Chapter Seventeen

We move toward each other as though we’re drawn by some irresistible force. He cups my face between his warm, dry hands and slants his mouth over mine.

The kiss is languid, our lips exploring each other. Despite the leisurely pace, there is hot intensity seething underneath because we both know exactly where we’re headed.

As we indulge in the prelude to what’s to come, I flatten my small palms over his pecs, then curl my fingers against the sprinkling of hair. I love the way his taut skin feels and the way he grows more aggressive, as though he can’t get enough of me—because I can’t get enough of him either. My heart thunders as I run my fingertips lightly across his nipples. A low moan growls in his throat, sending a pulse of lust through me.

He cradles the base of my skull, his hand threading through and fisting into my unbound hair. I gasp, then softly breathe in the warm air between us. I lick his mouth and feel the glide of his tongue against mine. He tastes like minty toothpaste with a hint of fiery liquor. It’s headier than any alcohol I’ve ever had. His skin smells like the best kind of perfume, all Matt with a hint of soap from the shower. It turns me on so much, I don’t think I’ll ever look at soap the same way again.

His mouth still on mine, he skims his hand along the soft slope of my shoulder, then lets his fingers linger on the sensitive spot at the hollow of my neck. My body goes pliant like warm wax.

He grazes along the delicate line of my jaw. “You’re so responsive, so perfect.” He presses his lips on the pulse beating at my neck.

My palm rests over his heart, and I feel it thundering boom boom boom. My own pulse spikes to match it.

I press forward, pushing my bare breasts against him with a soft sigh. My nipples are pointed and hard, and they throb almost painfully against his chest. Shamelessly, I rub them against him, loving the hot liquid pleasure each drag and pull sends through me.

“Yes. I love the way you use my body to make yourself feel good,” he says in a low growl, taking one plump mound in his hand. It feels shockingly hot against my sensitive skin, and I gasp. He kneads it gently, but avoids the hardened, aching tip. I push it into him in an offering.

“Do you want me to play with your nipples, Jan?”

“Yes,” I answer breathlessly. “Yes, yes, yes.”

He brushes his fingertips along the bountiful swell, then runs his thumb across. Anticipation thickens in my veins, and I can barely breathe, my chest rising and falling fast.

His gaze intent, he pinches the nipple lightly between his forefinger and thumb, then tugs. The slight pain sweetens the bliss coursing through me, pooling in hot, sticky arousal between my thighs.

He leans forward, and my nipple vanishes into his mouth. I let my head fall back, gripping his hair and clasping him tightly to me. His tongue knows exactly how to flick, his cheeks know exactly how much to hollow, and his mouth knows exactly how to drive me crazy with lust. Desperate little noises spill from my throat, and I love the way he adjusts the pressure to maximize my pleasure.

He doesn’t let my other breast stay neglected. His hand kneads it, toying with its throbbing tip.

Finally he pulls away from my nipple with a loud pop. It’s wet, rosy and pointed. He groans at the sight and flicks his tongue over it again before treating the other breast to the same lavish attention.

I’m lost in the syrupy delight, and he runs the back of his fingers down my soft belly, then follows the path with his tongue and lips and teeth.

“You’re delicious all over,” he rasps against my navel, his breaths hot on my skin. “All woman and need. I can smell your arousal.”

I flush, a little embarrassed.

“Don’t be shy. You smell amazing. Musky and sweet and all that is marvelously you.” He presses a kiss right on my pubic bone. “I want the taste of your pussy on my tongue again.”

God. It makes me quiver because his tongue is like magic down there, but… “You already did that yesterday.” Besides, doesn’t he want to do the intercourse? I thought I was pretty clear about what we were doing…

He laughs against my belly. “Jan, we can have everything. I want it all.”

“Except anal,” I blurt out, my fingers digging into his shoulders. I haven’t even done normal vaginal sex, and there’s no way I’m okay with anal before the more…traditional stuff first.

