Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Four

Genevieve was abruptly pulled from her sleep by a sudden, forceful tug at her panties. Her eyes fluttered open as she instinctively stretched her arms above her head, feeling the fabric slide down her legs before being tossed somewhere across the room. A gasp escaped her lips as she called out Matteo’s name, her body instantly ignited by the sensation of his mouth pressing against her clit. Her hands tangled in his hair, gripping tightly as his tongue danced with fierce determination, flicking and sucking with an urgency that left no doubt of his intent. She moaned softly, her hips rising to meet his eager mouth, her body responding as though he had spent the past four days meticulously attuning every nerve ending to his touch. His tongue and lips were relentless, sending shivers of pleasure rippling down her spine and coursing through her limbs until a powerful wave of ecstasy broke over her, crashing through every inch of her being.

Before the aftershocks of her first climax could fully subside, Matteo’s lips claimed hers with a possessive hunger, demanding she return his kiss without hesitation. His cock thrust deep inside her in one long, brutal motion, burying himself completely within her warmth. A low groan rumbled from his chest as he paused, savoring the sensation of being so fully connected to her. She could feel the pulsing of his length, responding to the way her pussy clenched tightly around him, craving movement. Slowly, he withdrew until only the tip remained pressed against her swollen entrance, never giving her a moment to recover. For four days straight, he had filled her in every way imaginable, pushing them both to the brink of exhaustion.

When he thrust back inside her, Genevieve’s eyes snapped open, catching the soft morning light filtering through the windows. Suddenly, his urgency made sense.

The rising sun was a cruel reminder—he would have to leave her soon.

“Matteo…” she whispered, the tremor of fear in her voice locking his intense golden-green gaze onto hers.

“Weakness,” he murmured, lowering his head to kiss her again.

She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, hooking her ankles behind his back as he continued to drive into her. His lips left hers only to trail down the tender curve of her neck. His teeth bit into her shoulder, sharp and fierce, making her whimper as if he might break the skin. One hand braced beside her head, supporting his weight, while the other gripped her arm with a brutal hold that would surely leave bruises. He was marking her—claiming her body as his own. Every day for the past several days, he had left traces of himself on her skin, covering her in bruises and hickies that spoke of their passion.

His thrusts were savage and unrelenting, pushing her toward the edge again, faster than the sun could climb the sky.

“Please,” she begged, her voice barely more than a desperate breath, pleading with him, with God, with the sun itself.

“Genevieve,” he whispered, his hips crashing into hers one last time before he released himself inside her with a guttural groan of satisfaction.

His lips sucked harshly at the skin beneath her ear until it stung.

“What time is it?” she asked softly, her voice trembling.

Matteo exhaled deeply. “Just a little after seven.”

Swallowing hard, Genevieve turned her head away to hide the tears threatening to spill. His flight was scheduled for 8:30. She felt the weight of the impending goodbye settle heavily on her chest. Matteo shifted his hips, and despite still being inside her, his cock began to lengthen and harden again. Without hesitation, she hooked her ankle around his leg and pushed against his chest, forcing him to fall back onto his back. His eyes widened in surprise at her bold move. He placed one hand behind his head, watching her as she slowly moved her hips against him.

Genevieve kept her motions deliberate and slow—a gentle lift from her legs followed by a slow descent. Matteo’s heavy-lidded gaze drank her in as his free hand brushed along her thigh. Sitting up, he captured a nipple between his lips, swirling the sensitive nub with his tongue. She threw her head back, gasping as his hands spread along her spine, holding her up. Though her movements were slow, the heat inside her grew rapidly, burning in her belly. The friction of her clitoris against the coarse hair above his cock sent sharp jolts of pleasure radiating through her stomach. The fullness of him inside her, throbbing and begging for more, filled her completely.

She gasped sharply as he thrust upward roughly, but instead of surrendering control, she pressed one hand firmly to his chest and gripped his thigh with the other. Holding him down, she resisted his attempts to quicken the pace, determined to chase her own release on her terms. Her eyes fluttered closed, her breath deepening and growing more desperate. She pursued her climax with fierce determination, tightening her grip and digging her nails into his skin whenever he tried to take over, forcing him to pause.

“Fuck, Gen,” Matteo cursed as her nails drew blood.

When her orgasm finally crashed over her, it hit like an electric shock, her back stiffening and arms tensing as she gasped in shaky breaths, her body trembling uncontrollably.

“Mmm, fuck, Weakness. I love the way that pussy grips me when you come. My turn?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

Genevieve could only nod, licking her lips in anticipation.

“Good.”

Matteo began to slam into her with fierce intensity, making her eyes widen and mouth fall open. He grabbed her forearms to steady her as he pounded relentlessly, eliciting small screams from her lips with every thrust. Her cries echoed through the room, her body alight with sensation, nerves firing wildly as endorphins flooded her bloodstream.

“Say my name, Weakness. Say it, and I’ll end this for you,” Matteo demanded, his voice low and commanding.

“Oh, God…” she gasped.

