Beautiful Pain - J.M. Walker Page 0,13

he was the dominant type but that was reaffirmed when he cuffed me to his couch. I wondered what other toys of pleasure laid around his apartment.

BDSM.

Safeword.

Santos.

My stomach twisted. What would he say if I told him I had been forced into the lifestyle at a young age? Would he still want me? Would he still crave me like I found myself craving him?

“Mae? You still there?”

“Yes. Sorry.” I pulled on shorts and a tank top and grabbed my phone.

“What’s going on?”

I could hear the concern in his voice. “Nothing. I’m fine.” Life’s biggest lie but it was one of the lies most people didn’t question.

“You’re lying to me again, Mae.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. If I told you everything, this would end before it even began.”

“I don’t think that could ever happen.”

I sighed. “I need coffee. I’ll see you tonight,” I mumbled and hung up the phone.

If tonight would still be on. Maybe Matteo would change his mind and find I’m too crazy for him. Either way, I wanted to start fresh. I wanted him to know me for now, not for my past.

I headed into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. Most mornings, I drank it by myself as Nika worked days. And I worked whatever shift was available. I didn’t need the money but I refused to live off of my father. My stomach churned. I should call him.

A half an hour later when I was about to jump in the shower, the doorbell rang followed by a chime on my phone.

Matteo: Answer your door, Marketa.

I glanced between the door and the phone. “Matteo?” I opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t like being hung up on.” He pushed his way inside and kicked the door closed. His gaze remained locked with mine. “Do you think hanging up on me gives you some sort of control?”

“No.” I backed up until I hit the couch, falling over the arm.

He towered over me, crawling between my knees. His fingers inched under the strap of my tank top and pulled it off my shoulder, exposing my breast to him. “Do you always answer the door wearing this?”

“No,” I breathed. “I fell asleep in my uniform so I threw this on.”

His hot mouth covered my nipple. “What were you doing before I showed up?”

“I…” I arched under him, needing more than just his mouth on me. “I was about to take a shower.”

“Hmm…” He pinched the nub and brushed his nose along the length of my neck. “I can’t stop touching you.”

“Don’t stop,” I panted, pushing my breast into his large palm. “Please.”

“Why?” He nipped my chin. “What do you want from me, Mae?”

“You.” I spread my legs. “Please.”

His mouth moved along my collar bone, heating my skin on fire. But it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t take it anymore.

I pushed him back and straddled his lap, crashing my mouth to his. Digging my fingers in his hair, I tugged and pulled, igniting a snarl to leave his lips. “Matteo.”

“Fuck, Marketa.” He gripped my top with both hands and ripped it in half, pulling it free from my body. Covering my nipple, he sucked it into his mouth, holding me tight against him.

I moaned, throwing my head back and pushed my hips in his lap. I could feel him. Every single inch. He was hard beneath his pants, the heavy weight of him pushing into my core.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he demanded, kissing the spot between my breasts.

“I…I…”

“Tell me,” he snarled, sinking his teeth into the flesh.

“Fuck me!” I cried out. The slight burn of pain washed over my skin, sending a desire racing through my being.

He grunted in satisfaction and pushed me onto my back. “When is Nika going to be home?” he asked, kissing me hard on the mouth.

“Not until late tonight.”

“Excellent.” With a rough move, he pulled my shorts to my ankles. “Spread your legs for me, sweet girl.” He cupped my throat. “I want to see how wet you are for me.”

I did as he demanded, waiting. I wasn’t sure how far this would go. Was I ready for him completely? My body sure as hell was. My skin tingled. My muscles vibrated. The need for him to take me to new heights of pleasure was so strong, it took my breath away.

“Your pussy is nice and swollen.” He brushed a finger over my mound. “I’ve hardly touched you and yet, your pretty

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