Mattheo Riddle Shirtless Novels & Stories

Chapter 53: Ready To Get Settled? Maisie's POV: I tried to do as He said with my knees still pulled up to my chest. I even leaned slightly forward and raised my arms over my head some. He then placed the material around my head and arms. He then reached through the large opening and grabbed each one of my wrists and put them through the holes in the side of the delicate material. I have never felt material this soft before. This was certainly not what I was expecting. When my head came out of the hole and I could see again so I slowly lowered my legs, placing my hands in my lap. I looked around at the material that hung around my arms as it was hanging off both my shoulders. The item

I read the disturbing text and clicked on the link. As the video loaded, my heart raced and my legs felt like jelly. The video played without revealing any faces, just a blank screen, but I could swear the voice was mine. Tears streamed down my face as I clutched the phone tightly. Why do I have to endure all this chaos while just trying to attend school? "Seeing your stained cloth, it must've been you," Nova said, rising and approaching me. I was wary of her intentions, vowing silently to protect myself. "Did you get deflowered in school?" she asked, causing Hilda to gasp in apparent shock.

“I can get a better rating than adequate.” “I’d like that,” I said and drew a finger down the center of his chest. I felt his heart beating and him shuddering with need. “And maybe you will.” The room clapped for us as I saw Matt standing, stock-still in the hallway leading from the front door. He wore no mask. He didn’t even look like he’d been aware that there would be a party. He wore a dress shirt that was open around his throat and slacks. He looked a bit tired too, but that faded as our gazes met.

He looked like he had just gotten home, and he was carrying three shopping bags in his left hand. I gasped as my eyes widened. “Good God!” I combed my hair multiple times because I’m certain as hell my hair looks like a bird’s nest right now. Why does he have to show up while I'm like this? “You should be covering your breasts.” Matteo’s voice was flat, as if what he said was something normal. He said it like it doesn’t even matter, making my face burn in so much embarrassment after I realized I was only wearing a thin t-shirt and panties. No bra at all. My nipples were outlined through the fabric.

He was Italian, of course, with tanned skin that hinted at hours spent under the Mediterranean sun and a body that looked like it had been carved by the gods themselves. Matteo's dark, unruly hair fell across his forehead in just the right way, and his eyes-deep, molten brown-were like a promise of trouble. He wore a white linen shirt, unbuttoned just enough to reveal the smooth plane of his chest, and loose-fitting khaki pants that hung low on his hips. The way he held his drink, the way he tilted his head as he laughed—it was like he knew every woman in the room was watching him, and he didn't mind

My knuckles rapped against the heavy oak door, sharp and unrelenting, the sound echoing through the empty corridor. The door swung open so suddenly that I nearly stumbled. Matteo stood there, shirtless, his chest still glistening from a recent shower. His dark hair was damp, tousled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it in frustration. Or maybe anticipation. His gaze dropped, slow and deliberate, raking over my body before lingering on the way the silk cupped my breasts, the way the garter straps framed my hips. A muscle in his jaw twitched. I didn’t hesitate.I slapped him, the sound loud enough to make my fingers sting.

I am so going to beat him this time ,you Maxwell just pray you didn't come in front of me soon otherwise this is going to be your last day. i am in a extra-large grey men's shirt and it won't take a genius to know whose shirt is this! With white shorts ,he changed my pants too ,I am back to taking deep breaths to control myself no wonder I felt so free to move around but what I dread the most is ,I hold my shirt forward to look inside confirming my doubt , I don't have a bra on... That's it I can't take this shit anymore

I didn’t. The mattress dipped behind me. I didn’t turn right away. Matteo said nothing, just pulled the shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor with the same silent finality he used when stripping a rifle. Efficient. Careful. Lethal. My shirt was still damp. The air inside the safehouse was humid, thick with leftover city heat. I could feel the tension between us — not the mission kind. Not survival. Something older. Quieter. Hungrier.

"An hour is a long time, Agatha. A really long time. You sure you weren’t just… enjoying the show?" I turned to Luke with the most murderous glare I could muster. "Listen here, you overgrown sack of testosterone—" "Enough." Matthew’s voice sliced through the laughter like a blade. Oh boy. Slowly, I turned. And there he was. Matthew stood outside his tent, shirtless, breathing hard, looking like he was two seconds away from snapping my neck. His messy, dark hair was damp with sweat, his tattooed chest rising and falling with every deep breath. His deep blue eyes burned with fury.

His throat seized. Matteo looked pointedly at the splashes of blood on his shirt, as if he didn't notice. “ It's just paint.” he said as if they both couldn't smell the blood. Matteo’s gaze dropped briefly—to the shirt Jamie wore. His shirt. He stared at his slightly exposed chest, a swollen nipple that he spent majority of the night feasting on peaked out. Jamie tightened the shirt to his neck. Then he looked back to Jamie’s face. “Why are you wandering around by this time,” Matteo continued, voice low, even. “This house is… massive. You could get lost...or wander into unknown places”