Chapter Fifteen
I’ve experienced a few moments of pure tenderness in my life—not a lot, but a few.
My high school boyfriend took me out on Lake Michigan with some friends one memorable night. We drank some beers and he let me steer at one point. When the rest of the group was on a different part of the boat, he gave me this really loving smile and just grabbed my hand to give it a squeeze, and it was one of those pure, simple moments that sticks with you. Even after I married Rodney, with whom I do not have any of those memories, I always regarded it as the most tender moment of my life.
Until tonight, when I return to Mateo’s bedroom after my bath and see him in the bed, still in his dress pants and his white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, both of our daughters curled up against him as he reads them a bedtime story.
I’ve never experienced the moment I fell in love before—not with that high school boyfriend, not with Rodney, not with anyone. But I feel it right now. I haven’t been noticed yet, and Lily points to the little girl in the last picture, then she holds her little finger up and gives her “one more time” spiel.
He smiles down at her and rolls his eyes, but he flips back to the front of the book with a, “Fine, fine. Only one more, though.” Isabella gives her a high five, apparently never having thought of that before.
I step back into the bathroom and lean against the wall, needing a moment to collect myself. My heart is still racing, and it’s very difficult not to go back in there, rip the book away from them, and shoo those cute little munchkins to bed so I can jump in bed with him myself.
Very hard.
Oh, man.
I listen for him to finish the story again—and admire the enthusiasm with which he reads it for the second time in a row, because I’m always less into it the second time—then I head back in there, just in time for Lily to ask again for him to read it one more time.
“No, no, no,” I say, climbing up on the bed with a smile. “It’s time for you to go to sleep, little one.”
“I’m older than her,” Isabella informs me.
“And you also have to go to sleep,” Mateo informs her.
“But Audrey doesn’t want to,” she says, holding up her doll to show him. “See, she says no.”
“Good thing I don’t take orders from dolls,” he states.
“I thought her name was… Marcella?” I ask.
“It was Monicella, but I changed it,” she informs me. “We should get them some pajamas next time we go.”
“Agreed,” I say with a nod.
“We should take Daddy there.”
I look at him, my eyes mockingly wide. “I would pay good money to see your daddy in the American Girl doll store. I second that.”
“I’m completely comfortable with my masculinity, I can handle a doll store,” he informs me. “We’ll go this weekend, get your dolls some pajamas. But right now…”
I climb back off the bed, dragging a giggling Lily with me. “Off to bed with you two.”
Getting them off the bed is the hard part, then they’re padding down the hall with their bare little feet and matching Cinderella nighties. Once I get them both tucked in, good night kisses delivered, I hustle down the hall back to Mateo’s bedroom—my bedroom now, I guess.
He’s sitting there amongst the pillows, hands crossed behind his head, looking all smug like he can read my mind. It doesn’t even lessen how much I want to jump his bones.
Kicking the door shut, I leap up on the bed and attack him with my face.
He laughs against my mouth, his arms encircling my waist. “What’s this for?”
I pull back just enough to give him a dry look. “I think you know.”
“I’m as clueless as can be.”
“There’s literally nothing sexier than a man being a good dad. Looking at you in these suits every day? Super hot. Your scary, dangerous mob boss thing? Fine, okay. But you snuggling our daughters and reading them a bedtime story? Holy shit. Get your cock inside me right now, Morelli.”
“You’re my favorite person in the world,” he states, shaking his head as he yanks me down onto the bed and climbs on top of me.
“Ditto.”
A thrill soars through me at the sight of him hovering above me, an adorable, playful smile on his face before he swoops down, his lips moving to his favorite spot—my neck. I love that he’s a neck kisser. He lets his teeth graze my skin briefly before dropping a kiss right in that spot, like he’s making up for even a hint of roughness.
Mateo’s hand moves under the red satin of my nightie, sliding between my legs. I did not bother with panties tonight, and he smiles, pleased, as his finger easily moves inside me. When his fingertip grazes my clit, I moan softly, my back arching away from the bed.
“You like my hands on you, don’t you?” he murmurs into my ear.
“Oh, yes,” I say, my hold on his back tightening as he moves a second finger inside me.
“Tell me how much.”
His thumb moves in circles around my clit, spreading pleasure everywhere. “So much. I love the feeling of your hands all over my body. You make my heart race, Mateo Morelli—and not for the reason most people’s hearts probably race around you,” I add, smirking.
