Page 20 of The Boss

The bathroom is all marble and gold fixtures, and normally, I'd take my time admiring it. But not now. Not when my heart feels like it's about to escape its cage.

I'm still staring at my flushed face in the mirror, trying to get my pulse under control, when the door opens.

Matthew steps inside and locks it behind him.

"This is the women's room," I say stupidly.

"I'm aware."

He crosses the space between us in two strides and kisses me.

The kiss hits like a fuse igniting. His mouth is hot, demanding, claiming mine with a hunger that sends sparks of pleasure skittering down my legs. My arms wrap around his neck as I pull him closer, needing to feel every rigid inch of him against me.

Matthew backs me up until the cold marble wall slams into my spine, the shock of icy stone against my overheated skin ripping a sharp gasp from my throat that he devours.

The contrast is dizzying—a chilled wall at my back, his scorching body molding to my front, the hard length of his cock already pressing insistently against my stomach through our clothes. My thighs clench together on instinct, but it only makes the ache worse, that deep, throbbing need that's been building since the moment he pulled me onto the dance floor.

God, this is reckless.

His hand drags up my thigh as he shoves my dress higher, and his fingers brush the soaked edge of my lace panties. My own arousal coats his fingertips as he teases along my folds, circling my taut bud.

The thought of stopping now feels physically painful, like my body would revolt if he pulled away.

Matthew's fingers hook into the crotch of my panties and yank them roughly aside, exposing me completely. Two thick fingers slide through my folds, parting me, then push inside without warning. He curls them up and presses firmly. Just presses. I’m hooked. My pelvis starts to gyrate, easing down harder against his two fingers. A low moan parts my lips and I take a second to clear my head.

I reach between us with shaking hands, fumbling his belt open. His pants drop just enough for me to free his cock.

He's rock-hard, velvet-smooth skin stretched tight over throbbing heat, the thick vein pulsing against my palm as I stroke him root to tip. Precum beads at the slit, smearing hot and sticky over my fingers.

"Vivian…"

"Now," I whisper, voice cracking with pure, frantic need. "Fuck me right now. I need your cock filling me up. Please, Matthew."

He doesn't make me beg twice. Those large hands grip my thighs, lifting me effortlessly until my back scrapes the wall and my legs lock tight around his waist. The blunt, fat head of his cock nudges my entrance, teasing through my slickness before he thrusts up into me in one long, inexorable stroke.

Oh my God.

The stretch is exquisite—burning, perfect, so full I have to sink my teeth into the meat of his shoulder to choke back a moan. He's buried to the hilt, balls pressed tight against me, the coarse hair at his base grinding against my clit.

It feels so freaking good.

His hips snap forward hard and fast. Every thrust punches deep, dragging over every sensitive nerve inside me until my toes curl.

"You've been driving me fucking insane all night," he growls against my neck. "This dress clinging to your ass. Everything about you makes me so hard, Vivian. So hard I can't think straight."

I'm an incoherent mess, but those words make me clench around his thickness until he curses.

"You're going to wreck me, Vivian. This tight pussy is going to ruin me."

He changes his angle, driving up so the head of his cock grinds against that sweet, sweet spot inside. My thighs start to tremble uncontrollably as I snake a hand between us and tease my clit.

"Fuck, just like that, Vivian. Squeeze me."

"Oh God. Oh God, Matthew. Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop."

Pleasure hits, rolling through my body in a powerful wave, leaving me sated and spent.

Matthew follows right behind me with a guttural groan, his thrusts becoming uncoordinated. Hot, thick spurts of his come flood me, sliding down my ass.