His eyes gleam as he looks at me. “Okay.” Standing up, he says, “Wrap your legs around me.”

And I do. He cradles my ass. The position opens me up, and his cock rests between my slick folds. It’s hard, pulsing against me. I tingle all over, and my toes curl. He moves us to the dining table where we had our first dinner date and sets me at the edge. I rest my palms behind me to prop myself up and look at him, my cheeks hot as anticipation sends delicious sparks along my spine. He gazes at me, his eyes dark and intense. I know I’m the sole focus of his attention, and it’s so erotic I can barely sit still.

He wraps his big, strong hands around the top of my feet and runs his thumbs along the arches. Holy cow, that feels amazing, and I sigh softly.

“Pink,” he muses.

“What?”

“Your toenails.” He grins. “I had dirty thoughts involving your feet this morning when I saw you.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I’m not sure about toe sucking.” Not that I’ve ever done it, but the idea doesn’t get my body temperature shooting up.

He laughs, his eyes bright. “Are you going to say your safe word now?”

“Um. No.” I nibble on my lip. “Just stating my preference.”

“For your information, that isn’t my fetish.” He puts a bit more pressure on the arches, and I feel my eyelids go heavier. He seems to know exactly where I need the force. “I was thinking more along the lines of using them to spread you open wide, then tossing ’em over my shoulders while I slide into your wet pussy.”

I flush because this thing he’s saying? Yeah. I like that. A lot.

“And it’s not just your feet I’ve been fantasizing about.”

“What else?” I ask breathlessly.

“Your breasts. They’re so pretty, perfectly shaped and sized. When I first saw them, my mind went blank for a moment. The first time it’s happened since puberty. Last night, while I was jerking off, I thought about fucking your tits.”

My clit throbs. I’ve never thought hearing a guy talk about jacking off to me would be hot, but when it’s Matt talking about having me star in his fantasy? Instant inferno.

“Then imagining my cum all over your chest made me hard again, so I did it again.”

“To the same fantasy?”

He shakes his head. “In your mouth. Then between your ass cheeks. Everything dirty and debauched.”

“We can do all of it,” I say in a pant. I want to do all those dirty and debauched things with him. “Tonight.”

“No. All that’s for me. This time is for you, to make you feel pampered and well-fucked and thoroughly satisfied.”

He wraps his hands around my ankles and spreads me wide. I should be embarrassed, but I’m not, not when I spot clear liquid beading at the tip of his cock. He nibbles along one leg, from the sensitive spot right between my ankle and heel, tracing the curve of my calf to the delicate and slightly ticklish skin behind my knee, and he lavishes the same attention on the other leg. Then it’s the same from my knees up, his breath hot and arousing on my thighs.

“Hurry,” I whisper.

“I won’t be rushed.”

“You’re killing me.”

“The last time we did this, I didn’t get a chance to explore every delicious inch of you. I’m going to indulge myself now.” He sucks on a soft, sensitive point only a few inches away from where I want him to go.

A long, low moan tears from my throat. The table underneath me is probably getting soaked. I feel vaguely like I should be embarrassed about that, except I’m too turned on to feel anything but a searing need for Matt.

He places my legs over his shoulders, one hand behind each knee. Impatient, I lift my hips, and he laughs darkly before placing his mouth where I want it the most.

His tongue flicks over my clit, and I shove a fist into my mouth as a white-hot bolt of pleasure streaks through me.

He pulls back. “Let me hear you, Jan. If you must do something with your hands, play with your tits.” He waits until I drop my fist, then returns to eating me out. He uses his tongue and lips, knowing exactly where to lick, where to flick and where to lap me up to drive me insane.

The pleasure builds, but he’s not giving it quite enough pressure to push me over. He uses his fingers to part my lips as wide as possible, making me hopeful he’s going to really push it, but he merely intensifies his teasing.

“Please, please, please,” I beg, my breathing erratic.

