Page 21 of Defending Mateo
The only reward she was interested in was being allowed to go home, and since that wasn't going to happen, she didn't care about whatever stupid reward Mateo was referring to.
“I want to watch you make yourself come, you deserve a little pleasure after you got everyone else off, don’t you think?”
Despite how desperate she’d been just an hour ago, how she’d give anything for an orgasm, even if she had to have it with an audience, she didn't want to do this. Already, she’d been made so vulnerable before these people, and this felt like giving another piece of herself away.
But what choice did she have?
“Touch yourself, little mouse,” Mateo said, his voice softer this time, an almost … urgent … quality to it as he dropped down into the other chair, which had been set up right in front of hers, so he’d have a perfect view of what she was doing.
If she did it.
Who was she kidding? What else was she going to do?
But touching herself like this, with Mateo watching, felt wrong. Dirty. They’d done it before, when he was learning her body, what she liked, what turned her on, but that was different. She’d been nervous then, but she’d wanted to do it. The hunger in Mateo’s eyes had been thrilling, filled her with a power she hadn't experienced before. He’d watched her then with rapt attention, his breath warm on her skin as he dotted kisses to her lips, her breasts, her neck, her stomach, her legs. Then, when she was still riding the wave of the orgasm, he’d buried his lips between her legs and made her come all over again.
That day was one of her favorite memories of her time with Mateo.
This was one of the worst.
Since she didn't have a choice, Ally moved her trembling fingers between her legs. At the last moment, she hesitated, wanting to beg Mateo not to make her do this, but she shoved the thought away. She had to stop thinking about him as the man she’d fallen in love with. It was hard, but she had to rememberthat he was a monster, that everything from before was a lie, that man never really existed.
Tears trailed down her cheeks as she found her bud. It was swollen beneath her fingers, and so overly sensitive that it almost hurt to touch. But she had to. Had to throw away any self-respect she had left and make herself come with Mateo’s dark gaze watching her every move.
August 17th
9:39 A.M.
This was pushing his limits to the extreme.
Almost beyond what he could endure.
Why had he thought this was a good idea?
Mateo watched as Ally tentatively circled her bundle of nerves with a finger. With how tense her body looked, he assumed that it wasn't bringing her any pleasure yet, but that was because she wasn't trying the way he knew she needed to touch herself to bring her to orgasm.
After keeping her aroused and denying her orgasms for almost twenty-four hours, he’d thought this was a fair reward for her resisting the urge to make herself come. They were alone in here, so she didn't have an audience, well beyond the camera, and he was trying to give her what power over her own body he could by letting her get herself off rather than him doing it.
It was the best he could give her, and he was still trying to protect her however he could.
But the tears trailing down her cheeks told him he was doing nothing at all to protect her. He was hurting her over and over again, and he didn't know how to make it stop. She thought hewas a monster, and that was for the best. Once she was sold, he would do what he always did and get the buyer’s name to Falcon and Prey so they could go in after her. Part of him wanted her to know then it was because of him she’d been rescued so she didn't hate him, but he wasn't sure that was in her best interest.
As badly as he wanted to try Nathan’s plan for Emma and find a way to fake Ally’s death to get her out, that felt like he’d be prioritizing the life of one over the lives of many, and that wasn't focusing on justice, it was being selfish.
All the women here wanted out as badly as Ally did, and if he did it for her but not for them, he’d be doing it for his own benefit not hers, and that would be wrong of him. He had to shut his emotions down, see her the same way as all the others.
Only as he watched her finger half-heartedly touch herself, those tears a constant stream down her flushed cheeks, he wanted to throw all his preconceived ideas of what was right out the window and do whatever it took to protect this woman.
She was his, the others weren't.
“You're not doing that the way you need to come, little mouse,” he said, needing to give her this one little thing, as though one orgasm could erase the hours she’d spent needing to come but not being allowed to.
Her fingers stilled for a moment, and she whimpered, but quickly cut off the sound because she probably wasn't sure whether she was allowed to speak. It was the opposite of what he’d spent months helping her learn, to stand up for herself, to speak up, to tell others what she was thinking, what she needed, what she wanted.
“Dip a finger inside you, little mouse,” he coached. Maybe Ally didn't care whether or not she came, but he needed to see her fall apart to ease the growing ball of guilt inside him.
Although she hesitated for a moment, she slipped a finger inside herself, and that guilt that was eating him alive took a step back.
Everything would be a little better for her once she came.
