Descent - Mattheo Riddle

Chapter thirty *

This chapter contains mature content.

Lucia

June 5th, 3:20 a.m

His hands glided up my thighs with a tenderness that belied the intensity I could see simmering in his eyes. The touch was soft, almost reverent, yet there was an underlying firmness to it that sent a shiver racing up my spine. Our eyes met, and in that moment, he sought my approval, a silent question hanging in the air between us. But before I could voice an answer—before I could even gather my thoughts—his lips captured mine.

For a heartbeat, my eyes widened in surprise, the sudden flood of sensations almost overwhelming. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, my mind reeling from the unexpected intensity. But then, instinct took over. My hesitation melted away, and I responded with equal fervor, returning his kiss with the same hunger that had ignited within me. I pulled him closer, my fingers threading through the thick strands of his hair, anchoring myself to him as the rest of the world faded into insignificance.

The weight of his body pressed against mine, firm and unyielding, as he urged me back onto the grass. His hands, which had moments ago been caressing my thighs, roamed across my body with a possessive urgency. The kiss deepened, became more demanding, his lips and tongue coaxing me into a dance of dominance that I found impossible to resist. He led, and I followed, the rhythm of our bodies matching the fevered intensity of our kiss.

After what felt like an eternity and yet no time at all, he broke the kiss, my breath coming in ragged gasps as he reluctantly pulled away. His hands found the hem of his shirt, and with a swift, practiced motion, he pulled it over his head, revealing the sculpted lines of his torso. My breath caught in my throat as my eyes roamed over his body, taking in the taut muscles that rippled beneath his skin, the scars that marred the otherwise perfect expanse of his chest and abdomen. Each scar told a story, whispered of battles fought and endured, and to me, they only heightened his allure, making him all the more irresistible.

He wasted no time in divesting me of my own top, his hands moving with a deftness that spoke of both experience and eagerness. The cool night air caressed my now-bare skin, but it was the heat radiating from him that truly set me ablaze. His warmth enveloped me, an all-consuming fire that I was more than willing to surrender to.

His skin was like molten embers against mine, the heat of him searing into me, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touched. I knew, in that moment, that I was ready to walk through the flames of hell itself if it meant feeling what only he could give me. The world around us ceased to exist, and all that remained was this—him, me, and the undeniable pull that drew us together, like moths to a flame.

The more I surrendered to the sensations, the more Mattheo's intensity grew, feeding off my inexperience and nervousness with a predatory hunger. His hands moved with a deftness that left me breathless, undressing me with quick, practiced motions that were as precise as they were passionate. Each piece of clothing he removed felt like a barrier falling away, leaving me exposed to his touch, his gaze, his desire.

His hands trailed over my skin, leaving a path of tingling warmth in their wake. I shivered as his breath ghosted over the sensitive curve of my neck, a prelude to the touch of his lips. When they finally pressed against my skin, the kiss was nothing short of electrifying. It was intense, each touch sending waves of heat spiraling through me, but it was the way he sucked and bit into the delicate flesh that made my breath hitch, a soft moan escaping my lips before I could stifle it.

His hands explored my legs, tracing the contours of my body with an almost reverent touch. But there was nothing reverent about the way he stripped away my final piece of clothing, his movements firm and unhesitating. My undergarments slid away, and before I knew it, the last barriers between us had disappeared entirely.