could cook.”

I shrugged, flipping the pancake in the air. She clapped when it landed flat in the pan. “Mamma is a good cook, and sometimes, I’d want to give her a break. I’d wake up earlier than her and destroy her kitchen.”

“That’s really sweet, Matteo,” she whispered. “Does your dad cook?”

“We cooked together.”

“That’s even better.” She smiled, and this time, it seemed more genuine.

The kitchen grew quiet, except for the sizzles from the pans, and the smells of breakfast started to permeate the air. She hopped down from the counter and started coffee, just like mamma had taught her.

“Can you believe this place is all ours?” she said.

I turned my face for a second, and then we looked around once more. Our eyes came back to each other, and we both smiled.

“We’ll make so many wonderful memories here, I just know it. It feels so much like home already, right?”

“ Sì ,” I said, mixing the eggs. “Wherever you are, that’s home to me—always.” I repeated the words in Italian. I felt it was important to start teaching her the language, since she’d be around Italians more, and I wanted her to know me. Who I was.

We were quiet as I placed the pancakes on one stone platter and the eggs on another. She had grown quiet, and just as I was about to turn around and check on her, she whispered my name.

I turned. “Yeah?”

“I need a good memory to be made right now. I really, really, really need it.”

Her bottom lip trembled, and so did she, like she was cold. I could tell she was frozen, but in a way that told me she was trying to keep at bay the fear and uncertainty the dream had inflicted on her, as if she thought she’d be transported back if she moved. I wanted to bring her into my arms, my strength killing her fears. But I knew that would only make it worse, somehow. She wasn’t ready to face her time in that fucking hell, and I wasn’t going to push her closer to the fire if she wasn’t. She was working toward it, even if she was going slow.

“All right, baby,” I whispered. “Give me a second.”

She didn’t even nod, just stood there, frozen. Figaro’s diamond collar glittered in the darkness as he made circles around Stella’s legs, purring. Just for that, I’d love that fucking cat forever.

The old castle had a record player. Stella had been excited about it, and I’d taken it into our bedroom earlier so she could play the old records we’d found. When Mia had stopped by to see the inside of the place, she left and came back with a stack of old records my parents had at their place.

I hauled ass upstairs and grabbed the player, plugging it in when I returned to the kitchen. I looked through the records and found one I liked, and soon, the kitchen filled with static, then the song.

Slowly, gently, I took her hand in mine and turned her to face me. It was a more upbeat song. Not something that would make her even sadder. “My Girl” by the Temptations. Her eyes lifted to mine when I started to sing and move her around the kitchen. She didn’t know my steps at first, but she was quick to learn.

A few seconds later, she laughed, and a big smile came to her face. Mine matched hers.

She laughed. “Did your mom teach you how to dance like this?”

“Yeah. She taught us all how to dance. Even Saverio.” I grinned, thinking about how Nonno made it a requirement that all the soldiers learn how to dance, to humble them romantically. “I’m mostly going along with the beat of the song, but there’s some rumba thrown in.”

“I love this! I love your voice even more! Sing to me again.”

I did, and she fucking loved it. I’d sing to her every day, all day long, if it made her happy.

Her smile was so wide, I wasn’t sure if she could stop. My old man was known to say that if mamma caught laugh lines, he’d done something right in his life. Mamma had them. I’d be sure Stella had them too. No matter what it took to put them there.

“Will you dance with me like this at our wedding?” she asked as the song was coming to an end.

“ Sì ,” I said, turning her out and bringing her back close to my body. “I’ll dance with you like this for the rest of our lives.”

“Promise?” she whispered. Her eyes were vulnerable enough to make my heart ache.

“You have my word,” I breathed out, kissing her pulse. “ La mia parola è buona come il mio sangue .”

“Your word is as good as your blood,” she translated. “Is that why…I mean, I could have never imagined a love like this. I don’t ever want this to end. My heart…” She refused to finish, and I understood why. It was the same feeling I had. The only fear that I’d ever known.

Life without her.

“What’s between this space.” I touched her heart, then mine. “It won’t ever end.”

“How can you be so sure?” she whispered.

“ Na muri scrivutu ne stiddi ,” I said with all the conviction in the world.

“A love that is written in the stars,” she translated.

“A love that is written in the stars,” I said. “Ours. It has burned in the sky as long as the stars have, and it’ll burn even longer than they will. Per sempre .”