Page 32 of Dare To Free Us
My thighs were grinding together under my dress. I was so wet and hot I felt desperate enough to start wishing Matteo would move his hands lower, no matter who might see. Matteo pressed his hard length against my butt doing a little grind with his hips, whispering about how hard he would drive it inside me. I was now panting with anticipation.
He paused his torture, pressing his lips to the tender spot behind my ear. “Ready to go home yet?” Matteo asked, in a far too pleased voice.
Dammit. Sorry Mom and Dad.“Yes, take me home.”
Matteo took my hand and we left the gala without speaking to anyone. I straddled Matteo’s lap all the way home, wetting the front of his pants with my arousal. Matteo didn’t try to push it past kissing and touching while in the car. He knew how shy I was and respected the fact I wasn’t comfortable crossing that line with our driver in the vehicle.
When we did get home and we made it up stairs to our bedroom, like the generous lover he always was, Matteo did everything to me he’d described, and more.
* * *
I rushedto the front door, wondering why Maria bothered to knock and wait. A week had gone by in a flash and could not contain my excitement to see her. Most mother’s— or maybe just mine— usually knocked as a courtesy before letting themselves in. But Maria was always very concerned about being respectful of boundaries and our privacy. I tended to think it bubbled from a place where she never wanted to be the cause of an argument between Matteo and I.
Swinging the door wide I moved into her open arms. Maria was always up for hugs. “It’s so good to see you,” I said, squeezing her tight.
“And you my darling.” Her arms held me for a moment and I let the hug linger. She’d gone so long thinking she’d never be a part of son’s life, it seemed stupid to deny her extra long hugs.
Pulling back I took her arm to escort her in. Maria’s stilettos clicked on the marble floor alongside my slippers. She was dressed in a formfitting, floral sundress with warm hues that complemented her olive skin. Hair, makeup, clothes; nothing was ever out of place. Maria took pride in her appearance, not in a self-absorbed way, more like a lifetime of grooming to look the part wasn’t all bad.
“You are glowing dear,” she smiled as we made our way to her room.
Chris followed with her bags. When traveling out of the country Matteo would send two men to stay with her for however long she wished to be gone. When she stayed with us new men would take over so the others could take time off.
Entering Maria’s room was almost enough to make me jealous. Matteo made sure the place looked like a jungle with all the house plants he made the staff keep alive for her. Maria loved live plants as the main color theme. With the rest of the decor in whites and creams and beautifully stained wood furniture, it felt like entering a spa every time I ventured in there to check the plants myself. I won’t even start on the bathroom.
“Come sit with me,” she said, pulling me to the sitting area. We settled on the couch. “So how are things?”
“Um… I’m feeling pretty good. I seem to get tired a lot. The morning sickness hits me at random times but other than that, just nervous.”
“That’s absolutely normal. Did you get that book I suggested?”
“The What To Expect book? Yes. Thank you. It’s really helped with a lot of my random questions.”
“Your welcome. When is the ultrasound?”
“Tomorrow. We can ride together and meet Matteo there.”
Maria’s face fell a bit and I wondered what I’d said to upset her.
“Are you sure it’s ok that I come?”
“Of course,” I nearly shouted. “We want you there. If my parents were home my mother would for sure be there too.”
“Ok, sweetheart, if you say so.”
I shook my head at her teasingly, but inside I felt sad. The poor thing had been isolated for so long it went beyond introvert. She genuinely didn’t feel the right to be apart of anything. I hoped one day that we could work that out of her.
“How is Matteo?”
I openly frowned. “Not so good.”
Unlike my mother who couldn’t be bothered with particulars, Maria always wanted to know as much as she could.
Caterina Dellucci long ago put her head in the sand and simply decided that she would live in a world where she could pretend that what dad did for a living wasn’t bad, and that Matteo was just a regular business partner. That was because— if she didn’t know specifics, it was easier to look the other way.
It was hard to be mad at her about it. She loved my father very much, and even when he told her he had no other choice but to live the life neither of them really wanted, she stayed. She was a wonderful, loving mother.
Maria on the other hand had grown up in the mafia world. She didn’t just understand but wanted to listen and know what was happening. Sometimes I felt guilty that Maria and I had become so close in a short amount of time, and wondered if my mother would be jealous.