Stolen Queen (Dynasty of Deception #4)

17. Ava

17

AVA

I wake up in a room that's not my own, surrounded by an unfamiliar scent. The sheets are soft underneath me, the pillows plush. It takes me a moment to remember where I am, and then it hits me. I'm in Matteo's bed.

My feelings are mixed. Embarrassment, although I don’t know why. Warmth, like I’m in a protected cocoon. Uncertainty. What does all this mean?

I sit up, looking around for him. He's nowhere to be seen, his side of the bed cool to the touch, as if he’s been up for some time.

The sound of running water draws my attention toward the bathroom door. He’s in the shower. I bite my lip as I imagine him naked with hot water sluicing down his body. Unable to contain my curiosity, I slip from bed, noting that I’m fully dressed.

The door is ajar. I wonder if that’s his way of making sure I don’t try to run off. I peek in to see him standing under the warm spray, his face turned upward as he washes shampoo from his hair.

My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him, all raw, masculine beauty. He's tall and lean, muscles etched sharply beneath his skin. My gaze draws downward over strong, taut abs and lower. I’ve never seen a penis in real life. The memory of how he’d put my hand over his last night, feeling how wide and long and hard it was flashes in my mind. It doesn’t look like that now. I might be innocent and sheltered, but I know how dicks work. I understand why it was hard last night and not now.

I continue to take him in. Without his usual smirk, he looks different, softer, more relaxed. The hard lines of his face smooth out, making him look younger. Not that he’s old. Compared to the old man my father wants to marry me off to, Matteo’s age, nine or ten years older than me, doesn’t seem like an issue at all.

Water cascades down his muscular form, and I trace the paths of the droplets with my eyes. There's something almost mesmerizing about the sight. I've never seen a man like this before. He’s beautiful in a raw, rugged way. His tattoo is an intricate design that I can’t make out from this distance. Even so, his body is like sculpted art.

My thoughts stray back to how it felt when he was touching me last night, guiding my hand to show him what I dreamed about. I should be ashamed of these thoughts. He kidnapped me, after all. But the truth is, I've never felt safer than I do right now, in his home. With him.

My body aches for his touch again. I want to feel his hands on me, his lips against mine. I want to explore every inch of him, to learn what makes him gasp and moan the way I did last night. The thought of him touching me, me touching him, sends a warm gush of sensation straight between my thighs.

A noise escapes my lips before I can stop myself. Matteo’s head jerks toward me, surprise etched on his face as he sees me peeking in on him. Our eyes lock for what feels like an eternity. I finally back away, but not before noticing that his dick is growing hard.

I rush back to the bed, my heart pounding as I hear the water shut off. Sliding under the covers, I try to look casual, as if I hadn't just been caught ogling Matteo in the shower.

He emerges from the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips. Droplets of water cling to his skin, tracing paths down his chiseled chest and abs. I follow their journey with my eyes, mesmerized, my body tingling with desire.

As he moves closer, the towel seems precarious, and part of me desperately wants it to fall so I can see him in all his naked glory again.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod, feeling like a dumb schoolgirl that I seem to have lost my voice. It annoys me, so I pull myself together, flinging the covers off and rising from the bed.

He arches a brow as he watches me. I wonder if he thinks I’m going to flee. Surely, he knows I had a chance to do that when he was in the shower.

Being daring, I step up to him, wrap my arm around his neck, and pull him down for a kiss. He growls in appreciation, tugging me close with only the towel between us. I press my hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

I run my hands over his taut muscles, feeling them ripple beneath my touch. He's like a living statue carved by hand, each muscle defined and perfectly proportional. I feel bold, reckless. I slide my hands down his back, feeling the coolness of wet skin turning warm beneath my touch.

He steps back, his smirk back in place as he looks down on me. “Careful, Princess. You’re playing with fire.”

I study him, not sure what he means.

“You come on to me without warning, I might just toss you on the bed and sink my cock inside that sweet pussy of yours.”

There’s a part of his warning that excites me, but another part feels unsure. With his dick evident in the towel, I’m not sure I’m ready for what it could be like, especially if Matteo is normally rough.

I take a step back.

“I hope I didn’t scare you now… or last night," he says.

I shake my head. “I liked last night.”

He smiles. “Good. That was the point.”

“Can we do it again?” I realize how nuts I sound. I’m afraid of sex, but I want his touch. I crave it.

Matteo chuckles. "You’re ready for more so soon?"

