Page 11 of Brutal Revenge

A small knowing smile tugs at the corner of his kiss-swollen mouth, but he doesn’t deny my claim. He simply addresses my libido ratherthan my always-cautious head.

“Then why’d you stop?” He adjusts the tilt of his hips, destroying the mask I’ve been endeavoring to rebuild since he shattered it with one swipe of his tongue. We’re a measly thread pop away from his dick springing free from his trousers. “A kiss will keep Antonio seething for an hour… two at most.Morewill keep him furious for days.”

“More?” I ask, already knowing his reply.

Even a good righteous girl couldn’t mistake tension this white-hot.

“More,” Matteo repeats, his tone unchanged. There’s no forced coercion or stigma of involuntary participation. The ball is entirely in my court—just like it was in the mudroom of the Adami mansion.

If he hadn’t kissed me when he did, I doubt I would have held back a moment longer. I wasn’t solely desperate to prove his theory fraudulent. I wanted to do anything in my power to remove Isabella’s lustful eyes from him. She was stalking our departure as much as her brothers were, but her eyes didn’t veer from Matteo for a moment.

For some unknown reason, her hungry gawk made me furious.

Silence lingers between us as we undertake an intense stare-down. It isn’t uncomfortable. It’s charged with the hum of life. I can feel the imprint of his mouth on mine, the warmth of his hand on my back as he encouraged my grinds, and the stability of his presence in a world that has never given me consistency.

The quiet swirls chaos low in my stomach, but it also gives me plenty of time to rehearse Matteo’s plan in my head. He laid it out so confidently that one kiss has me believing in miracles.

All I have to do to make Antonio come crawling back on his hands and knees is make him insanely jealous.

It’sthatsimple.

Making him desire what he can’t have is a strategy I understand and can execute without a sliver of remorse.

My heart just needs to get the memo that men like Matteo are casualties of the game.

They can’t be a main player.

I know a great way to soften the blow to a man as dominating and imposing as a Caruso.

“Did you… Should I… If-if you want… I could…”

Matteo hooks his thumb to the scenery whizzing by the tinted window of the SUV. “Shall we head back there to undertake another lesson on how quickly the cutesy act deflates a man’s cock, or shall I whip out my dick and show you?”

He’s so crude, but for some reason, my pulse spikes instead of deflating.

“If you want me to suck your dick to thank you for your help, I can. But if you’d rather wait until you are home to stroke out the tension of our kiss like a loser with a baboon’s ass for a face, that’s fine too. Your loss.”

I’m disgusted by the words that left my mouth but lose the chance to issue a single apology.

“Do you know how to suck dick? Or did you throw out the first offer your lust-hazy head came up with?”

Ignoring the mirth in his tone during his last question, I nod to his first question.

The sternness of Matteo’s scald soon shifts my response to a headshake.

“I’m a fast learner.”

“Maybe on a dick as small as Antonio’s, but you need more than a few lessons for a Caruso cock. The jaw strengthening alone will take a week of vigorous physical therapy exercises.”

His laughter grates on my last nerve. I roll my eyes before shifting them to the window next to me.

I assume my bratty act will be the end of our conversation, until the privacy partition slowly glides into place, hiding the Adamis’s driver’s head from view.

In the corner of my eye, I drink in the way Matteo’s erection pitches a tent in his trousers. The snug fit waters my mouth, and in this exact moment, I realize I’m not solely doing this to make Antonio jealous.

I’m also doing it for myself.

I’ve followed the rules for years, and look where they’ve gotten me. Dumped a mere week before my wedding and traded as if I’m worthless.