Page 69 of Brutal Revenge

Matteo groans.

“And wet.”

He shudders.

“And tight.”

His response this time is more of a growl than a moan. “How tight?”

Closing my eyes, I push my finger all the way inside, reveling in how good it feels for the walls of my vagina to have something to cling to as the tingles running rampant through my core double.

“Tight enough to knowthatis going to destroy me.” I open my eyes and lock them on his fat cock.

I’m no longer worried about masturbating in front of an audience when Matteo removes his cock from his pants and gives it a long stroke. It’s a fight to keep quiet when a trickle of pre-cum pools at the top of his impressive manhood.

The veins in his hands throb as his speed picks up. Over and over again, he slides his hand down the base before he returns it to the tip. I flick my clit just as often and pump my finger in rhythm to the speed of his strokes.

With my lower lip between my teeth, I pretend my finger is his cock, and my thumb is his fantastic V muscle. The sensation is amazing. My body relishes every tingle, grateful that the years of tension it’s been begging me to let go of are finally relenting.

“I wish I could replace my thumb with your tongue.”

Matteo rocks his big dick in and out of his fisted hand three times before he replies, “If only I could, but you’ve been drinking.” He aligns his lusty eyes with mine. “People do stupid shit when they’re drunk.”

“Is that why you bartered for me? Because you’d been drinking?”

Should I even care? The reasoning behind his motives that day won’t change anything.

It’ll only remind me of my own.

“Don’t answer that. I don’t care. I just want to come.”

A jolt darts through me when Matteo growls out, “Then stop treating your clit like it’s fragile and give it the attention it deserves.”

All of me shakes, even my legs, when I pinch my clit. I sink into the mattress as fireworks burst before my eyes. This feels amazing. Much better than any self-stimulation routine I’ve undertaken previously.

The crueler I treat my clit, the wetter I become.

I imagine it isn’t my hands on me. It’s Matteo’s mouth, teeth, and tongue.

“I’m close,” I warn, the tingles too rampant to ignore.

“Watch me, Azra. Give me your fucking eyes.” Matteo’s trousers brush my knee as he moves closer. “Let me see you unravel.”

The slow build of the wave in my stomach intensifies when our eyes lock and hold. He screams my praises without a word leaving his mouth, and I can’t hold back for a second longer. A surge of euphoria floods me as I plunge my finger in and out of myself.

As a climax overwhelms me, I press my lips together to keep myself from waking his family. Every muscle in my body pulls taut as I thrash against the mattress, stars exploding.

I can’t catch my breath… or keep my eyelids open a second longer.

I’m barely coherent as I drift among clouds of orgasmic bliss and pure exhaustion, but I swear Matteo says, “Because I wanted to save you… even knowing you’d most likely need saving from me over all others.”

Chapter 19

Azra

Matteo’s words float me back to reality awfully fast. Don’t mistake me. I’m still airy and tipsy, but you’d have to have a heart of stone not to react to a confession like that.

“What do you mean I’d need to be saved from you more than anyone else?”