I’m feeling so achy and empty inside, and the sensation is only growing bigger and more unbearable. Desperate, I use my free hand to cup one breast and tug at the nipple like he told me to. The slight pain hypersensitizes me, but it’s not enough to give me the release I want.

Nearly mindless, I say, “I’m playing with my breast, but I need more, Matt. Please.”

He rumbles deep against my flesh, the vibration drawing a keen cry from me. I’m so, so close, and I chase my orgasm shamelessly. He draws my clit into his mouth hard and plunges a thick finger inside. I clench around it. He pulls it out, then thrusts in again, curling it slightly so it bumps against a spot in my pussy that makes my eyes roll back.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I chant breathlessly, pinching my nipple hard.

He puts two fingers in, stretching me. It feels so good, and when he scrapes my clit delicately with his teeth, I scream my orgasm, my entire body clenching.

He stands and kisses me hard, smothering my scream. He tastes like me, but underneath that is all him. I dig my fingers into his hair and ravish his mouth. Although the orgasm was spectacular, the emptiness inside me throbs more painfully than ever before and I want this man now.

“Love the way you taste when you come,” he growls. “One day I’m going to watch you play with your pretty tits and pussy.”

“Only if you promise you’ll return the favor because I want to see you make yourself feel good and tell me what dirty things you think of.”

“Deal.” He gives me another hard kiss, then pulls out a condom from his shorts pocket. When I cock an eyebrow, he winks. “I was hopeful when I saw you marching over from the window. I was debating whether to go over to your place or let my palm do the work again tonight.”

That’s hot. And surprisingly sweet. I kiss him on the tip of his nose, then on his mouth. “Just hurry.”

He puts the rubber on himself with swift efficiency before placing his hands on my knees and spreading me. He runs a finger along my folds, slips his thumb into my pussy. “You’re so damn tight.”

And he’s huge. “But it’s going to fit.” I’m pretty sure it will, because I heard some people even enjoying fisting—not me obviously—and as large as Matt is, he isn’t bigger than a fist.

He smirks. “Of course it’s going to fit. I just need to stretch you a bit and make sure you’re ready.”

“I’m ready.” My body’s revving to go, the pleasure from the recent orgasm humming through me.

Laughing wickedly and wrapping a hand around my hair, he tilts my head for a deep, lush kiss, while he uses his fingers to prepare me. His concern is sweet, although he shouldn’t have worried since the feeling of being filled is pleasurable. I feel like my body’s turning into bliss-goo. I squirm, wanting his cock inside me.

I don’t know how long we kiss, but I’m so wet between my legs, I can feel the slick warmth on my thighs. He finally pulls back and licks his fingers clean. “Yum,” he says appreciatively.

I pout. “So unfair. I don’t have anything to taste.” My gaze drops to his condom-clad cock.

He groans. “Later. I promise.” He spreads my legs wider, then positions the tip of his dick at the entrance of my pussy.

My breathing shallows, my heartbeat uneven. This is it. And I’m doing it with a guy I like. A guy who likes me back.

“Watch us,” he says, then pushes in an inch and slowly pulls out.

“God,” I whimper.

He does it again, each time going deeper. I love his patience, the intense concentration in his gaze as though this moment is the most important one in his life. Watching his shaft disappear into me is super erotic. Although he prepped me with his fingers, having the real thing inside feels completely different. It’s more intimate. Hotter. Way thicker. My muscles adjust, and I’m so slick, it isn’t that difficult for him to enter me. Even the slight burning sensation that starts merely highlights the pleasure of having him inching his way into my pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, so hot,” he says gutturally, sweat beading on his skin.

“You make me wet.” I moan, watching his shaft pull out, feeling the delicious friction against my inner walls. I’m beyond embarrassment. The only thing I care about is making him feel amazing. Even though he said this was for me, I wouldn’t have a good time if he didn’t. “Fuck me, Matt. I want your dick inside me so bad.”

