Chapter Six

Aurelia

Iglare at Mattia as we drive back to his place, still fuming over the fact that he bought the dress I was admiring in the shop. The price alone makes me sick to my stomach. Eleven thousand dollars?

"That's insane. You're insane. Oh my god. I'm married to a crazy man," I mumble, unable to help myself.

Mattia chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he places his hand on my thigh. "Aurelia, little mouse. Do you have any concept of how much money you have right now?"

"Yes," I snap, my temper flaring. "Two thousand, nine hundred eighty-six dollars and forty-three cents." At least, that's what was in my account before Brio invaded my world and turned everything upside down.

"No, topolina. Try adding several zeroes to that."

My heart skips a beat, and I can't help but stare at him incredulously. "I don't have that much money, Mattia."

"You do now," he smirks, his grip on my thigh tightening just enough to make me squirm. "We're married, Aurelia. My money is yours. And I have more than enough of it."

"That's…you…I…" My mind races as I gape at him, my vision blurring slightly. I feel like I might pass out, but instead, I blink back the dizziness and focus on breathing. Yes, breathe. I can do that.

The car rolls to a stop at a red light, and Mattia glances over at me.

"While I'm making your head spin, I have something else to tell you," he says, giving my thigh another gentle squeeze.

I wave my hand weakly, motioning for him to continue. Might as well go for broke, right? Not that I'll be broke anytime soon, apparently.

Several zeroes? Good grief!

"We're going to dinner at Rafe's tomorrow," he informs me, his voice steady and matter-of-fact. "Gabriel and Luca will be there, too."

The news hits me like a ton of bricks. I struggle to process it, my mind reeling. I'm meeting my brothers tomorrow.

The thought both excites and terrifies me. I've wanted to meet them for so long. But I never dreamed it'd be like this—with the threat of Brio hanging over my head like a sword. I haven't had time to figure out a way out of this mess. All I know is that I can't—I won't—follow through on what he wants. One way or another, I have to find a way to save my mom and myself without my brothers ever finding out the truth. If they do, they'll never trust me. No one will.

"A-are you sure that's a good idea?" My voice wavers with uncertainty.

Mattia's gray eyes pierce through me as if he can read every conflicted thought in my head. "Yes," he replies firmly. "But there's a catch."

I roll my head to the side, eyeing him cautiously. Even without the words, I know what he's getting at. The truth is written all over his face, etched into the lines around his mouth and the furrow between his brows.

"You haven't told them who I am," I whisper, a twinge of sadness tugging at my heart. I'll meet them as my brothers, but they'll meet me as a stranger.

It's my own doing, I remind myself. I have only myself to blame.

That truth doesn't make it hurt any less.

"We can call them right now and tell them who you are, topolina," Mattia says, his voice gentle. "If that's what you want, I'll do it."

Yes, I want to cry. That is what I want. But what happens then? Do I lose Mattia? Does my whole world change again? Does the whole damn rope fray and leave me dangling over the edge? Am I one step closer to losing everything?

"Don't," I whisper, glancing away from him. "I don't want them to know."

He sighs softly.

We drive in silence for a few moments before I feel compelled to speak again. "Why would you tell them when you don't even trust me, Mattia?"

"You know why, little mouse."

He's right. I do know. He'd risk it because he cares about me. I think…I think he may even be falling in love with me. But he doesn't know me.

How can he when I'm a liar?

Fifteen minutes later, the front door slams shut behind us, the echo of it bouncing off the walls like a gunshot. Frenzied desperation consumes me as I push Mattia up against it, my lips crashing into his with an intensity that leaves us both breathless.

My mind is a battleground, and I'm desperately losing the war. I need him to silence the chaos and make me forget.

"Topolina," he murmurs, desire and surprise mingling in his voice as he spins us, capturing my hands to pin them to the cool wood. The unrestrained need in his tone sends shivers down my spine. He never hides how much he wants me. I love that. His eyes flicker across my face. "What do you need, cara mia? Tell me, and it's yours."

I can't help but whimper as I press myself against him. "I want you to fuck me until I forget everything but your name, Mattia."