With his free hand, he yanks my nightie up around my waist, dipping to leave a searing trail of kisses down my stomach. His fingers withdraw and he sits back, yanking his shirt off and tossing it off the bed. Then he’s between my legs, his hot breath on the inside of my thigh. I clutch the pillow in anticipation, and a moment later his tongue is inside me, flicking against my clit and sending jolts of pleasure all through my body. Particularly ravenous tonight, he has me arching off the bed as an orgasm rocks me in about a minute.
“Jeeze,” I mutter, falling against the bed and watching him unbuckle his belt, tossing it behind him, and unzip his pants.
“Still want my cock?” he teases.
“So, so much.”
“I can make that happen,” he says lightly, sinking against me, positioning himself between my legs.
“What can’t you make happen?” I return with a roll of my eyes.
“Rain, probably.”
I start to laugh, but then he pushes inside me and all traces of amusement are quickly pushed out to make room for desire. He fills me slowly, capturing my lips with his. I wind my arms around his neck to keep him close as he moves his hips, easing out before pushing inside of me. I love the slow torment sometimes, but tonight it’s killing me. I need more. Harder. Faster.
Thankfully, I don’t have to wait too long. Once he’s satisfied that he won’t hurt me, he hikes my legs up and thrusts deep. His unyielding hips pound into mine again and again, pushing me closer and closer with each deep stroke. He claims me with every part of him—his mouth, his hands, his cock.
When he pushes me past my bursting point, I come apart in his arms, pleasure exploding inside me. He keeps up his pace as my pussy grips him, convulsing around his cock.
“Oh, fuck, Meg,” he mutters, closing his eyes and giving one last thrust. I open my eyes in time to see him tense and groan with his own orgasm. I flex my muscles as he moves slowly, trying to give him every last drop of pleasure I can.
Finally, with a sigh, he drops on top of me. I embrace him snugly, dropping a couple of absent kisses on his shoulder.
When we’ve both recovered, but we’re still relaxed, he tells me, “We should do that again in a few minutes.”
I snort, rubbing his back tenderly. “We should keep doing it all night long.”
“I like the way you think.”
---
My second Sunday dinner is a vast improvement over the first.
Mia and I commiserate in the kitchen. Elise doesn’t join in, and I wonder if we should try to include her more. I’m still not super sure what’s going on with her. The understanding seems to be that she’s Adrian’s, and she sits to his right at dinner now, but they never touch or give any indication of togetherness.
When she goes to the bathroom, I nudge Mia to get her attention. “What’s the deal with those two?”
“Which two?” she asks, wrapping foil around a pie crust.
“Adrian and Elise.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She shakes her head, lightly rolling her eyes. “It’s super confusing but Vince really likes Adrian so he won’t gossip about him, and also Vince just isn’t big on gossip at all. Now that I don’t live at the castle, I have no idea what goes on at court.”
I snort at that. “Mateo’s court. Does that make me the queen?”
“I think it does,” she verifies with a smiling nod. “I’m at least a knight’s wife.”
“And you have the king’s favor,” I add lightly.
“Well, knights are dashing, but I’m not gonna say no to new baubles.”
“I’m sure someday Vince will have bauble money. He’s young.”
“I’m not complaining,” she says. “I joke about the shoes, but it’s more than worth living without them to have peace of mind. Though I feel like you’ve mellowed Mateo a little. It’s nice that he has something to occupy his time other than playing with all our lives.”
“I like to think I’m much more fun to play with.”
Mia grins. “I don’t doubt it.”
“You guys should move back,” I decide, dropping my knife into the sink. “Then we could hang out all the time.”
“No,” she drawls, shaking her head. “No, no, no, no, no, no.”
“You sure you don’t need to think about that?” I joke. “Was it really so bad living here?”
“I just don’t want to tempt Mateo.” Glancing my way quickly, she adds, “Not that way. Well, kind of. I don’t know. I just think it’s best for everyone to leave things the way they are. Besides, I have a car now, so I can come over anytime we want to hang out.”
I don’t like the implication that she thinks he would stray, but I decide it’s just because she doesn’t know him the way I do.
We serve our men and take our seats beside them. Mateo doesn’t drop any new bombs, so we all get to enjoy our meals tonight.
I can’t help wondering if there’s been any update though. I don’t feel comfortable asking Mateo about the “business” side of things, but I would really love an update on the Antonio Castellanos situation. Mia’s my only trusted ally, and she doesn’t know any of that stuff either. Adrian surely does, but that’s a step too far—I won’t ask him that.