I feel my cheeks heat in a blush. I swear I don’t understand how I’m just blurting all this embarrassing stuff out.

“I tell you what,” he says, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and slipping them on along with a T-shirt. “I’ll show you something new.”

The fact that he’s dressing tells me he’s not planning to have intercourse. If what he’s thinking is anything like last night, I’m totally up for it.

“Okay.”

“You need to get undressed.” His tone tells me I can decline. I’ve never been naked in front of a man before, and while I’m self-conscious, I’m also eager to have him touch me.

I tug off my shirt and jeans.

“Bra and panties too. Then lie on the bed.”

I swallow, wondering if I’m getting in over my head. My body doesn’t seem to care about that. It's hot and needy, winning out over my head. I take off my bra and panties, watching Matteo’s expression. Heat flares in his eyes. He likes what he sees. It bolsters my courage.

I lie on the bed, and he joins me, covering my body with his.

“I’ve touched you. Now I’m going to taste you.” He kisses me, hard. I moan, my body arching into him, wanting to feel him.

His kisses trail down my neck, over my collarbone. He licks my nipple, and I feel like I’ve stuck my finger in a light socket. Electricity zaps through my body.

He looks up at me from between my breasts. “Are you okay?”

I nod.

“Relax, Ava. You’ll enjoy this.” He wraps his lips around my nipple and sucks, and holy moly, every nerve in my body fires all at once. I gasp and hold his head to me as he sucks and licks. It’s so good. So, so good.

His lips pull away and trail kisses down my stomach, lower and lower. I panic. “What are you doing?”

Again he looks up at me. “Tasting you.”

“But… there?”

His smile is wicked. “Yes. I’m dying to taste your sweet pussy.”

Oh. My. God. Is that a thing?

“Trust me. You’ll like this even better than last night.”

I can’t imagine he’d like it, though. But I don’t stop him. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He smiles, kissing my inner thigh. Then he maneuvers my legs over his shoulders, putting his mouth over my center. My fingers grip the sheets, not sure what’s going to happen next.

His tongue slides through my folds, and my world tilts off its axis. “Oh!”

I can’t explain what he’s doing, except that his tongue is everywhere. Licking and lapping. Swirling and flicking and sucking. Now I feel like I’ve grabbed a live wire. Everything inside me is lit up, on fire, burning hot, coiling tighter.

"More." Did that come from me?

He hums in response, the vibration reverberating through me. The pleasure builds to a crescendo of sensations. I’m lost, lost in a whirlwind of heat and fire and pressure.

“Matteo.” I’m whimpering with need. Something has to give, and yet, I worry what will happen when it does. The pleasure is almost too much, bordering on torture.

“Time to come,” he murmurs against me. He slides a finger inside me as his lips suckle the hard nub between my thighs. I feel like I’ve been shot out of a cannon. Everything explodes. My brain. My cells. My nerves. I cry out as the pleasure rockets through me, my body rocking and writhing through it all.

Even as my body settles down, I’m still pulsing between my thighs. Matteo gives me one last kiss down there and then moves up my body. He kisses my lips, and at first, I want to be revolted. But the way he holds me, his dick hard between us, I find tasting myself on his lips to be hot. Intimate.

“Was it better?” he asks.

“That was…” I make a motion with my hands to illustrate that my brain was blown.

His grin is wide and beautiful. “Good.” He gives my nipple another quick pinch and then gets out of bed. His dick is tenting his sweatpants, and it occurs to me that I’m the only one getting any pleasure from all this.

“Does it hurt?” I ask.

“Does what hurt?” He goes to his closet and pulls out a hanger with dark slacks and a matching coat.

I point to his dick. “Your erection.”

He smirks. “You mean my hard-on?”

I frown. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Sorry. No. It’s fucking uncomfortable, but it doesn’t hurt.”

“Can I help?”

He groans. “Fuck… you don’t know your impact on me.”

Is that good?

He waves his hand. “It’s okay. I’ll deal with it in the bathroom.”

“Can I watch?” Again, I’m not sure how my curiosity toward sexual acts has short-wired my mouth.

He gapes at me, and I realize it’s the first time I’ve taken him off guard. I sort of like it.

I rise from the edge of bed and go to him. I carefully pull his waistband out and down until his dick is free. It’s amazing. Beautiful, even. I run my finger from root to tip, surprised at how soft the skin is over the hard length.

“Ava.” His voice sounds tortured.

I look up at him. “I want to see you come.”