Page 57 of Brutal Revenge

Mercifully, Matteo is as smart as he is handsome.

Even with the zipper of his tuxedo stretching the stiffmaterial, his cock remains in his pants. He doesn’t even use his fingers to bring me to climax again. He uses nothing but his mouth and tongue, and I claw at his head without remorse.

I don’t know how many times I’ve climaxed by the time Matteo crawls up my spent body. It could be a dozen or even just three. That’s how wrung out I am. They’re back to back, leaving me utterly exhausted.

“There it is.”

My brows scarcely furrow before he strives to eradicate my confusion.

“The thing you were missing. It’s back now.”

You can hear my smile in my words. “Weren’t you on your knees, begging for forgiveness?”

His smile. Kill. Me. Slowly. A torturous death may be the only way I’ll go to heaven. “I thought that’s what this was about.” He brushes his knuckles down my heated cheek. “But who’d ever see eating the world’s most scrumptious cunt as an act of redemption? Eating your pussy should never be a negotiation tactic,micina.”

I taste myself on his mouth when I reacquaint our lips. This time, our kiss is dreamy and tender in a way I didn’t think a man like Matteo could display. It soars my heart rate above my libido and has me blinking slowly when he eventually pulls back.

Immaturely, I pout.

Smiling, Matteo twangs my lower lip. “I could eat your pussy for eternity.” His voice is as strained as his tuxedo pants. “But even the fairy godmother’s patience thins when you disrespect it.”

I still as a ruckus of disaster fires through me. The theme of tonight’s gala is Cinderella. It has great significance to me, and I can’t believe I forgot for even a second.

I’ve been working toward this ruse for years.

I’m faintly aware of Matteo’s lips brushing my collarbone before strong arms pull me into a seated position. My head is woozy, trapped in a lust haze, but years of having the rules beaten into me are hard to ignore.

“My mother would kill me if I went out in public with no panties.”

“Already on it,” Matteo replies, clasping a fresh pair of panties in his tattooed hand.

I raise a brow and twist my lips before glancing at his trouser pocket. With how strained his trousers are at the groin, I can see every delicate stitch of the lacy panties he pocketed earlier.

“They’re for later.” Kneeling before me, he slides a clean pair of panties up my still-shuddering thighs. “Thatwon’t take care of itself.” At the start of his reply, he thrusts his hand at his crotch, which is pitching a tent.

“Do you want help?” I can’t believe the words leaving my mouth. I swore after the last time he left me hanging that I wouldn’t give him the opportunity again. I must be suffering from shock. It’s expected. I’ve never come so hard. “We’re already late, so what’s another two minutes?”

He gives me a playful nudge before he guides me out of the walk-in closet. “Appreciate the offer, but my cock deserves to be punished.” He adjusts his crotch, which announces without words that the zipper is biting in deep. “A pinch of pain might stop him from making me act like a chump for the second time today.”

“Is that recommended?” I fight to hide my smile when he scoops up my heels from the end of the bed and keeps walking. In Turkish culture, it’s disrespectful to wear shoes indoors, so I won’t put them on until we’re in the limousine. “Completely changing your persona in under an hour is ill-advised. I’m shocked your shrink didn’t warn you about that.”

Matteo’s hearty laugh gives me the perfect excuse for the heat on my cheeks. Even the elderly housemaid dusting trinkets on a hallway table blushes when it reaches her ears.

“He probably did, but it’s hard to be convincing when you’re seconds away from having your mouth filled with lead.”

Chapter 15

Matteo

The limousine hums beneath us, smooth and effortless, but I feel like I’m sitting on a live wire. My jaw aches from clenching it. My hands won’t stay still, and every breath feels like it’s scraping against the bullets my brothers fired into my chest without remorse for how badly they’d take me down.

They knew exactly how they were manipulating me when they played me like a fucking fiddle.

One taste of her—just one perfectly delicious taste—and I was done. Addicted. Hooked. Dragged under without the possibility of coming up for air.

Azra’s pussy…fuck.

She tastes sweet and innocent, but also devilish.