“Shit,” I cursed as Matt peered at his reflection, probably trying to figure out whether he had been at the party looking like that.
“I’m a messy eater,” I squawked.
“You’re messy with a lot of things,” he said, voice intoxicatingly deep.
With a light shove, I found myself backed to the corner of the elevator, Matt looming over me and claiming my mouth in a searing kiss that sent tingles up and down my spine.
His fists bunched in the fabric of my short cocktail dress, lifting it well past the bounds of propriety. Not like that was a huge concern right now.
“I was hoping you’d pick that dress,” he said between kisses.
“Why?” I breathed. “What, did you want to fuck me in it or something?”
In answer, his mouth descended on my own again, tongue sweeping in to dance with my own. His hand slid up my thigh, and I sighed against his mouth when his fingertips brushed against the fabric over my pussy.
The first touch was hesitant as if he was asking silent permission. I was more than happy to give it, and I jerked my hips into him to silently beg for more.
He gave it to me. His fingers pushed the fabric to the side and slid in, rubbing over my wet pussy and then my clit.
My light sigh turned into a moan. The man was going at me as if he wanted me to come right here and now. Honestly, that was more than okay. I—
The elevator dinged open.
Thank goodness Matt lived in a penthouse and no one had been waiting on the other side of the doors. That would have been a nice show.
Reluctantly, Matt pulled away from me. He took my wrist and tugged me forward, leading me to his bedroom.
I followed on slightly wobbly legs. All my blood had rushed somewhere else.
Without a word, Matt stepped behind me and swept me up in his arms. I squeaked and tried to level a glare at him, but he only smirked back at me.
“Just think of me as your private Christmas sleigh.”
“I thought you didn't like the puns,” I countered.
“You've corrupted me.”
Through a feat of multitasking, he squeezed my ass as he took me to his bedroom.
His bed was massive and bouncy as he put me down on it. I pulled him down over me, and he crawled on top, kissing me again. His hands found my tits, pulling them out of the confines of my little cocktail dress.
Matt leaned back to look at me—his eyes full of hot hunger.
“I want to fuck you in your little dress,” he said.
“What are you waiting for?”
Matt needed no further permission. Pausing only to grab a condom from his bedside drawer, he pulled my panties down and kicked them away. Then he divested himself of his pants and shirt. Knowing his eyes were on me, I reached down and played with my own tits. His eyes locked on me, and the moment the man rolled on a condom he was on me in a flash.
He entered me hard, bringing mutual groans of relief. I tangled my fingers in his hair as he drove his thick hard cock into my pussy over and over.
“Your cock feels so good,” I moaned loudly. Matt knew exactly what I liked and just how to strike my G-spot.
He peppered me with hot kisses as he fucked into me, the bottom of my dress flipped up and my tits hanging out over the top.
He thrust rapidly, short, hard bursts, and my moans took on a new pitch.
I couldn't keep this up—couldn't hold off the orgasm that was sweeping me off the edge, even if I wanted to.
