Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

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"Matteo, that is simply not possible. We cannot plan a wedding she deserves in the time you are proposing. Especially if she wants to have it at the Museum of Art. A custom wedding dress will take weeks. I cannot believe you." Elizabeth sighs.

"The reason I picked this designer is not simply because she's local and makes beautiful clothes for plus size women. She promised she can deliver a dress in eight days. I called the museum, and after a sizable donation, we have a date twelve days from now. I'm not in love with it happening on a Monday and in the afternoon at that. But I checked the weather forecast, and it will be a warmer day. So in the end, it's better."

A custom dress made just for me? We're having the wedding at the Dallas Museum of Art. Oh my god, that's amazing. But all the information flying at me feels overwhelming. Twelve days, we're getting married in only twelve days from now in a big society wedding? My knees go weak, and I sag into the overstuffed chair.

"Amy, my dear, are you all right?" Elizabeth is concerned as she rubs Layla's back to soothe her as Layla reaches for me.

I shake my head. "I'm fine."

I'm picked up and put into Matteo's lap. How do I forget how strong he is? "Talk to me. What's the matter?"

"I love the idea of getting married at the museum, but I'm not sure about all the people," I admit. I'm worried I'm being a pain for being so anxious.

"All what people?"

"You know, all the people your family will want to invite." I gesture to Elizabeth. "I wouldn't want anyone to worry about offending people if they don't get an invitation."

Matteo catches my chin in a firm but gentle grip and brings my face up to his. "This wedding is about you and me. My family won't have any input on our guest list. I'm aware I have to invite my father. Never mind I talk to him twice a year, for a ten-minute conversation consisting of nothing more interesting than the weather and work. My nephew, I'm looking forward to. Other than that, there are maybe three former colleagues I would like added to my guest list. The rest will be up to you."

"Oh." I don't understand why I'm disappointed when I should be happy.

"What's wrong?"

I want to lie, but he knows me too well to even try. "I guess I didn't think I'd be disappointed about…"

"You want a big white wedding."

I'm too embarrassed to say the word, only able to nod.

"I know. I remember you saying you were disappointed with your courthouse wedding. We can have a big wedding without having three hundred guests. It's one of the reasons why we're having it at the museum. We'll fill it with an obnoxious amount of flowers. There is a call out for a string quartet for the ceremony. We can keep them the whole way through or do something else." He assures me.

"How do you know me so well?"

He chuckles as he presses his lips to my cheek. "Because I love you."

"You're planning a wedding better than I ever thought I would have."

"Since it's going to be your last one, it has to be amazing. And there's a lot more to pin down. We have to work with the event coordinator for the museum, but we're also going to have our own planner. They're both going to be here this evening. Once we tell them what we want, we leave it to them to make it happen."

"Have I told you thank you for loving me today?" I sigh and wish like hell Elizabeth wasn't standing nearby with Layla in her arms.

"Not yet, and you better not. I need to get to work, and you need to get your dress." Matteo is very aware of what I'm thinking.

I kiss his cheek before sliding off his lap. "I'll tell you later tonight."

"I'm counting on it. Doris, please take Layla into her room. She's going to get upset when we all leave at once." Matteo's hand is at my back.

Amy

Once we're in the car. I remember. "We need to stop at my bank so I can deposit a check from Rafe."

Elizabeth's eyes are wide. "Rafe gave you a check?"

"Yes, for one of my paintings. When he asked about buying it, he said one hundred. I thought he meant one hundred dollars. Some guy came to pick up the painting today to ensure it was properly wrapped for transportation. He brought a check for a hundred thousand dollars." I'm still light-headed from all the compliments he gave me while he oversaw the packing of the canvas.

"Thank goodness. You had me worried about Rafe. He can get a little too involved in…things."

I think of the money Rafe offered for me to walk away and chuckle. I'm not mad at him. He only did it because he cared about Matteo. In the end, his coming to me is how I found out Matteo loves me, so it was a good thing.

We're at a small boutique that proclaims it specializes in dressing plus-size women. There's a warning that it will be closed from the beginning of our appointment for three hours.

"She's closing for me?" I gasp.

Elizabeth chuckles. "No, my dear, she's closing for herself. Once it gets out that she made your wedding dress—she's going to be booked solid for brides who will come from all over Texas."

I blush as I open the door.

I'm only one step inside when a woman appears. Relief hits me that she's also plus-size.

"Hi, I'm Rebecca. You must be Amy." She offers her hand.

Hoping my hand isn't as sweaty as I think it is. I take it. "Yes, and this is Elizabeth. Thank you for making my dress."

