Page 70 of Brutal Revenge

He freezes, his cock still fisted.

His expression is unreadable, but something dark flickers behind his eyes.

“You’re a good person, Ruso. You might have a monstrous dick, but that’s the only monstrous thing about you.”

He arches a brow. “Ruso?”

I twist my lips as if I’m not fighting the urge to run my tongue over the slit in his cut penis to gather up the droplet of pre-cum beading there. “Everyone needs a nickname. You’re not a Matt.” He gags with me. “And Teo is what your brothers call you when you’re not pissing them off.” Can you come solely from a laugh? Because I’m on edge just after the quickest chuckle. “I wanted something different. Something just for me.”

The wave in the lower half of my stomach slowly reforms when hiscock twitches as I align our eyes. He’s no longer stroking himself, but that doesn’t detract from the size of his manhood. It hangs heavily between his legs, making my mouth water as well as my pussy.

“Ruso seemed fitting. Do you like it?”

“It could grow on me,” he eventually murmurs.

With his quest for release forgotten, he wordlessly asks me to scoot.

Pouting, I say, “I take back what I said. You truly are a monster. Only a cruel ghoul would expect a girl to sleep withthatdigging in her ass all night.” I thrust my hand at his crotch.

Matteo laughs with a hearty chuckle that cuts through my tiredness like a blade. “About time you learn what everyone else in this town already knows.”

A gasp escapes me when he flips me over before he molds his body to mine. Now I’m certain I’ll skip heaven and go straight to hell. He’s not hard, but he doesn’t need to be for me to feel every impressive inch he has to offer.

“Azra…” he grinds out through clenched teeth when I rub against him, instantly hardening him. “I’m not a good man, and you’re testing every inch of my patience.”

“That isn’t what I want to test.”

His growl rumbles through my body, settling between my legs. “You won’t be saying that when you realize I’m not whatever the fuck it is youthinkyou see in me.”

His voice is low and dangerous, but I’m too intoxicated to heed its warnings.

“Parts of your life remind me of the worst sides of mine. The violence. The power. People show fear when they speak your name.”

His jaw tightens, but he remains quiet, leaving the floor to me.

“But there are other parts too,” I continue. “Parts that remind me of my brothers and how they protect the women and children trapped in the underworld. How they make it safer for people who have no one else to look after them.”

His sigh whistles through my hair, my words hitting somewhere he doesn’t want touched.

“And tonight,” I add, “you stopped us from…”—my swallow is extremely telling—“even though you clearly didn’t want to.”

He scoots closer, and my breath suspends halfway to my lungs. “I didn’t want to stop. Not at all. But don’t fool yourself, Azra. My intentions with you have never been honorable.”

“Then why did you stop?”

“Because if I started, I wouldn’t have stopped. Ever. I would have dragged you down into the abyss with me.”

His words should scare me. They don’t. I see the truth beneath them—the conflict and the restraint. I see a man fighting himself harder than he fights anyone else.

He’s not warning me because he wants me afraid.

He’s warning me because he’s afraid of himself.

“Azra…” Matteo growls out when I roll to face him.

My limited life experiences prevent me from giving him a profound quote that would warp his perception as much as his murky blue eyes warp my smarts. Instead, I use the skills I’ve learned from him. “Shut up and kiss me back, Ruso.”

Before he can argue that I’m not kissing him, so he can’t kiss me back, I weave my fingers through his hair and slide my tongue across his firm mouth. It softens under my touch in three heart-thrashing seconds, and even faster than that, he duels our tongues together.