Dusk and Desire - A Mattheo Riddle Story

Bloody Villains

TW: This is a spicy scene and there are knives so... yeah...

Mattheo watched Nora's ass as she practically sprinted up the stairs. She looked so good in those black pants. He'd have to ask her to wear them more. But to be honest, she looked good in about every damn pair of pants. Maybe the solution was to tell her not to wear pants...

Fuck. Now he was thinking about Nora not wearing pants, something that would be happening very soon. As soon as this damn pest was gone.

He turned back to the little Ravenclaw boy in front of him. Lincoln Powell. Nora's ex-friend-with-benefits.

She hadn't exactly told him who he was but Mattheo had his sources—AKA a scary brother who looked at him oddly when Mattheo asked him to find out every possible thing he could about Nora Rosier. Tom may have graduated five years ago but he still had plenty of sources within the walls. To be honest, he knew just about anything he wanted to. The bloke was scary. Plus, Mattheo had little birds of his own.

He sneered down at the boy who was a good few inches shorter. Merlin, he couldn't imagine Nora with a guy like this. All scraggly and fake-confident. She'd eat people like Lincoln Powell for breakfast. The thought of him thinking he had a chance to get with her made Mattheo laugh. Maybe when she wasn't as confident in her ability to pull a man as attractive as Mattheo but now? Now a boy like this couldn't satisfy her like a man could. Like he could.

Something that didn't make Mattheo laugh? The fact that Powell had the audacity—the unmitigated gall—to come into Mattheo's party and drink Mattheo's liquor while trying to take Mattheo's girl. The least forgiving of all of the Slytherin boys. The one with the most dangerous family and the worst temper.

This was going to go swell.

"The fuck do you want, Riddle?" Powell spat. He breathed in to try and enlarge himself but to be honest, it just looked like a child attempting to make himself look bigger but failing miserably.

Mattheo chuckled darkly. "I just want a little chat. Man to man." Man to boy more like.

"I don't want to talk to you! I finally had a fucking chance with the hottest girl in Hogwarts after I fucked things up and you had to ruin it. Go get with another girl. Leave mine alone."

Within milliseconds, Mattheo had grabbed Lincoln by his neck, shoving him into the stone wall hard enough to make the back of his head bleed. The boy cried out in both shock and pain but Mattheo didn't let up. He clenched his jaw in anger and only pushed Lincoln harder.

"Listen here, you piece of shit. Nora is mine. Mine," he growled. "And I'll be damned if you think you have some kind of fucking claim on her."

"Dude, chill out!" Lincoln rasped.

"If you ever get near her again," he said, ignoring the boy scratching at his hand, "I will make you regret every day for the rest of your miserable little life."

"You're a fucking psycho!"

Mattheo smiled. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Don't forget it. Because this apple," he squeezed Lincoln's neck tighter, "is fucking rotten to the core. And I won't hesitate to show you exactly what my last name means if you attempt to threaten what's mine again."

He dropped Lincoln to the ground and grinned at him. "So glad we had that talk. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go fuck my girlfriend. I need to get a head start—she's insatiable. You know, since I'm the only one who can actually make her come. Sorry about that, mate. You'll get the next one."

Mattheo patted him on the back before bounding up the stairs. Now, he was the one practically running to his bedroom. Could you blame him? He had a hot girl in there waiting for him. He wasn't stupid enough to waste that opportunity. Not when the girl was Nora.