Coming Home (Morelli Family, #6) Read online

  Sighing heavily, I run my hand across his muscular chest, toying with a button on his dress shirt as I lament, “Adrian is such a tattletale.”

  “You like when he tells on you,” Mateo states, his hand moving through my hair tenderly, sending a shock of pleasure through my veins. Anticipation makes my heart beat faster. His tender caress shifts and he fists my hair in his strong hand, tugging my head back. He leans in to kiss my neck, murmuring against the tender skin, “You like when I remind you who you belong to.”

  He’s not wrong. An answering shiver runs through me, arousal coiling up within as his free hand finds my waist. He tugs me into his lap, giving me a tender squeeze. I spread my legs and adjust myself so I’m straddling him. He still has his hand in my hair, but he lets me have enough leeway to lean in and kiss him. My hand drifts down his chest, sliding down between our bodies to caress him through his pants. He’s already hard and I grin against his perfect lips.

  “Somebody’s happy to see me.”

  He returns the smile, yanking me back by the hair and, in one smooth motion, laying me down on my back and crawling on top of me. “Always.”

  He releases my hair now, his hand moving along the delicate curve of my collar bone. Then his fingers close around my neck, not tightly, but it still makes my heart beat in my throat as his other hand moves between my legs.

  “Don’t move,” he tells me, as his fingers move up under my white, lace panties.

  An impossible command, but as he pushes a finger inside me, I fight the urge to squirm. My breath hitches. Mateo watches me, applying a little more pressure to my throat as he pushes a second finger inside me. A helpless sound slips out of me but as difficult as it is, I keep my body still and meet his gaze. His gorgeous brown eyes watch me with such intensity as his long fingers pump in and out of my body, brushing my clit and stealing the breath right from me.

  “This is my favorite place in the world,” he informs me.

  My heart fills up. He’s not always the most giving man, but I needed an affirmation like that today. The thrill of hearing it boosts my arousal and I struggle to keep still as his fingers move inside me faster.

  “Mateo… please…”

  He shakes his head. “Not yet.”

  “I need—”

  “Not yet,” he repeats, eyes narrowing slightly.

  My speeding heart sinks but I do my best to obey him as his fingers do their best to tempt me not to. His tender assault on my clit intensifies as he pushes me, tries to sabotage my obedience.

  I should just let him. His punishments are delicious.

  My best attempts are starting to fall short. His fingers pump in and out of my body, strategically brushing my clit with every withdrawal; the friction is incredible. It’s killing me to hold back my climax, to hold my body still when I want to arch off the couch and let the release sweep over me.

  Abruptly, he stops.

  I groan as his fingers leave my throat and he sits back.

  “Take your dress off.”

  I can hardly scoot back fast enough, peeling the soft, white sweater dress off my body and tossing it on the floor. Beneath, a white lace bra matches my panties. Mateo smirks, moving close and grabbing me, tugging my breasts against his mouth.

  “Is this new?”

  “Yes.” I gasp as his mouth closes over my barely covered flesh.

  After tonguing my nipple through the fabric and sucking on my breasts until I’m ready to explode, he pulls back. He reaches behind my back and unclasps my bra, peeling the delicate fabric off me. “I approve,” he informs me, before returning to my now bare breasts to shower the other with the same attention. Before his mouth makes contact, he tells me, “I like you in white.”

  It makes my heart contract. It’s not his fault, but with all that’s happened today, white has me thinking bridal. Of the wedding I’ll never get and the babies I’ll never have.

  His mouth is doing good work though, so those miserable thoughts fade as quickly as they emerged. Now he pushes me back on the couch again, and his sensual lips make their way down my core. He tenderly kisses my abdomen and my mind sinks back into the darkness for a moment. In my fantasies he kisses my tummy with the same love, but it’s because our baby is growing there.

  As if he can sense me trying to pull myself out of the sex haze he’s clearly trying to enshroud me in, he meets and holds my gaze as he drags the lacey panties down my smooth legs. My tummy flutters as he flings them on the floor with my dress and bra.