"Are you sure?" His eyes bore into mine, searching for any hint of hesitation. But all I feel is the overwhelming need to be closer to him, to surrender myself completely to this fierce, commanding man.

"Please, Mattia," I beg, digging my fingers into his shoulders. "I need you. Please."

A growl rumbles from his throat as he swoops down, wrapping his arms around my waist to hoist me into the air. My legs instinctively wrap around his hips, our bodies pressed so tightly together that I feel every heartbeat, every ragged breath.

His lips crash against mine in a fierce kiss.

I cry out in relief, sobbing against his lips.

As he carries me to the bedroom, his mouth never leaves mine. Our tongues dance in perfect harmony, exploring and tasting one another, driving each other higher.

"Mattia," I gasp, raking my nails down his back as he carries me over the threshold into the bedroom. "I'm scared."

"Of what, little mouse?" He sets me down on the edge of the bed, his gray eyes flickering with concern.

Of losing you.

"I don't know," I lie.

But this dangerous, complicated man does. Somehow, he knows.

"Listen to me, Aurelia," he says firmly, gripping my face as he forces me to look into his eyes. "No matter what happens, we're in this together."

"Promise me," I whisper, the weight of those words settling heavily on my chest.

"You and me for life, little mouse. Ti prometto," he vows, sealing his promise with a searing kiss that leaves me trembling with need.

"Mattia," I moan, arching my back as his lips trace a scorching path down my neck. "Please."

"Tell me what you want, Aurelia," he growls, his voice rough with command.

"Fuck me," I plead, too desperate to care how I sound. "Make everything outside of this room disappear."

His eyes darken, a carnal storm brewing in their depths. Without another word, his hands move to the hem of my dress, pulling it over my head in one swift, unapologetic motion.

The cool air hits my skin, causing goosebumps to rise all over my body. I moan in response.

Mattia doesn't waste a moment. He unclasps my bra, my breasts spilling from the cups into his waiting hands. His touch is firm and possessive, a contrast to the worried look he had just moments ago.

"I'll make you forget everything but me, cara mia," he murmurs as he pushes me back onto the bed. His lips find my skin again, kissing, biting, marking me as his with every bruise painted by his mouth. His teeth graze the sensitive flesh along my collarbone, making me gasp.

"You're mine," he murmurs against my skin, each word punctuated by another possessive bite that sends sparks of pain and pleasure radiating through my body. "Say it."

"I'm yours," I breathe, lost in the sensation, in him.

His touch ignites fire wherever it lands—my skin burning under his fingertips as if scorched by the very trails he traces.

"You're so beautiful like this," he rasps. "Spread out for me—open and vulnerable."

When his mouth closes over my breast, taking a taut nipple between his teeth and tugging, I cry out in ecstasy. I never knew the fine line between pleasure and pain could feel so damn good.

"You're mine," he murmurs against my skin again, his voice a sinful promise. The rasp of stubble along my belly sends shivers through my veins as he moves lower.

I am his. God help me, but it's true.

"I'm going to break you, little mouse, just so I can remake you." His gaze pins me beneath him—not just physically, but everything I am is caught by him, unable to break free.

"Oh, God."

His rough fingers trail up the inside of my thigh, coaxing a sob of ecstasy from my lips. He's merciless as he sets to work, exploring and teasing until I'm pleading for him to touch me where I need him most.

"Is this what you want?" His voice is thick with lust as he circles ever closer to where I ache for him.

"Yes," I breathe. "Please."

His hands, relentless and unyielding, spread my thighs wider. His fingers brush over the wet silk of my panties. I buck upward, trying to get closer to his touch, to him.

The rough pad of his thumb presses against the fabric, finding my clit. A jolt of pleasure shoots through me, and my back arches off the bed.

"Mattia," I gasp, unable to control the tremor in my voice.

"Look at me," he commands, and I force my eyes open. There's something terrifyingly beautiful about the way he looks at me—like I'm both prey and goddess, meant to be devoured and worshipped all at once.

He hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric of my panties, pulling them aside with a slow, deliberate motion that makes my heart pound against my ribcage.

