Motherの小説

ALESSANDRO The shock on Matteo's face when his eyes met mine was just exquisite.His eyes widened in recognition before he froze at the doorway of the chapel.It was satisfying to see the color drain from his cheeks underneath the soft lighting.My gaze raked over him shamelessly.There was that same lean body I had mapped with my mouth in a suit.And I would recognise those luscious lips I had bruised with kisses anywhere. He looked edible in that suit.The thought of stripping it off him later, at home, made my blood to surge.His lips parted and I heard his breath catch even from where I stood at the altar. Perfect.This was the exact reaction I had been expecting since the day began.It was my own payback for what he had done to me that night, two weeks ago.I could still remember every detail. I could still feel the way his tight hole had clenched around my cock perfectly.It had undoubtedly been as if he was made for my cock and my cock alone. Every moan he had made was bra

MATTEO{Two Weeks Ago}I was quiet as the big man carried me up the stairs to a private room.He set me down on my feet as soon as the door clicked shut behind us.Then I was instantly pushed back against the door with gentle force.His chest pressed against mine as his lips crashed onto mine, hot and demanding. I melted into the kiss with a soft moan.My heart was instantly racing as his tongue slid in to explore my mouth. The sparks that shot through me at the intrusion made my knees weak.His hands roamed over my body, fingers expertly tugging my clothes off.I grabbed the edged of his jacket and began pulling it off his shoulders. We broke the kiss just long enough for us to strip away the remaining layers. Our shirts hit the floor, followed by leather belts, pants, and then our underwear.We didn't stop until every single clothing had whispered to the ground.I reached up and pulled off the strawberry blonde wig, letting my real hair fall. He paused, stepping back as a wide

MATTEO {Two Weeks Ago}The bass from the high dimension speakers hit me the moment I stepped in.Around me, the lights flashed different colours: red, blue, violet—then again.The air was heavy with the smell of sweat, perfume, cologne and alcohol.I adjusted the large cap of the black hoodie which I wore low on my head.The gay bar was crowded, dark and loud in a way that made me feel safe.Faces blurred together on the dance floor with no one looking too closely.I liked it like this, no one recognizing me in different clothes and a different posture.This was another version of me.The wig I had on itched badly as the colored contacts caused my eyes to water. But my disguise was necessary. I could not risk anyone recognizing me, Vittorio Leone's disappointment of a son, in a place such as this.I didn't want to be the useless son here, just another stranger looking for a drink.Maybe a hard fuck too.I made my way to the counter where my order for a drink was answered quickly.I

MATTEO "Matteo, get down here."My father's annoying voice was layered with impatientce as it floated up the stairs."We leave in five minutes or we will both be late to your damn wedding." My hands fumbled with the tie for the third time till I finally got it straight.I stared at my reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the man in the whiteThis was really happening.I was getting married to a random man my father had chosen for me today.I hadn't even bothered to check, to find out how my groom looked or his age.I had convinced myself that it didn't matter neither did I care about those details.But deep down in my mind, I knew that it wasn't true—I wish I knew."Look boy, if you don't get down this minute I will have to drag you down!"I shut my eyes tightly, sighing at my father's words while rubbing my temple gently.He was never patient."Let's do this," I said as I spared one last glance at myself in the looking glass.Then, I turned away and headed out of the room w

MATTEOThe familiar smell of disinfectant vanished the instant I stepped through the revolving doors at the hospital's entrance.I pulled my jacket tighter to keep out the chill of the evening breeze.I headed toward my car thinking of my bedridden twin sister, Sofia.She had looked the same today, just like she always had for the past three years.She had lain in the bed in the VIP room, pale and unmoving, in coma.Sofia was still trapped somewhere between life and death while the machines around her helped her to breathe.I had sat beside her bed for an hour, talking about nothing genuinely important. The weather has been the conversation starter, swiftly followed by a book I had started to read about two nights ago. She never answered. She hadn't answered in three years and I missed her so much it ached physically.But I was glad that at least she was safe here, away from him—our father.She was safe from the monstrosity of that house and the venom that dripped from every word o