Elizabeth shakes her hand and looks down at her with concern. "You will really be able to make a dress for her in only eight days?"

"I understand your concern, but I can do it. Your son is paying me enough to cover the expense of an employee going full time instead of only working weekends in order for me to focus on the dress."

Over the next hour, we go over the things I don't like in dresses because it's easier than what I do like. I had to scan a few bridal magazines before things got clearer in my head. Since I hadn't really thought of wedding dresses in a while.

She starts with a sketch and scans it into her computer. It looks like me, using my measurements, which she took after we got the introductions out of the way.

"Oh, I thought the skirt would be different." I'm disappointed.

"That's why I went with this program. I actually started as a seamstress and made a lot of clothes for women. They would come in with pictures of things they wanted, but once I made it—it didn't look good on them like it did on the model. Sometimes, simple changes like fabric or even moving a hem make a huge difference. This has saved me so much time and clients money. Since I don't have time to get this wrong or do more than a simple alternation, this is going to make it possible to get the dress finished and exactly what you want."

A few more changes, and I finally love how I look in a dress on the screen.

I'm then told we're also here to shop for a dress for an event at city hall. The Castillo Company finished an update there, and it will be the reopening ceremony.

It will be my introduction to the Dallas social scene. Elizabeth will be introducing me as Matteo's fiancé.

"Matteo will be annoyed with me. I wanted to warn you, though, so you'll be prepared."

Under Elizabeth's supervision, I tried on five dresses and three I liked and agreed to. I also found more clothes that I can't put back. Rebecca made most of the clothes, and the ones that aren't are well made and for rare big labels.

Once I've found what I like, Elizabeth informs me that I'm also here for a full wardrobe. Thankfully, Rebecca has a huge selection of clothes she selected based on what fits my petite body shape and flatters me the best. I'm overwhelmed by it all but also so excited by the idea of all the pretty clothes.

I'm not allowed to know the cost of everything as Rebecca informed me that Matteo has already given her his credit card and knew I would freak out over the cost.

As I'm in the dressing room trying on the beautiful dresses, all I can see is my long braid in the way. I decide it's time and tell Elizabeth I'm ready to cut my hair.

Her eyes go wide, and after I assure her twice I'm positive it's what I want, we arrive at the salon she goes to. While her normal stylist isn't available, the owner is. I'm grateful for her patience as we discuss how different lengths will look.

I exhale and tell her to take me to an inch below my shoulders. Based on the stylist's advice, it won't be a huge change. It will still look long, but losing the weight of more than four inches will allow me to do more with it.

Once she's done, I love it.

Elizabeth does, too, but warns me that Matteo might find it hard to love.

I think we're done for the day, but when she finds out that I don't have any makeup, we go to a department store makeup counter. The woman shows me how to use the dozens of products she presents me with. I was shocked by how many products Elizabeth admitted to wearing, considering how light her makeup appeared to me.

It took a few tries before I was finally comfortable with how to use everything. When I'm done, I wonder who the woman in the mirror is and if Matteo will like her.

Amy

I'm on a huge high the next day as I pack for us to leave after my therapy appointment today. I wish I could skip the appointment, but Matteo won't allow it.

Doris is almost as excited as I am to go to Chicago. She admitted she would love to go to the museum with us or be in charge of Layla and take her to a few places to explore on our own. She visited Chicago once, more than a decade ago, and had wanted to return ever since.

I was glad she was willing to give us private time. We are going to be in two different suites next to each other. Matteo was insistent we needed our own rooms. When I said a suite was us in different rooms, he shook his head as he said he didn't want to worry Doris would hear me begging him to fuck me. I didn't argue after that.

Elizabeth wasn't wrong—Matteo spanked me for the haircut last night. Then he sighed and apologized, saying it was my hair and my choice of what I did with it. It was just such a huge change, and he loved my long hair so much.

I apologized because I did know he loved my hair. He's often brushed it out and braided it for me. It was another way of him taking care of me that we both loved. I regret it for a hard five minutes, but it's still long enough to be braided, and I promised I won't cut it any shorter.

If what happened afterward was make-up sex, then I'm going to figure out how we can fight again because it was so fucking hot.

Matteo's phone goes off with an alert. He checks it. His thumbs move across the screen rapidly as he replies. "Okay, the real estate agent Mom is recommended is here. Doris, could you please take Layla either into the sitting room or her room?"

"Wait, the agent is coming here? How come you didn't tell me? Should I change?" I look down at the leggings and plain long-sleeve black shirt I'm wearing stained with paint. These are just comfy clothes for around the condo.

