My breath snagged, and I pulled him closer to me.
I’d dreamed of being wanted, but obsessed?
It was my lifelong dream…laid bare and answered.
I tore at his shirt, revealing the chiseled planes of his body. I raked my nails down his abs, feeling him shudder, his control fraying. He laughed, a dark, ravenous sound that made my heart race, and fisted my hair, tilting my head back to expose my throat.
“You’re fucking killing me, Ophelia,” he rasped, biting my pulse point, the sting sending a jolt to my clit. “Feel how fucking hard you make me?” He pressed his cock against my hip, thick and rigid through the denim, a delicious promise that made my core clench and flood with an aching need.
“I love that,” I panted as I fumbled with his belt desperately. I ripped it open in a frenzy to touch him. “I loveyou.”
“That’s my fucking girl,” he praised, helping me shove his jeans and briefs down, his cock springing free—long, thick, veined, the head glistening with precum and that silver piercing. “Look at this, baby. All for you, because you’re so fucking perfect.”
I was aching at the sight, my emotions a tangled mess of longing and vulnerability. He guided my hand to his length, letting me feel the hard, pulsing heat of him.
“Stroke me, Ophelia. Show me how much you want me.”
I moved slowly, my thumb circling through the slick at his tip, his low groans growing rougher with every pass. “Fuck, you’re so good,” he rasped, breath hitching. “Making me ache for you, my perfect girl.”
Before I could answer, he caught my wrist, gently pulling my hand away. He urged me backward, and I stumbled until the backs of my knees hit the bed. I fell against the mattress, his gaze dark and consuming. For a heartbeat, he just stared…then shook his head, like he was trying to break whatever spell had taken hold of him.
“Take off those panties and spread your legs for me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. “Show me that pretty pussy.”
I obeyed instantly. My fingers hooked into the soaked lace, the fabric clinging to my slick lips before peeling away, leaving me bare.
My thighs fell open wide, and I reached down, parting my folds with two trembling fingers and exposing every glistening inch to his ravenous stare.
He groaned, a guttural sound that vibrated through the air. “Fuck, your cunt is perfection, Ophelia.” His knees hit the floor hard, the impact echoing in the quiet room.
He gripped my thighs, spreading me wider, and buried his face between them. His tongue dragged up my slit, lapping at my dripping heat like he was starving.
I cried out, hips bucking as he devoured me—sucking my clit into his mouth, tongue flicking hard and fast, then plunging deep inside me, curling to taste every drop. His hands pinned my thighs open, fingers bruising, his groans muffled against my flesh as he ate me out.
Relentless. Messy. His nose ground against my clit with every thrust of his tongue.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” he moaned, pulling back just enough to speak, his lips slick with me. “You’re going to come all over my face.”
He dove back in, sucking harder, tongue-fucking me deeper until my thighs shook. My moans turned to screams, my body arching off the bed as he claimed every inch of me with his mouth.
His stubble scraped my inner thighs, a decadent burn that made me whimper. He growled against my clit, the vibration shooting sparks up my spine, and I fisted the sheets, knuckles white.
“Matty. Fuck—” I gasped, my hips grinding shamelessly against his face, chasing the edge he was dragging me toward.
“Give it to me,” he demanded. “Come on my tongue, baby. Let me taste every fucking drop.”
He attacked again, his tongue lashing my clit in tight, ruthless circles, two fingers sliding inside me, rubbing that spot that made my vision blur.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I chanted as he worked me perfectly, wet sounds filling the room, his mouth sucking my clit like he wanted to swallow me whole.
My back bowed off the bed, a scream ripping from my throat as I came hard. My walls clenched around his fingers as slick gushed over his hand, his chin, and the sheets.
He didn’t stop.
He licked me through it, groaning like my release was the best thing he’d ever tasted, his tongue gentle now, lapping softly, drawing out every aftershock until I was trembling, oversensitive, and begging incoherently. Only then did he pull back and stand up.
I stared at him, dazed, my chest heaving.
His lips were swollen, glistening with me, his stubble dark with my wetness. Those blue eyes burned with raw triumph, like he’d just conquered something.