“Close, but not quite,” he teased, amusement threading through his dominant tone. “Say it.”

“Ma-Mat…”

“Genevieve, now,” he hissed sharply.

“Matteo!” she screamed as his hips locked against hers and he came with a violent shudder.

His hands remained clenched around her forearms, the pressure nearly snapping her bones. His body trembled as he rode out his orgasm, while she slowly surfaced from her own. When he finally released her arms, Genevieve collapsed against him, their heavy breaths mingling as their chests rose and fell in sync.

“I have to start getting ready,” Matteo whispered, his hand sliding down her back.

Genevieve’s body stiffened, her breath catching in her throat. “Weakness…”

“I know,” she whispered back, voice breaking. “Just… five more minutes. Please.”

Matteo sighed deeply. “Okay, five more minutes.”

An hour later, they stepped out of the house where they had spent their brief honeymoon. Matteo reassured her it was only the first of many; once they resolved matters with Bennett and Galante, a second, far more extravagant honeymoon awaited them. Genevieve watched as he locked the door behind them, a pang of longing twisting inside her. She didn’t want a lavish second honeymoon—she just wished this one could stretch on forever.

The drive to the airport was heavy with silence. Genevieve sat beside Matteo in the backseat, clutching his hand as if releasing it would cause him to be swallowed by a black hole from which he would never return. Her stomach knotted with nerves as the car was directed onto the tarmac. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her palms grew clammy as the plane came into view.

Two other SUVs waited nearby—one for Frankie, Leo, and Louis, who would escort Genevieve back to Alessio’s compound, and the other for Alessio’s men, ever watchful. As Matteo stepped from the car, his head snapped toward the plane. Moments later, Genevieve understood why. She heard shouting and the sound of crashing.

Matteo hurried to her side, helping her out of the car before striding quickly toward his jet.

“What the hell is going on?” he called out.

Leo came tumbling down the stairs of the plane, hitting the tarmac with a heavy thud. Frankie appeared in the doorway, chest heaving with ragged breaths. Genevieve gasped when she saw the panic and fury etched across his face.

“Frankie? What the hell?” Matteo shouted as he helped Leo to his feet.

“I’m going back with you,” Frankie declared sharply, his tone brooking no argument.

Matteo scoffed. “No way. I fought for half an hour to clear your name. You’re staying here with Gen and—”

“I’m going back with you, Matteo!” Frankie interrupted fiercely.

Everyone nearby froze. Genevieve had never heard Frankie call Matteo by his first name before, and it was clear no one else had either. The tense silence was broken when Matteo rolled his shoulders.

“What are—”

“They’ve killed Stephen!” Frankie’s voice cracked with anger.

A cold shiver ran down Genevieve’s spine, and she stepped forward, steadying herself against the shock.

“Who?” Matteo demanded.

“The Russian bastards after Gloria. They came in the dead of night and…” Frankie rubbed his face wearily. “She’s gone, man. They took my girl, and they killed my…”

Matteo climbed the few steps to where Frankie stood and pulled him into a fierce hug. The anger Frankie had been holding onto so tightly melted away as he gripped Matteo with enough force to nearly break him. Leo moved to Genevieve’s side, pulling her into a comforting side hug. That’s when she realized tears were streaming down her cheeks.

“All right,” Matteo said, setting Frankie back and gripping his shoulders firmly. “But you know as soon as we touch down, they’ll be coming for us. Part of the deal was that you stay in Italy, so they’ll want to take you in.”

“Good. That’s what I want. There’s a man on the inside I need to… have a conversation with,” Frankie replied, a sinister edge creeping into his frown.

“Go take a seat and let me say goodbye to my wife,” Matteo ordered.

Frankie gave a small nod and disappeared back into the plane. Matteo’s shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath as he turned away, keeping his gaze low as he returned to Genevieve.

“You okay?” he asked Leo quietly.

Leo scoffed. “He got one lucky punch in.”

Matteo smirked, eyes flicking to Leo’s swollen cheekbone before settling on Genevieve, his heart tightening at the sight of her.

“I have to go,” he whispered.

“I know,” she replied softly.

Leo quietly slipped away, giving them space.

“We can’t sit here all day like last time I left you alone,” Matteo said, voice heavy with emotion.

“No, we can’t.”

“I love you, Weakness,” he murmured, brushing his knuckles gently over her cheek. “Take care of yourself, take care of our baby, stick to the plan. Do you understand? Don’t deviate. Especially now with Frankie coming along—I need you to be smart. Okay?”

“I promise. You be safe too,” she demanded, clutching his shirt tightly.

He ran his fingers through her hair and smiled softly. “It’s only prison.”

Genevieve rolled her eyes as he leaned down to kiss her—a deep, lingering kiss that left her breathless. He pressed his forehead against hers.

“Stick to the plan,” he whispered once more.

Without another word, he stepped away and turned, walking toward the plane without looking back. Moments later, Leo’s arm wrapped around her waist again, and she leaned heavily into him as the engines roared to life.