He's trying to hand off Layla, who is upset and clinging to him. Sighing, he cuddles her close again. "Never mind, Doris. I'll keep her. If you wouldn't mind standing by, though, I'd appreciate it."

Catching me behind my neck, he brings his mouth down on mine. "You're always gorgeous. You don't need to change. This is just a quick meeting she asked for us to have so we could meet to discuss what we're looking for. I thought the email was more than enough." His shoulders lift. "But she didn't. Since mom is insistent she's an excellent agent and can find us what we want, I agreed."

We spent an hour last night putting an email together for everything we wanted in preparation for tomorrow. I couldn't believe half the requirements and budget or lack of a budget Matteo insisted on. Rich, rich.

The doorbell goes off, and Doris opens it. A slim, tall man with light blond hair introduces himself as Tim. He's good-looking, and he knows it. I wouldn't be surprised if he uses it to his advantage. His teeth are freakishly white and oddly perfect as he smiles down at me, one step too close for my comfort. I have to pull my hand out of his when he doesn't end the handshake on his own.

Something shifts in the air, pulling my eyes to Matteo.

"Where is Janet? She's the one who asked for this meeting." Matteo is frowning down at Tim. The guy is tall but at least four inches shorter than Matteo. Matteo is also wider and probably outweighs him by twenty pounds of muscle. I've never thought of Matteo as intimidating—I am now.

Tim's smile falls ever so slightly. "Janet sends her apologies. The client she's been working with decided to put in an offer. They're working the deal out right now."

I don't understand why Matteo's jaw is working. Ignoring the hand Tim offers, he nods. "Fine. Make this quick. Sit. Doris, take Layla, please."

This time, Layla doesn't fight. "I'll be in the nursery, sir."

"Yes, of course." Tim spits out the words as he sits down at the dining table, opens his briefcase, and takes out a large legal notepad and pen. "Janet had a few questions."

Tension is pounding like a drum at my temples over the next fifteen minutes. It isn't until the fourth time it happens that I finally understand. Every time Tim smiles at me and attempts to speak to me, Matteo cuts him off or answers the question himself. Finally, Tim gets it and basically ignores me to speak directly to Matteo. It doesn't help—Matteo still verges on rude to the man.

The moment the door closes behind Tim, Matteo curtly tells me he'll be in his office. Before I can say a word, he's gone. Is he mad at me? What did I do wrong? Fear sends me after him.

He's stalking his office, his hand running through his hair. Shaking his head, "Leave, Amy."

It's a punch to the chest, leaving me gasping for air. "I'm sorry."

Gold goes wide down at me. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It's me. This is all me. And I don't—" A hand runs over his beautiful face. "I apologize, but you need to leave. Until I get myself under control…"

I'm more confused than I was before. "I don't understand."

"The fucker was touching you, smiling at you, fucking flirting with you. You were smiling back at him. You let him touch you. I wanted to rearrange his face and mess up that expensive smile?—"

What? "I was only being polite. Matteo, I wasn't encouraging him—I swear it."

Turning away from me, he nods. "I know that. It's why I don't trust myself around you. Nothing I'm feeling makes sense to me. I don't recognize any of this. It doesn't feel safe to be around you when I feel so fucking violent. If I hurt you or say something wrong, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself."

Matteo is jealous over me ? I'm in paint-splattered clothing I wouldn't go to the store in. Yet a man who clearly didn't want me smiled at me and shook my hand two seconds longer than what was polite has Matteo about to explode with jealousy? Something is definitely wrong with me for the thrill shooting through me.

I'll talk to Hillary about it in therapy later, right now, all I know is Matteo is too far away from me. I can't stand how miserable he is. Everything in me screams to touch him, to soothe him. One step forward sends him one step back. Shaking his head, he's as far away from me as he can get.

"I'm begging you, mi amor . Please let me get myself under control."

Is it him calling me his love? Is it how much he wants to protect me from everything in this world he thinks could hurt me? Any other man and all the beatings that Daniel put me through would have me running, screaming from the room. I'm not running. I refuse to run and never away from him.

The hand I raise to touch him never makes it. In the blink of an eye, he has my wrist in a rough grip. The roughness doesn't scare me—it thrills me. "I'm sorry?—"

"I told you not to apologize to me." Is snarled down at me.

Something is very wrong with me for how wet I am. "I'm sorry that I cannot leave you. You need me. Talk to me, please. Why exactly are you upset? Was it him smiling at me or me smiling back? How can I make it so you never feel this way again?"