  Now his fingers go to his shirt and he starts to unbutton. “Are my shoulders as sexy as Adrian’s?” he teases.

  Bastard. He knows I love his playful side.

  I bite back a smile, hungrily watching him peel his shirt off. “He is a very detailed tattler.”

  “You should come to the gym one morning, really look your fill,” he continues.

  Since he’s joking about it, I join in, saucily asking, “Of you, or Adrian?”

  He smiles and tosses his shirt on the floor. “Who said you had to choose?”

  Before I have a chance to respond, he grabs my thighs and pulls them apart. He loops one arm around my leg as he lowers himself between my legs, resting his splayed hand on my tummy. He reaches for my hand with the other, entwining his fingers with mine. My heart flutters and my tummy muscles contract as he presses his wonderful mouth against my bare pussy, not entering me yet, just nibbling.

  I bring my free hand down and thread my fingers through his hair. God, I love this man.

  I love his tongue, too. He finally tastes me, licking along the inside of my pussy like he’s afraid he’ll miss a drop of his favorite desert. I’m relieved by the gentle pleasure—sometimes he’s brutal in seeking my pleasure. He finds the right spots quickly, assaults the fuck out of them, and I come so hard I think I might cry. Right now he’s being gentle, taking his time, stroking and tasting me like that’s all he wants out of the experience. Like he has all night.

  We don’t, though.

  This isn’t my night.

  We’re stealing this moment, but I’m feeling ripped off enough that I’ll take it.

  Now he zeroes in and focuses on my clit. All of a sudden the blanket of gentleness is ripped out from under me as his quick, skilled strokes take the place of his tender exploration. I tug on his hair intuitively and he buries his face even deeper in my pussy.

  “Oh, God, Mateo.” I let go of his hair to grab into the edge of the couch cushion, squeezing it as I arch my back. His mouth stays latched onto my pussy, his tongue working my clit. Throwing my head back, I cry out sharply, rolling my hips up. Bless him, he holds onto me as I squirm against his mouth, so even as I feel like he’s driving me crazy, the building pleasure doesn’t stop.

  I’m wild with desperation now, needing the release only he can give me. “Oh, God. Mateo, please. Please.” I’m just murmuring senselessly now; he’s already giving me exactly what I need, just like he always does.

  “Oh, oh, oh... Oh God, Mateo,” I cry out, squeezing his hand and throwing my head back against the couch as my orgasm rips through me.

  He lets up so I don’t die, then he kisses me right on the pussy before traveling up my body, leaving kisses along my belly and breasts. He worships my body with his lips, and I’m so sated and full of affection I could melt.

  When he comes down on top of me on the couch and kisses me hard on the mouth, I wind my arms around his neck and hold him close, gazing up into his eyes.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” he tells me.

  “Your mouth is maybe my favorite part of your body,” I admit.

  Chuckling, he drops a kiss on my forehead and says, “I’ll have to tell my cock; it’s going to be offended.”

  “Hey, I love your cock, too. I have plenty of love for every piece of you,” I assure him, shooting him a slightly mischievous smile.

  “Uh huh.” He drops a few casually tender kisses along my neck. “We’ll see how you feel about my cock when
I’m pounding it inside you later.”

  “Ooh,” I murmur, closing my eyes. “That’s tempting, but I don’t get you tonight, remember?”

  “You do now,” he says simply.

  My eyes open. “I do?”

  He nods and his hand moves back between my legs, cupping me. “I’m going to hold you down and use this sweet pussy until I come inside you.” He punctuates this promise with a kiss in the crook of my neck. “I’ll fuck you hard, just the way you like.” Another kiss, a little higher on my neck. “I’m going to make you come all night long, Mia.”

  My pussy throbs and my heart speeds up with excitement. “I thought my night was supposed to be tomorrow. Are we switching?”

  “Nope.” His hand moves up to caress my hip, then skates lightly across my tummy. “I’m spending tonight and tomorrow with you. I’ll probably stay for the rest of the week.”

