They end up on the couch–at least, Matt ends up on the couch. Victoria settles down between his legs, fingers curling against the denim-clad thighs. She looks up at him, eyes filled with hope, with love, and it makes something almost wild wake up in Matt's chest.

 

He's harsher now than he ever has been before grabbing her by the hair, pulling her closer. “Come on, Tori. You can do things better, right? Show me you meant what you said. Show me you don't want anyone else.”

 

“I don't,” she insists, voice strained just a little bit. Her dainty hands run up the insides of Matt's thighs, finally settling on the zipper for his jeans. It's not familiar, not yet, but it isn't foreign, either.

 

She tugs it down with as much confidence as she can, unhooks the button, and slips a hand into the opening of his boxers.

 

Matt takes a shuddering breath and spreads his legs a little wider. “Don't fuck around,” he urges.

 

“I’m just not good at this,” laughs Victoria. She looks up at Matt, lips peeling back into a perfect smile.

 

“You’ll get better,” insists Matt. “It’s just going to take a little bit of practice. You should be practicing now, you know. Come on, you open up that lovely mouth of yours, and I’ll teach you something special.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Something I’ll really love.”

 

“Is it…difficult?”

 

She tightens her grip on Matt’s cock, just a little. Matt is well-endowed, in the best sort of ways. His cock is long but not ridiculously so, just thick enough that it fits comfortably in her loosely curled hand.

 

Her grip grows tight as she starts working over his shaft. The lack of lube leaves her palm catching on the skin in spots, but it's quickly taken care of, with a few rubs over his flared head, by Matt's own pre-cum.

 

Another sigh, louder this time. Matt manages, “Is this it? Come on, Tori. Don't you want to learn something special?”

 

“I do! I'm just nervous,” says Victoria, twisting her wrist. The pads of her fingers slide off the veined skin and slip up to press against the underside of his head.

 

Matt shifts forward on the couch to shove his pants and boxers down his hips. They bunch up around bent knees. “Give me a hand getting those off?” Matt grins at her, sure and full of himself.

 

Victoria rolls her eyes but agrees. Dainty hands help pull off his boots and socks. They tug down jeans and boxers, then rest neatly on Matt's knees. “Like this?”

 

“I don't think that's what I have in mind,” says Matt. He's about to protest even more, but the words come out as a low moan when Victoria takes hold of his dick again and shifts her grip, fingers brushing over his balls.

 

Victoria's smile is coy. “I'm nervous, Matt. Help me some?”

 

“You need more than just a little bit of help.” Matt threads his fingers through Victoria's hair again. It's fine and soft, such a pale gold that the bright light almost makes it seem white.

 

Victoria snorts but leans down to press a single kiss against Matt's dripping tip. She looks up at him from under heavy lashes, and then she licks her lips.

 

The grip on her hair grows white-knuckled tight. Matt snorts back at her, but his grin doesn't lessen, even a little bit. “Come on,” he urges. “Let's see how much better you've gotten.”

 

“You say that like I've gotten any practice.”

 

“Haven't you?”

 

Victoria huffs. “I told you, I didn't sleep with him. I went home when things started getting weird. I promise you, Matt. I would never cheat on you.”

 

Cheat on him.

 

The words resonate in Matt's chest, heady and thick. They curl in his lungs like the best sort of smoke, like something that he's never going to be able to shake free from. It's a cage, but it's also something more. It's that bit of freedom and comfort he's always been looking for. It's knowing that, even though the world is a mess, something nice waiting for him.

 

Matt thought that's what he had with his ex, Emily. He thought she was his light, his reason to stay out of the darker aspects of the world that often fell down upon the shoulders of a motorcycle club. Gun running and drug dealing, things of that nature—Matt had ignored them in favor of Emily, trying to make sure she never had to get that awful knock on the door.

 

After she left, things seemed dark. Things got closed in and hard to deal with. But Victoria makes things look a little bit easier. She makes life a little less dark. And that's a hard thing for a man like Matt to understand.

 

He lets go of Victoria's hair in favor of brushing knuckles against her cheek. “Cheat on me?”

 

“Never,” insists Victoria.

 

Matt's other hand settles on the nape of Victoria's neck. “We have to be together for you to cheat on me.”

 

“Aren't we together? I know that first night, it was just...it was just sex. I'm not stupid. I understand that, no matter how sheltered I might seem. But then you came back, and you came tonight, too. Doesn't that mean we're more than just a one-time fling?”

 

It does.

 

Matt has a hard time answering her. The words are stilted and rough. “Do you want it to be more?”