Squeezing his eyes closed, "You're mine. You belong to me. No one is taking you from me." He grits out. "I could never lose you. Promise me."

"I promise. No other man will touch me. I will never smile at another man the way I smile at you. I belong to only you. The same way you belong to me." Gold glitters down at me as air leaves him in a rush. "No other man will ever touch me again. No other man will have my heart the way you do."

His throat works. "It isn't helping. I still feel violent, like I want to break something."

The next session is going to be a long one for the way my skin becomes hot and too damn tight. "Give it to me."

"Give it to you?"

"Your violence. I love it when you lose control." I admit. "The idea that I could bring you to the brink and loss of control—I'm sorry if it's not right, but I love it. He made me feel ugly and unwanted. You're making me feel like I'm a sexy goddess or something."

"You are a goddess. I pray to you every fucking night that I never lose you, your love, your touch. If I lost you, I would lose the air I breathe."

This man, how could he think I could walk away from him? "Give it to me. Show me."

I'm thrust away from him before he bends me over his desk. He tears down my pants with my panties.

"Fucking hell, you're soaking wet," is filled with wonder.

I don't have time to be ashamed. His hand coming down on one ass cheek is harder than he has ever spanked me before. And it goes straight to my clit. "You will never let another man touch you."

"Never." I almost shout.

Another smack to my other cheek. "Promise me."

"I promise." I fight not to stiffen, preparing for him to go back to smacking my other cheek, but he doesn't. His heavy hand falls on my swollen, soaking-wet pussy lips. Oh my fucking god—it's electricity striking my clit. I wonder if I managed to come.

"You will never smile at a man like you did today."

"I promise I will never smile at another man." Sparks fly under my eyelids when he goes back to my heated ass. Holy shit. Another round of smacks to my other cheek and pussy has my legs going out from under me and begging him to fuck me.

He enters me like a man possessed hard, fast, rough. "This is my pussy. Every damn inch of you is mine."

"Only you." I nearly sob. Between the way my ass and pussy are on fire and his hot body almost entirely on me, I'm wondering if I'm going to climax without him moving.

"No other man will be inside your tight pussy. Mine ." He growls.

"Yours," I promise him.

The leash he always keeps on himself is gone. He gives me the violence within him, and I glory in it. Hard, fast, rough, and oh my fucking god. His hands are punishing on my hips. That I inspire it in him thrills me in a way it shouldn't.

"That's it, such a good girl you are. greedy for my cock. Fuck. The way your tight pussy grips me is like a vise. Your pussy milking my every drop of come for me to breed you. I can't wait until you are pregnant, your breasts swelling—and your belly big with our love. Everyone will see you and know you are mine. That this pussy is mine alone."

"Yours. All of me belongs to you." From the first day.

"Every damn inch of you." Is blasted like a tattoo into the skin of my neck seconds before his teeth mark me. "From your cute fucking toes to the top of your hair that looks so pretty wrapped around my hand. Will they know from the mark what a dirty girl you can be for me? Will they be able to tell you begged me to fuck you, use you for my pleasure? Do you want them to know? Hm? Do you want them to know you love your ass spanked? That your pussy gushed like a water hose when I slapped your mons. They see a good girl in public, but I know you're so very naughty that you beg for my come and my cock."

His words are driving me crazy. I'm frantic, close, so fucking close—only I can't reach it. "Harder. Please, Matteo. Fuck me harder."

"There she is, my greedy girl. I love it when you beg for what you need. I'll give it to you." Those hands at my hips lift me up, and oh my fucking god, right fucking there .

Harder, so fucking hard the pain adds to the pleasure. There are no more words only the pounding of our bodies loud around us. It's rough, dirty, and so mind-blowing. And I fight not to surrender to the black all around me as he fills me with his wet heat. My body is still trembling from the aftershocks of my orgasm when he pulls out of me.

No , I want to shout. The part I love the most after my orgasm is when he stays inside me—so I can feel his heart beating inside me—in time with my own.

Without him holding me up, I sink to my knees at his feet. His eyes are closed, his head back as he fights for air. God, even limp, I can't believe how thick and long his cock is. The sight of his cock gleaming with our shared come fills me with longing and sends my tongue out to taste him, us.

A hand is in my hair, gold glittering wide in surprise. I hold the gold as I lick the head of his cock. Hmm…it's salty and oddly sweet to me. This is us. I want more. I don't attempt to take his cock in my mouth. I clean every inch of him—the taste of us is sweet to me. This man is mine. Dirty, rough, and tender, I wouldn't have it any other way.