Chapter 145 Appetite and Obedience
Valentina
The moment we stepped off the jet, a sleek black limo was waiting. No signs, no delay. Just a suited driver with a thick French accent and a deeper bow for Matteo than I thought possible.
He held the door open as Matteo helped me in, the hem of my dress fluttering in the breeze.
I didn’t even ask how he pulled this off. The dress and new heels. Jewelry that could cover half a ransom. Dinner reservations in Paris.
Somehow… it felt like just another Tuesday for him.
The ride through the city blurred in gold and stone and rain-polished streets. Every light flickered across the glass like a promise I didn’t know I’d made.
By the time we arrived at the restaurant—Le Sépulcre, the kind of place that didn’t advertise and didn’t allow reservations unless your name came with bloodlines or bank accounts—I felt like every breath had been edged with anticipation.
The maître d’ greeted Matteo by name and kissed both my cheeks with reverence.
And when we walked in?
Every head turned.
Not subtly.
Not politely.
Men. Women. Staff. Guests.
I was aware of every swish of my hips, every click of my heels across marble. The slit of my dress teased higher with each step. The cool air skimmed the inside of my thighs, and—
“I think I just flashed someone,” I whispered as I leaned into him, voice low.
Matteo didn’t break stride. “Perfect.”
I blinked. “Perfect?”
He turned his head, lips brushing my ear as he walked me toward the back. “I want them to drool over you, Valentina. Let them ache. Let them fantasize. Let them choke on it.” He paused. “But if it bothers you… take smaller steps.”
I laughed, breathless. “And if I don’t?”
His gaze flicked to mine, dark and knowing. “Then I don’t care either way. You’re mine. And they can die jealous.”
We were seated in a secluded corner booth, the kind draped in thick black linens and half-shadowed by candlelight. Matteo didn’t sit across from me—he slid in beside me, close enough that our thighs touched beneath the table.
I lifted my glass of wine, trying to play it cool. Trying to pretend I wasn’t dripping every time his fingers brushed against my leg “by accident.”
And then… he reached into his coat.
“There’s one more thing,” he said, handing me something discreet, sleek, and black.
I stared down at the object in my palm.
An egg.
A toy.
A remote-controlled toy.
“You’re kidding.”
His smile was wolfish. “I’m dead serious.”
“Matteo—”
“No one can see under the tablecloth. And I want you to put it in. Now.”
My pulse kicked hard. “Right now?”
He leaned in, lips grazing my jaw. “Unless you want me to do it for you, Princess. Right here. In front of everyone.”
I swallowed.
Hard.
The wine didn’t help. Neither did the heat rising up my throat.
“Fine,” I whispered.
With trembling fingers, I adjusted my position just enough. Slid my hand between my legs. Slipped the toy inside, slow and deliberate, biting my lip the entire time.
When I was done, I nodded once.
Matteo’s hand slipped beneath the table and clicked the remote.
My thighs jerked.
He turned it off instantly.
“Good girl.”
The waiter appeared. I had no idea what I ordered. I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.
Because every few minutes—right as I brought a fork to my mouth or tried to answer a question—he’d press the button.
A soft hum. A wicked pulse.
My knees clamped under the table. My breath caught. My back arched.
And no one else at the restaurant had a clue.
But Matteo?
Matteo knew exactly what he was doing.
He waited until dessert.
Then leaned in with a purr.
“You’re going to come for me, right here, aren’t you?”
I whimpered, biting back a moan.
He slid the setting higher.
“Good girl,” he whispered. “Now finish your wine and fall apart for me. Quietly.”
And I did.
God help me—I did.
Because obedience?
Has never felt so filthy.
Or so divine.
The limo pulled away from the curb with a soft purr, champagne already chilled in the side console, city lights casting golden ribbons across the black leather seats. I eased back with a shaky breath, thighs still trembling and body too sensitive for comfort. I should’ve been spent—but I wasn’t. Not with Matteo touching me like he already had round two planned for mid-flight.
The divider between us and the driver stayed down. Unusual.
I didn’t notice it at first. Not until we hit a red light and the glow illuminated the faintest flicker of movement.
The rearview mirror.
Just a glance.
Then again, two turns later.
Then again.
It wasn’t obvious. Not obnoxious. Just a flick of his eyes—quick, practiced.
But it wasn’t once. It was every thirty seconds.
And I knew damn well Matteo had noticed. He hadn’t told the driver to raise the divider. Hadn’t barked a warning. Hadn’t shifted to block the view.
No. He was lounging beside me with his hand sliding up my thigh under my dress, fingers lazily toying with my pussy, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
I turned my head slowly. “You left the divider down.”
“I did,” he said, tone dry and unapologetic.
I licked my lips, voice low. “Your driver keeps looking.”
“I know.”
That was it.
I stared at him. “You want him to look?”
Matteo finally turned to face me, his eyes glinting like dusk over danger. “You started it.”
I blinked. “Me?”
He leaned in, voice barely a whisper against my throat. “You came to the club, dressed like temptation, claimed me in front of everyone… and then fucked me in front of them.” His teeth grazed my ear. “Even if we were mostly blocked, you knew they were watching.”
My breath hitched.
“And now?” he murmured. “I just want more. I want them all to look at you and ache. I want every man who lays eyes on you to imagine what I do to you… and hate that it’s not them.”
He kissed my neck.
“I want them to want you, Princess.”
Another kiss, lower now, where my pulse betrayed me.
“But never touch.”
His fingers traced up my thigh.
“I want them to crave what I get every night, and know they’ll never be enough.”
I squirmed. “That’s… possessive.”
“That’s honest.” His smile was cruelly beautiful. “You don’t know what you did to me when you stood up for me. When you made it public that you belonged to me. That I belonged to you.” His hand cupped my jaw, turning my face toward him. “Now I want to parade you everywhere. I want every dinner to end with you writhing under a tablecloth. Every flight to end with you bent over silk sheets.”
His thumb brushed my lower lip. “Let him watch, baby girl. I hope he’s hard the whole drive. You’re mine.”
And when I looked up again?
Yeah.
The driver was looking.
And Matteo didn’t blink.