Beautiful Pain - J.M. Walker Page 0,32

Matteo.” I took another sip.

“And?”

“Nika, it was amazing. I’ve never…I’ve never felt so alive.” I took a breath. “I know I haven’t been dating him for long but…”

“It’s intense, isn’t it?”

I met her gaze. “Yes. It is. This…this attraction I have for him is so strong, it’s almost like I can physically touch it. My chest aches.” I rubbed the spot between my breasts. “It doesn’t make sense—”

“Yes.” Nika placed a hand gently on my arm. “It does. It makes perfect sense.”

“But I left. Why did I leave? I didn’t wait for him to wake up. He knows and he’s pissed. Nika, what if he never wants to see me again? What if this is over before it even begins?”

“I…” Nika stared at me intently.

“What?”

“I’ve never seen this…this side of you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, frowning.

“I’ve never seen you show this much emotion. Especially over a man. He made you laugh and smile last night, Mae. Girl, he’s good for you. Give him time.” She smiled, squeezing my hand. “I saw the way he looks at you.” She winked at me.

I laughed.

“See? A laugh!” She squealed, clapping her hands together and threw her arms around my neck. “I need to thank him.”

“For what?” I asked, returning her embrace.

“For bringing me my best friend back.”

“I’m not back completely,” I whispered.

“No. Maybe not. But Marketa Dobry, the girl I grew up with…” Nika tapped the spot over my heart. “I know she’s in there. Somewhere. And Matteo Santos will be the one to help her appear.”

(Matteo)

Walking into Heavy, I had a purpose. The BDSM club tempted me into giving in. To find a submissive brat to curb my cravings. But I knew no one would satisfy me except for a little brunette.

It had been a week since I saw Mae. Seven fucking days since I spoke to her. One-hundred and sixty-eight hours since I felt her heat.

My blood stirred, my dick jumping in my pants.

“Hey, Santos.”

I glanced over my shoulder at the sound of the deep voice and saw Duncan Hastings approaching me. He had a tall blonde thing on his arm. “Hey,” I answered back and took a step towards the row of St. Andrew’s Crosses. The hairs on the back of my neck tingled. My body stiffened, a cold chill gripping my spine. Taking a deep breath, my gaze landed on a woman sitting in a large red leather chair in the corner of the room.

Her blood stained lips contrasted against her pale skin. Her long black fingernails tapped impatiently against the arm of the chair. She crooked a finger at me, indicating for me to go to her.

My feet moved of their own accord. One step. Two. Until I was only a foot away.

She pointed to the ground without so much as a word.

And before I could protest, before I could scream for her to leave me alone…

I submitted.

Matteo

“Has my little boy been behaving himself?” she asked, running her thumb along my bottom lip.

“Yes,” I answered automatically, my body swaying towards her.

She pinched my chin, moving my head back and forth. “You met someone. Who is she?” she asked, her dark eyes narrowing to slits.

My heart thumped hard, the blood pounding in my ears. “No one.”

Faster than I expected, her palm connected with my cheek. The sting of her nails scratching into my skin made my dick throb. I licked my lip, the metallic taste of blood coating my tongue. I would have laughed but that would only make things worse.

My head was in a fog as her lips moved. She spoke. I pretended to listen. But I didn’t hear anything she had to say. I went through the motions. Waiting. It was the same thing every time she showed up. She would break me. Force me to my knees. And I would give in. I would submit. To her. To them.

“Who is she?” she repeated in a firmer tone, pulling me from my thoughts.

“There is no one.”

“Do not fucking lie to me.” She leaned towards me, her mouth mere inches from mine. “I taught you everything you know, little boy. Does your slut know you crave pain? Does she know you need it to get off?” A slow grin spread on her face when I didn’t answer. “She doesn’t know, does she?”

No. Because it wasn’t fucking true. I didn’t need pain to be with Mae. Mae was the one that begged it of me. Not the other way around. But I didn’t need to tell her that.

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