“Please, Matt, I’m—”
“Beautiful.” His lips coast down my neck as his fingers tug the zipper at my side. “I can’t wait to see you, Ryan.”
Those bedroom tones and the straps of my dress slipping from my shoulders. I close my eyes as the fabric tantalizes my skin, sliding over the tips of my breasts. Pooling on the floor.
“Because you’re so fucking beautiful.”
I push out a breath, suddenly all sensation, every inch of my skin aware of every inch of him. The brush of his pants against my naked thighs, his chest as it grazes my back. The press of his lips against my neck. The feel of his strong arms as they band around me, and the subsequent hot press of his cock.
“You’ll stay.” The tenderness in his tone breaks my heart into a million pieces.
“You know I have to steal away like a thief during the night.”
“Then I’ll just have to keep you busy till morning,” he murmurs, taking my breasts in his hands. “My little teacup.” His words are shaped against my skin.
Is it called a pet name because it makes me want to curl into him?
“So delicate and curved.”
“Matt.” I make a moan of his name as his thumbs glide over my hardened nipples. A soft tug, and I gasp, my body jolting from his.
“And look how you fill my hands.”
“I feel like I’d fill a barrow,” I half scoff.
“Hush,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my neck. “How I feel when I look at you is fucking primal. I just want to pounce on you because you’re so fucking sexy. I’m sure I lose a little piece of my mind every time I so much as glance your way.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Crazy for you. Turn around, darlin’.” His hands find my hips. “Turn around and let me see what I’ve been dreaming of.Fuck me.” His midnight gaze sweeps over me, bold, possessive, hungry.
“Well, now that we’re here ...” My words hold a confidence I don’t really feel as I push away a glimpse of tomorrow. Of my regret.
“You can fuck me any day of the week, teacup.” His lips tip. “And twice on Sundays, if I’m good.”
“Ifyou’re good?” I reach for the buttons of his shirt, pulling it from the waist to hide how my hands shake.
“Oh, I’ll be good,” he says, reaching between his shoulder blades to pull it up and over his head. “I’ll be so good, you’ll weep.”
I know,I think as his lips brush a light tease across my own. I swallow his groan—eat it up—as my fingertips find their objective. Warm skin and muscle, his abs rippling in response to my touch. My fingers moving lower and pressing over the bulge in his pants.
“God, I want you, Ryan.” He gives a tiny sucking pull to my bottom lip. “I want you so much, I can barely see straight.”
“Yes, let’s ...” I feel myself growing wet, my body aching for this.My heart aching for him.
Like the moves have been choregraphed, like I’m not the size of a hippo in La Perla panties and heels, Matt moves us across the room to the bed. Before I have the chance to sit, his body folds gracefully before me, his hands pressing to my bump as though in benediction.
A kiss to the center, so sweet, before his fingers loop my right ankle. One shoe. Two. My hands falling to his shoulders for balance. He sets them to the side and then hooks his thumbs into the elastic of my panties and slips them down my legs. I keep my hands where they are, my equilibrium still rocking.
Down on the bed, things moving faster now. My hands in his hair, his tongue hot and clever as it licks into my mouth. “Please, I need you.”
“I know, darlin’. God, I know.”
He parts my knees, the air on my pulsing clit almost too much. Too much and not enough as his attentions move to my breasts, and he engulfs my nipple with a soft groan.
“Oh, God!” I arch against him, moaning loudly as he licks and laves, as he uses his fingers to echo that tight pull.
“God, you’re so fucking lovely. And the sounds you make.”