And then one finger slips between my folds. He groans deep in his throat. "So wet for me," he growls, his voice rough with want as he begins to play with me.

His movements are both tender and demanding as he circles my clit slowly, making me writhe under him. Each touch is a promise of more—more pleasure, more pain, more everything.

I am lost in him—in the power of his body over mine and the way he watches me—when he suddenly withdraws his fingers only to replace them with his tongue. The first touch of his lips against my pussy sends a shockwave through me.

"Mattia!"

He's relentless, licking and sucking in a way that drives all coherent thought from my mind.

The world narrows down to the sensation of his mouth on me and the intense blasts of pleasure ripping through me.

His eyes burn into mine with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt. "You're going to come for me," he whispers fiercely. "Now."

His command unravels me completely. My climax crashes over me in waves so intense they seem endless, pulling scream after scream from my lips until I'm nothing but sensation floating in darkness.

He doesn't let me catch my breath.

With a fluid, predatory motion, he flips me onto my stomach. The sheets are cool against my heated skin, a stark contrast to the heat of his body above me. His hands splay across the small of my back, pressing gently but firmly, pinning me.

My heart pounds, the anticipation building.

His breath is hot and heavy against the nape of my neck as he leans down over me. "I'm not nearly done with you yet, cara mia."

His lips trail fiery kisses along my spine, igniting sparks in my veins. By the time he reaches the curve of my lower back, he's got one hand between my cheeks, playing with my back entrance. I shouldn't love it, but I do. God help me, I love everything this man is doing to me.

Then his tongue returns to where I need him most. His technique changes seamlessly—now slow and languishing, now quick and purposeful. He eats me as if he has all day, worshipping me with his lips and tongue.

Before long, he's exploring my asshole, too. He spreads me open with a gentle firmness, exposing every part of me to his unyielding mouth.

The pleasure builds—slowly at first, then all at once—and I find myself pushing back against him, pleading for more.

His grip tightens around my thighs as he holds me still for his carnal assault. It's relentless and focused. He devours me with a precision that pushes me further into the abyss of ecstasy.

"Let go for me, topolina," he commands, his voice rough with desire.

My body obeys before my mind can comprehend his words—a tidal wave roaring through me once more. My voice breaks on a cry, high and keening, as sensations overwhelm me again.

This time, the dark isn't quiet but filled with the echo of his name.

His eyes lock with mine as I shudder through the aftershocks, his gaze burning with primal satisfaction. The air crackles with something fierce and unspoken, a wild promise hanging heavy as he rises with the grace of a predator.

He watches me like a silent guardian of my unraveling as he methodically removes each piece of his expensive clothing, revealing the hard, sculpted lines of the body molded by power and discipline. When he's finally bare before me, my breath catches at the sheer force of his presence. He's beautiful and intimidating, a masterpiece carved from darkness and light.

Without a word, he returns to me, flipping me onto my back. His hands frame my face with undeniable ownership. "Look at me."

I'm helpless to do anything but obey. There's an intensity to his voice that feels like it's peeling back every layer of my soul.

"I'm claiming what belongs to me now, Aurelia," he says. "And I'm giving you what belongs to you. Do you understand?"

"I…" I shake my head.

"You asked if I'd belong to you, and I said yes. I'll belong only to you, Aurelia." He brushes his thumb along my bottom lip. "No one else has ever had this part of me. It's all yours, little mouse."

My core clenches, a blast of heat ripping through me. "Mattia," I whisper, stunned.

"Every inch of you is mine to possess. And I'm yours in the same way." He positions himself at my entrance, and I feel the hot head of him pressing insistently.

My heart pounds against my ribcage, anticipation coiling tight in my belly. With one hard thrust, he's inside me, tearing through my barrier. The stretch is sudden and sharp but quickly overshadowed by a surge of pleasure so intense it borders on pain.

I shout his name, writhing on the edge of heaven.

His hand finds its way around my throat, not squeezing, but firm enough to anchor me in the here and now—beneath him, filled by him.

Emotion flares in his eyes—hot, wild, blazing like the sun. There's so damn much of it.

