Born in Blood Collection Volume 1 - Cora Reilly Page 0,266

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 fucking buttons, Gianna. Did I hurt you?”

Concern, there it was again. Damn it. Why couldn’t he stop acting like he was a normal guy? Did he really think that would make me forget who and what he really was? “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”

“I don’t. I loved every fucking second of it. I’ve waited a long time for this moment. I’ve spent almost every waking moment of my search for you imagining having your hot body under me. But in my imagination you were moaning my name and having multiple orgasms. You definitely weren’t in pain.”

That arrogant bastard. “Keep imagining that. It won’t happen.”

Matteo braced himself against the doorframe, trapping me between his arms. “Your body reacted to me, Gianna, even if you don’t want to admit it. Next time you will come when I fuck you, trust me.”

“What makes you think my body was reacting to you? Maybe I was imagining I was with someone else. The mind is a powerful tool.” I tried to slip away under his arm but he pushed me against the doorframe. “Maybe I was imagining it was Sid and not you fucking me.”

Matteo didn’t even blink. He didn’t believe a word I was saying. Damn it!

“If you’d really wanted Sid to be your first, you would have let him fuck you. So why didn’t you?”

“Because you killed him!”

Matteo smiled. “We both know that’s not the reason why, but let’s just pretend it were true. Then I’m glad he’s dead. That wimp didn’t deserve the privilege.”

I couldn’t believe him. “You asshole. I knew you’d get a kick out of it, that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

Matteo leaned close until there was less than an inch between our lips. “But I know and I won’t ever forget. You are mine now, Gianna, and I fucking love that I caught you before you found a loser to pop your cherry.”

I tried to slap him but he caught my wrist and actually kissed my palm with a self-satisfied grin. I wrenched my hand away from him. A myriad of insults flitted through my mind, too many to choose only one.

Matteo nodded toward the bed. “Maybe I should tell everyone that we can have a presentation of the sheets after all.”

My eyes grew wide. That was the last thing I wanted, and Matteo knew it. He was taunting me. I pushed past him and this time he let me, and rushed toward the bed. There was a small pink smudge on the sheet. Men had it so much easier. Women had really been screwed over when it came to anatomy. We got our period, we couldn’t pee standing up, we had to squeeze something the size of a melon out of our vagina and our first time sucked majorly. “You wouldn’t dare,” I said.

Matteo crossed his arms over his chest. He was still gloriously naked and was getting a boner again. The bastard was turned on by our fight. “You shouldn’t tempt me.”

I shrugged. “Even if you showed the sheets to your family, nobody would believe you anyway. They think I’m a slut, remember? They’d probably think you faked the stain with your own blood like Luca did on his wedding night.” I tensed. This was a secret I was supposed to keep. Nobody knew. Why couldn’t I ever keep my stupid mouth shut?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Matteo

Gianna’s eyes widened when she let Aria and Luca’s little secret slip. Did she actually think I didn’t know? Luca and I would die for each other. He knew he could trust me with every secret, even one that revealed he wasn’t quite the cruel bastard he and everyone else thought he was. Somehow by some stroke of luck our sadist of a father had made the right decision when he’d chosen Aria for Luca. I didn’t think he’d known how well those two would get along, or he wouldn’t have agreed to the match. He’d always strived on the misery of others.