I writhed against him, my hands tangling in his wet hair, holding him to me as though he might disappear if I let go. Our eyes locked, and in that moment, it wasn’t just our bodies that were connected.
The orgasm hit hard and fast, ripping through me. I cried out, my body convulsing as I spilled into his mouth, my release drawn from the very depths of my being. Matt’s eyes never left mine, swallowing everything I gave him, the intensity in his gaze turning my knees to jelly.
As the aftershocks subsided, he rose to his feet, capturing my lips in a kiss that was both a claiming and a promise. “How was that for a prelude to the evening?” he asked with a smirk.
“That was… an overture of epic proportions,” I admitted, still riding the high of my climax.
His grin widened. “Care to return the favor?”
“Ah,” I said with mock solemnity. “It would be my absolute pleasure.”
I took my time exploring his body, my lips and tongue mapping every ridge and valley of his muscular chest, lingering on his nipples until they hardened into tight little buds. “Aw, look at these adorable little soldiers standing at attention,” I cooed, giving each a playful flick. “They’re more obedient than you are.”
Matt’s laugh rumbled through his chest like distant thunder. “Says the guy whose nipples go from zero to fireworks at the slightest breeze. I’ve seen more restraint in a teenager at their first concert.”
I shot him a mock glare, pulling back just enough to fix him with my most imperious look. “Excuse you, but some of us are sensitive by design. We can’t all be walking mountains with nipples made of steel.” I paused for dramatic effect. “Besides, you love my… enthusiasm.”
He grinned, unrepentant, as I moved lower, lavishing attention on his washboard abs. “You know,” I murmured against his skin, “these abs should be in a museum. But then I’d have to share, and I’m not feeling generous.” I traced each defined muscle with deliberate slowness. “Perfect little squares of heaven. Don’t you dare let them fade, or we’re getting a divorce—and we’re not even married.”
Matt’s laughter vibrated under my lips as I began my solemn duty of naming each pack. “This handsome fellow here is Henry.” I pressed a kiss to the highest ab. “And his brothers George and Louis.” More kisses. “Can’t forget Chester and Nippy up here.” I gave his chest and nipples their due attention. “My own personal six-pack plus bonus features.”
When I finally reached his impressive erection, standing proud and ready, I paused for dramatic effect. “And what shall we call this magnificent beast?” I mused aloud, my breath teasing the sensitive skin.
“I have a name for yours,” Matt interjected, his eyes dark with desire but dancing with mischief. “Little Thunder.”
I huffed, shooting him my best indignant look. “Little Thunder? Excuse you, but this bad boy deserves something grand, majestic… like Excalibur or Mjolnir. Something worthy of a king’s arsenal.”
“Mjolnir, huh?” He arched an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my protest. “Mighty ambitious.”
“Yes, Mjolnir,” I affirmed, before turning my attention back to his impressive length. “And yours—this masterpiece right here—I shall call it Leviathan.”
With that declaration, I took him into my mouth, my lips sealing around his girth, my tongue teasing the sensitive underside. Matt’s chuckle transformed into a deep growl of pleasure, his hands tangling in my hair as I set about proving just why I deserved naming rights.
Our eyes locked, and in the depths of his steel-gray gaze, I saw the reflection of my own desire—a burning, insatiable need that only the other could quench. My lips slid up and down his shaft, my tongue swirling and teasing, drawing him deeper with each stroke.
His fingers twisted in my hair, gentle yet insistent, as I worked him closer and closer to the edge. His breath hitched when I cupped his balls with one hand, rolling them gently while my mouth took him to the hilt. The salty prelude of his desire coated my tongue, a tantalizing preview of what was to come.
“Andy,” he ground out between clenched teeth, his body rigid as pleasure coiled tight within him.
I hummed around his girth, the vibration eliciting a deep, guttural moan from him. Matt’s eyes never wavered from mine, a silent reflection of the trust and intimacy we shared. It was a heady feeling, knowing I held such power over this formidable man—the ability to reduce him to a mass of quivering need.
With a final, desperate thrust, he came undone. Matt’s release flooded my mouth, hot and sweet, and I swallowed it down with relish. The look of pure ecstasy on his face was a sight to behold, a moment I’d treasure long after the aftershocks faded.
As he softened in my mouth, I released him with a satisfied pop, wiping the corner of my lips with an exaggerated flourish. “Well, well… looks like Leviathan knows who’s boss now,” I quipped, rising to my feet. “Should I expect a formal surrender ceremony?”
Matt’s arm snaked around my waist, pulling me into a searing kiss that had my toes curling. His tongue swept into my mouth, tasting himself on my lips. “Careful there, pet,” he murmured against my mouth, voice rich with amusement. “Leviathan has been known to stage comebacks.”
“Mmm, is that a promise or a threat?” I draped my arms over his broad shoulders, pressing our bodies together as the shower’s warm spray created our own private paradise. “Because this tamer is always up for an encore performance.”
“You and that smart mouth,” Matt chuckled, his hands sliding down to cup my ass. “Could probably talk the devil into attending Sunday mass.”
“Please,” I scoffed playfully, “I’ve got bigger ambitions. Like convincing a certain billionaire to?—”
Our banter was cut short by thunderous knocking. “For the love of all things holy!” Ryan’s voice boomed through the door, dripping with theatrical exasperation. “There’s fashionably late, and then there’s whatever you two are doing. Some of us would like to make it to the gala before breakfast!”
I buried my face in Matt’s chest, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. “Your brother’s timing is as subtle as a Vegas billboard,” I whispered. “Think he has a sixth sense for interrupting?”
“More like a PhD in inconvenient appearances,” Matt agreed, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead before reluctantly setting me on my feet. “Come on, troublemaker. Let’s get ready before Ryan breaks down the door and traumatizes himself.”