"Mine," he growls. "Do you hear me, cara mia? You're mine."

"Yes!" I sob.

He begins to move, setting a punishing rhythm that robs me of anything but the sensation of him inside me. His thrusts are relentless, driving deeper with each stroke.

He feels so good. So damn good. But it's not enough. I want more. I need more.

"Mattia," I sob, my hands clenching around his upper arms. "I need…I need…" I don't know what I need!

"Fight me," he growls.

"W-what?"

"Fight me, Aurelia." His hand tightens on my throat. "You wanted to forget everything outside this room? Work for it, little mouse. Fight me and make it hurt." The intensity in his steely eyes ignites a fire within me—one that burns with a mix of fear and exhilaration.

I meet his challenge, my nails digging into the broad expanse of his back, leaving trails of raw passion and wild desperation.

He shudders above me, a low chuckle vibrating from his chest, sounding both pained and pleased. "That's it, amore mio," he encourages as he increases the force of his thrusts, each one sending electric shocks through every nerve in my body.

And this right here? This is what I needed. This is heaven. Nothing else exists but him and the way he moves inside me.

His fingers tighten around my throat, a silent reminder of his control—control he's both granting me the power to contest and commanding me to acknowledge. It's a maddening duality that pushes me further into the abyss.

I reach up, my fingers tangling in his short hair, pulling hard enough to elicit a deep, approving rumble from his chest. He doesn't slow down. If anything, his movements become harsher, each thrust pushing me further into that place where ecstasy and pain blend in the perfect storm.

Mattia leans down to my ear, his hot breath sending shivers racing through me. "You like this?" he murmurs, biting the lobe gently before sucking it into his mouth. "Is this what you wanted, cara mia?"

"Yes," I gasp, overwhelmed by the intensity of him.

"You're so beautiful when you fight," he continues as he moves within me. "So fierce and fiery." His hands roam over my body possessively, exploring every curve as if committing them to memory. His touch is both tender and punishing—a contradiction only he could embody so perfectly.

He lifts me higher to grant him deeper access.

I arch against him, driven by an instinctive need to match his ferocity.

I bite his shoulder hard enough to make him grunt in response—a sound that vibrates through my entire body.

"Harder," I gasp, lost in the storm he's stirred to life inside me.

He doesn't falter or hesitate. "You want it harder? Then take it," he growls. There's an unmistakable thrill in his tone that tells me how much he relishes this—the push and pull of our bodies, the pleasure of pain. The fight.

I grip him tighter with my legs, pulling him into me.

He captures my lips with his, swallowing my moans with a kiss so deep it feels as though he's trying to consume my very being. It's an invasion that is at once tender and overwhelming.

When he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against mine, I see something flicker in the depths of those gray eyes—a vulnerability that he usually shields from the world but lays bare for me.

"Topolina," he breathes—a confession wrapped in a single word. And in this moment, beneath this man who commands worlds but worships at my altar, I know I'm irrevocably lost to him. And perhaps more terrifyingly, he's just as lost to me.

Our movements become frantic as we both chase our climax.

I crack first, falling into a million jagged pieces as he fucks me straight out of this dimension. Waves of pleasure crash over me in relentless strikes.

His thrusts turn erratic as my body clenches around him. When he finally breaks, he falls into his climax with a powerful groan. I feel him releasing deep inside me, and I come apart again, moaning his name.

He collapses on top of me for several long moments before propping himself on his elbows to look at me. His eyes blaze with something more than lust—something dangerously close to adoration. He brushes a sweaty strand of hair from my face, his touch gentle and reverent.

"We're just beginning," he promises in a tone so intense it's both seductive and terrifying.

"Mattia," I whisper, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes as the weight of our situation bears down on me. "Promise me you won't let me break us."

His gaze is unwavering as he pulls me close, his cock still buried inside me. "I swear, Aurelia," he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. "I'll burn the fucking world to ash myself before I let that happen. Ti prometto."

I cling to his promise like a lifeline, praying that I'm able to protect the fragile bond growing between us. Praying the truth doesn't shatter it entirely.