  Well, that doesn’t happen very often. “Not that I’m complaining, but why?”

  I figure Adrian must have told him. Now he sighs and takes my hand again, bringing it to his lips and kissing my knuckles. “Because I want to.” His gaze meets mine more attentively as he adds, “And Meg knows she’s supposed to play nice. She didn’t.”

  Stripping her of nights as punishment probably won’t make her nicer, but I don’t say that. He’s smarter than I am by leaps and bounds, so I’m sure he knows that; he just doesn’t care.

  It bothers me that this is even real, let alone something he has to tell me, so I lower my gaze. He can penetrate my soul without looking into my eyes, but I feel like that makes it easier.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get to tell you myself,” he finally says.

  It still makes my stomach ache. I shift, trying to get out from under his weight. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He eases back on the couch, letting me get up. “Are you mad?” he asks, sounding somewhat surprised.

  “Of course not.” I bend to retrieve my bra and panties, draping the dress over my arm. “I’m going to run to the bathroom real quick,” I tell him, still without looking at him.

  “Nope.” He catches my wrist when I go to walk past him. I look back with a sigh, but I can tell by the look on his face I’m not winning this one.

  “I really don’t want to talk about it, Mateo. Can’t we just…?”

  Shaking his head, he tugs me closer until he can pull me into his lap. “This can’t be glossed over. If you’re upset that I’m having another child, I need to understand why so I can fix it.”

  “There’s nothing to fix,” I say, simply. “I’m not upset that you’re…” I stall, not even wanting to utter the words. “I’ll be fine. Nothing to fix. Nothing to worry about. I need to pee.”

  “Mia.” He fixes me with a firm look, his eyes reminding me so his voice doesn’t have to that he doesn’t appreciate having to repeat himself.

  Sighing heavily, I sink against him. “It’s just weird.”

  “Why is it weird?” he asks, patiently.

  I can really only stare at him. How does he not get how this is weird?

  His dark eyebrows rise as he awaits an explanation.

  “Because I love you and I want to be the one having your babies?” I suggest. “Because you spend more time with me than you spend with Meg, but she’s the only one who gets to share that stuff with you? It’s not fair. I’m just as capable of that kind of stuff as she is, but I don’t get any of it and sometimes, like when I’ve had a few margaritas and discovered that you’ve expanded your family and didn’t even tell me, it bothers me.”

  “That’s not true,” he says, mildly. “I don’t leave you out. We do things together with Isabella all the time. Rosalie asks for you nearly as much as she asks for Meg. Has Meg been excluding you?”

  “No. But… it’s not the same. I love Bella, you know that, but I missed the first six years. And I love Rosalie, but she already has a mother.” I hesitate on that note, watching his eyes for anything calculating. Adrian’s words in the car come back, so I add a little more to that. “And of course I’m glad she has Meg, and I love Meg, and I love our whole family. I just got really jealous when I found out. Last time she got pregnant, you and I weren’t together so it wasn’t weird. This time it was weird.”

  He seems to consider my words for a moment, glancing beyond me instead of at me. He’s a little cold, but I’m not worried; he always is when he’s working through a problem. Finally, he warms up a bit and turns his gaze on me. “See, we’re coming at this from completely different angles. I think this is a good thing for us.”

  I blink. “For us?”

  Nodding once, he clarifies, “You and me.”

  I blink again. “You think it’s a good thing for us—you and me—that you got someone else pregnant.”

  He is completely sure of himself as he says, “Yep. Remember when Meg had Rosalie? Two full months of having me all to yourself. Didn’t you like that?”

  “Well, yes, I liked that a lot,” I admit.

  He dips his head in to leave a little kiss on the ball of my shoulder. “So did I. We’ll get that again. Meg will be tired and Rosalie is a hand full already, so you’ll still have a baby to coddle. Hopefully it’s a son this time, then I won’t have to do this again.”

  Instead of making me feel better, that makes me feel worse. “But that’s just it—you had all your kids with everybody else! I wanted one.”