Swearing, he pulls almost all the way out, then plunges in hard, his balls slapping against my skin. I cry out. I expected pain—I’d have to be living in a cave not to know it hurts the first time—but this is kind of stunning.

“Jan,” Matt says, his eyes searching mine. “Is this your first time?”

My lips pressed tightly, I nod. “But it’s okay. It didn’t hurt that much.”

“You should’ve said something.”

Something like regret flashes through his gaze, and I stiffen. I have his hard cock buried deep in my pussy, and the last thing I want to see is regret on his face, damn it.

“Why?” I demand.

He dries a single tear on my cheek that I didn’t realize was there. “Because your first time should’ve been on a bed, not a dining room table.”

I instantly go back to being gooey because he’s being so damn sweet. This has to be the reason I’ve fallen for him, his ability to be dirty and caring at the same time. “Would doing it on a bed make it feel better? Because I don’t think I can get any wetter.”

“Jan…”

“I didn’t tell you, so you couldn’t have known. Unless Virginia has an obscure law banning defloration on dining room tables, it wasn’t illegal. You would know that, wouldn’t you? You’re a lawyer.”

He groans, then laughs softly. “You say the damnedest things at times.”

I clench around him. “Less talk, more fucking, counselor.”

He hisses, but instead of pounding into me like I thought, he kisses me. His hands roam all over my skin, petting me and stroking me, setting every inch they touch on fire. His cock is still inside, hard as steel, but he doesn’t do anything with it, using only his lips, tongue, teeth and hands to drive me insane.

And I was wrong earlier. I do get wetter. I’m embarrassingly, utterly soaked.

I pull back from the kiss to whisper, “Please, Matt. You said you’d make me feel well-fucked.”

His hands flex over my lower back, and his breathing grows rough. “Damn it, Jan.”

“Make me feel well-fucked,” I whisper into his ear.

And I know I’ve broken his control the moment he lets out a rough shout and starts driving into me over and over again. I love the way he feels, the way he owns my body, takes care of me. He doesn’t just slide into me, but maneuvers his hand between our bodies so he can flick a finger across my clit, sending fiery jolts of bliss through me with every bump.

I hook my ankles behind him, my fingers digging into his shoulders and my head falling back. An unbearable tension winds up inside me, but I want to hold onto this moment, make it go on and on. Matt cups my breast and rolls the pointed tip between his fingers, then pinches it as he plunges one more time and rubs hard against my clit.

The most intense orgasm of my life erupts, leaving me too breathless to scream even though my mouth is open and my throat is straining. He bucks against me a final time, then comes with a deep groan.

When we’ve both caught our breath, he carries me up to his bedroom. After setting me on his bed, he gets a washcloth and wipes me clean. I’m feeling too good and languid to be embarrassed. Maybe in a day or two.

“Did I bleed?” I ask idly.

“A little.”

I open one eye and look at him. He’s scowling at the washcloth. “It’ll come out,” I say.

“It’s not that.”

Maybe he’s never done it with a virgin before, and he’s discomfited by the sight of blood. I want to tell him women bleed a lot more than that once a month, but that’s TMI. So I give him an impish smile instead. “We should do it again.”

“But not tonight,” he says, still frowning. Then he chucks the washcloth into the bathroom.

“I thought there were other things we were supposed to be able to do. Something about dirty, debauched fantasies…”

He mock groans. “You’re going to be the death of me. I’ve created a monster. A sexy and insatiable monster.”

I giggle. “Now that I’ve had a taste of what we can have, I want it all.”

He kisses me on the forehead. “So do I.” He pulls me closer, pulling a sheet over us, and we cuddle together.

As my mind drifts to sleep, I realize he didn’t use any of the condoms I brought. Hmm. But it’s probably okay. I trust him to provide a good rubber himself. I hold onto him tighter, feeling more content than I ever have.