 

“Desperately,” admits Victoria. “I would desperately like it to be more than just a one chance thing. And…it's okay, I suppose, if it's not. I love being around you, Matt. If all you're interested in is this, these moments, I'm okay with that. I just don't want to miss seeing you.”

 

“You're not going to see me once you go back to England.”

 

“I don't want to go back to England.”

 

“You're getting married to that duke,” says Matt. “And you're going to go back home to…where is it?”

 

Victoria gives a little laugh. “Vertsea. It's a small country. Not very many Americans have heard of us.”

 

“And everyone's still lined up here to see you,” snorts Matt. “Because that makes total fucking sense. If you aren't even a big shot, why the fuck does anyone care?”

 

“I don't know,” admits Victoria. “They just do. People like the glitz and glamor, I suppose. They like to pretend they're on our level.”

 

Matt snorts. He stands up, suddenly. His hands stay in Victoria's hair, keeping her from standing up, his dick inches from her face, red and straining. “Oh, sweet cheeks, I know I'm not on your level. But that's not what I meant. I mean you're a bit of a whore. Going out looking to get fucked by some stranger at a bar; how much sluttier can you get?”

 

Victoria's cheeks go red. “It wasn't a one-person affair, Matt. You were involved, too. You're the one that took me home!”

 

“You were practically begging me for it,” says Matt dismissively. Emotions are hard for him to deal with. He'd much rather focus on something more physical, on showing Victoria that status doesn't matter to him, that things don't hinge on her status as princess.

 

“I was not,” huffs Victoria. Any other protest is cut off by Matt pushing against the back of Victoria's head, forcing it forward. Her words are cut off by the sudden pressure of a thick dick in her mouth, forcing her jaw open and her tongue down.

 

There's no moment of hesitation, no slow start. Matt uses Victoria's hair as leverage and starts fucking into her mouth like it's a fleshlight picked up cheap at a discount sex shop. Each buck and twist of his hips forces his cock farther down her throat, leaving her gagging and gasping. It only takes a matter of moments before there are tears in the corner of her eyes, before her fingers are scrabbling at Matt's hips.

 

She doesn't want to push him away, but she doesn't want to hold him close, either. She just wants to touch him. Matt keeps a firm grip on her hair; this is something different than before. It's not quick and senseless like their first night together, but it's not a slow thing like their second.

 

This is flesh and passion and endless desire. Matt fucks her like he's come unhinged, until pleasure coils tight in his gut, until the sounds coming from his mouth are low, guttural, and spilling out like water from a sieve.

 

And then, when it's just about too much to bear and the whole world feels unsteady, he uses Victoria's hair to throw her backwards. The young princess hits the ground, hard. Matt takes hold of his own cock, jacking himself off furiously. It only takes a few twists of his palm before he's cumming. Thick, white spurts land on the front of Victoria's dress, on her throat. He groans, loud and low, more for her benefit that anything else. “Fuck, Tori. Do you see what you do to me? Do you see how crazy you make me?”

 

Victoria's makeup is ruined. Dark smears lay under her eyes, and the lipstick has been scrubbed off her spit-swollen lips. She looks like someone who’s just been thoroughly fucked, and Matt loves it.

 

“You're so fucking innocent looking,” continues Matt, crouching down to kneel over the princess. His knees press against the floor, and one hand steadies himself on her shoulder. “There's nothing better than watching you fall into something filthy.”

 

Victoria lets out a wanton moan. Her head falls back, thwacking against the floor. Her mouth is open, chest heaving as she gasps for breath.

 

“That's exactly what I mean,” says Matt, only slightly out of breath himself. He's no stranger to sex, and he's no stranger to lasting longer than his partners. In fact, sometimes there's something utterly amazing about being the only one with any common sense about them.

 

Victoria’s not completely out of it, though. She's just tired and a touch overwhelmed. Her hands settle on Matt's hips. “What do you mean?”

 

“You, right now. You look like a goddamn princess.”

 

“I am a princess.”

 

“You're a princess about to get fucked. How great is that? I'm about to get a bit of royal pussy. Do you know how many men would fight for something like this? But not me.” Matt folds over Victoria, lets his cum and spit-slicked cock rub over her chest. The fabric sends sparks of pleasure down his spine. “No, I don't have to fight for it at all. You're just content to give it to me. You're content to let me fuck you whenever I want. I bet you'd be content to let me fuck you however I want, too, huh?”

 

Victoria lets out another little moan. The words do something to her; her face is burning hot, fingers fluttering against the small of his back. “Yes,” she says, voice little more than air. “Yes, Matt. Whatever you wanted—you can do whatever you want.”

 

“Good,” says Matt, voice low and rough. “Because I wasn't asking for your permission.”