  “And you’ll get one,” he assures me. “I told you, if you want a baby, I’ll give you a baby. I’ll give you one tonight if that’s what you need from me—you’re the one who wants to wait for Meg’s permission.”

  “I do, but I don’t think she’s ever going to give it,” I state.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he assures me. “We don’t need her permission. Personally, I would like to hold off a little longer, but if you have to have a baby right now, all you have to do is say so.”

  That he’s outright offering kills the feeling of urgency. It’s not that I can’t have a baby. He just said I can. So now it’s my call. If I want him inside me right now without a condom, I know he won’t complain.

  But that puts the responsibility on my shoulders, too.

  If I did get pregnant and it made Meg sad, it would be all my fault.

  Plus Mateo just said he would like to wait a little longer, and of course I want to make him happy. When we have a baby, it should be when we both want it, not just because I’m being jealous and impatient.

  Instead of taking him up on that offer and telling him I want a baby right now, I ask, “Can I get a ballpark idea of how much longer we’re talking?”

  “Just a little longer. Let’s see if Meg has a boy this time. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d prefer to have a son with her.”

  I scowl at him to let him know I am definitely taking that the wrong way.

  His arm around my waist tightens and his lips curve up with amusement. “Don’t take it like that,” he says, lightly. He drops another few kisses along my shoulder, heading toward my neck. “It’s not an insult. It’s just that you’re soft and sweet and loving.”

  “All positive characteristics,” I state.

  “In a woman, yes.”

  I sag a little, my eyes rolling back in my head, and his smile widens in response. He loves to annoy me with his sexist bullshit.

  “They’re not good qualities for someone who has to grow up to take over my position. I know you don’t see the dirty sides of things and I keep you in the dark on purpose, but I can’t have a soft son. A second son, sure. But not my heir. What if your traits are stronger in him than mine? I don’t want to twist him up. I need him to have the right kinds of instincts naturally. I have them. Meg has them. You don’t.”

  “I have good instincts. No one ever gives my instincts any credit, but I’ve survived a lot of shit,” I tell him, eyebrows rising as I prepare to launch my own defense.

  “I’m not disagreeing. But there are certain things about you that I don’t completely unde
rstand, and just in case you were born this way and not created, I don’t want to take any chances. If you and I had a son and he had your survival instincts, he’d be completely fucked. What if he’s as trusting as you are?”

  “Well, as suspicious as you are, I think maybe he’d be better off taking a little from each of us and meeting somewhere in the middle. People are better than you give them credit for.”

  He points his finger at me like I just proved why I’m not capable of giving him a competent son. “See? No.”

  I fold my arms over my chest and give him a good glare, but now his focus has moved to my cleavage, which I’ve just unintentionally pushed together to make even more appealing. He has some nerve looking at my breasts that way when he just told me I’m not good enough to have his heir.

  Or, too good, I suppose.

  “I survived without you for 18 years, Mateo Morelli. I never once got murdered. I never gave money to a Nigerian prince.”

  He forces his eyes from my breasts and meets my gaze, but there’s a cocky gleam that makes me immediately wary. “Never got taken advantage of by a much slyer opponent? Never continued to believe in that same person who took advantage of you again and again, even after he continued to show you who he was?”

  “You can’t use yourself against me,” I state. “That’s the biggest dick move in the world.”

  “Okay. Mark—you spent countless hours with him at the bakery, and until he had a gun pressed to your side and a Castellanos flunky right across from him, you had no suspicions about him. Vince? You would’ve insisted he wasn’t dangerous up until your last fucking breath when he finally flew far enough off the handle and got violent with you. I’m not trying to be mean, Mia,” he says, prying my arms apart so he can take my hand. “I love you exactly like this. It’s sweet, and it’s fine, because you’re safe with me, but can you imagine me with those traits? You wouldn’t have to, because I’d have died long before we could’ve ever met. We’ll have a daughter. After Meg gives me a son, you and I will have a little girl. She can be soft and sweet like you—I’d love that.”

  I soften a smidge. I like hearing he’d love my traits in our hypothetical daughter.