Matt kisses me like he wants to eat me alive. Thunder crashes outside the windows as he drags me into his lap, sucking, nipping, biting. I can barely keep up, my heart hammering in my chest as he sucks on my tongue.
“I kissed Kenta like,” I tip my head back as he presses his mouth to my throat, “literally ten minutes ago.”
“Lucky bastard,” he mutters, licking a line down the side of my neck. “Don’t worry; he’s used to sharing.”
“I’m quite partial to it, too.”
“Not tonight, you aren’t.” He slips a hand under the waistband of my joggers, and I shiver in anticipation as his rough fingertips trace over my abdomen. “Take these off.”
I do, shucking off the grey material, revealing my pink lace underwear. He smooths his hands down my thighs, following the curves all the way to my calves. “You’re so soft,” he says, his voice grating. “How are you this soft?”
“You want my skincare routine?”
He drops to his knees and trails his nose up the inside of my thigh. I fight the urge to clamp my legs shut as he buries his face into my damp lace panties, inhaling deeply. His low groan vibrates right through my core.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t call the others?” I tease, forcing myself to keep my breathing even. “I’m sure Kenta would love to join us, right now—”
His eyes flash. “No. Tonight, you’re mine.”
“Yours?”
He stares at me for a moment, jaw working as he runs his eyes over my face. Then he grabs me by the hips and lifts me off the bed, spinning me up against the wall. I gasp as his hot body brackets mine, a wall of muscle pressing me in place as he rubs his thumb down the seam of my underwear.
“By the time I’m done with you,” he whispers in my ear, watching me squirm as I try to get some friction from the lace, “You’re going to wish you were.”
I open my mouth, but before I can say anything, he hooks an arm under each thigh and lifts me right off the soft carpet, pinning me to the wall with his hips. I choke, automatically winding my legs around his waist as he thrusts forward, grinding me up against the pretty gold wallpaper. My mouth falls open. I don’t think I’ve been dry-humped since I was a teenager. I don’t remember it feeling this good. My shoulders twitch and my toes curl as tingles prick through me.
“Kiss me,” I demand. He does, in time with his steady rolling thrusts, and I moan, wrapping my fingers in his hair, pulling his face hard into mine. His mouth feels perfect. I could kiss him until I ran out of air completely. I would die happy in his arms.
Eventually, he pulls away panting, freeing one of his arms and sliding his hand back up between my thighs. He starts to play with the little bow on the front of my pants. I shudder as blood thunders between my legs.
“So soft,” he says again, his voice low.
“Glad you like them. I’ll tweet the company your review. Now take them off,” I order.
“Take what off?” He rolls his hips again, and I moan as the bulge in his pants rubs right between my legs.
I could scream. “Are you thick? Don’t they have IQ tests for the army?”
“I got 145,” he informs me. “I could join a high IQ society. If I was a twat.”
“Take off my underwear, idiot.” I shunt my hips against his, trying to wriggle out of them myself.
“What, these?” He ghosts his fingers over my pants. I jerk my hips, but I can’t get enough friction. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“They’re pretty.” He slicks his fingers over the sodden fabric, making me squirm.
I snort, shivering all over. “You can have them.”
“Well, in that case, princess—” He hooks his finger under the panties and tugs them right off me, bundling them in his palm and rubbing his thumb into the creamy wetness soaking the lace. “I’ll treasure them forever,” he says drily, tossing them onto his nightstand. I start to complain, but he reaches up and finally runs his fingers between my slick folds.
I arch, my vision going black. “Matt,” I choke, heaving for air.
I can feel him getting breathless, too. “Christ,” he mutters. “You’ve been driving me mad.”
“Yeah?”
“Ever since I walked in on you with that toy inside yourself. Jesus.” He touches his forehead to mine, panting. The muscles in his arms quiver, veins popping out as he holds me upright and keeps stroking between my legs. “I thought,” he dips his head and sucks a kiss on my neck, “I thought it would get better with time, but it’s just getting worse. Every day, it’s getting worse. I can barely think when I’m near you.” He puts his mouth by my ear, tickling my oversensitive skin, and slides a finger into me. I cry out and dig my fingernails into his scalp, making him growl. “My body doesn’t even feel right without yours anymore.”
I don’t know what to say, so I just kiss him again, sloppily, my chest hitching every other breath. He curls his finger inside me. I’m getting desperate now. I keep rubbing against him, slamming my pelvis against the heel of his hand. Sweat wets the back of my hair. The insides of my thighs are hot and sticky. Oh, God, I need to come so bad. I can feel it starting to happen as I begin to shake around him.
He kisses me back, groaning into my open mouth. “Gonna come?”
I nod, and he groans again, hiking me up higher against the wall, pressing his hot, muscled body completely against me. He crooks his finger as he thrusts it inside me, and I tip over the edge. All my nerves electrify, and I jolt in his arms, crying out. It washes over me, this burning wave of heat that swallows me up and crashes over my head. I gasp like I’m drowning. He holds me up against him, strong arms around me. His thumb keeps rubbing roughly against my hood, and I shudder from the overstimulation as I gasp back to reality. He apparently likes that a lot; he adds a second finger and just keeps going, ignoring me when I grab at his arm. “Matt!”
“Briar!” He mocks.
I fight the urge to kick him. “Enough. Put me down.”
He presses his hot cheek to mine. “We’re not done.”
I take a shuddery breath as he keeps massaging my G-spot. Tingles fizzle deep inside me. “B-but I came.”
“One more,” he breathes, hot air touching my ear. “I need one more.”
“I…” I don’t think I can do it. He flutters his fingers inside of me, sending stars bursting behind my eyes. I arch, rubbing against his chest. “I’m going to kill you.”
“Many have tried. Come, Briar.”
Before I even know what’s happening, my body spasms again, clenching around him, and I just keep coming, gasping, shaking against him all over again. I hide my face in his shoulder, tears shocking into my eyes as he adds a third finger and plunges in deep, wringing the pleasure right out of me.
Eventually, the contractions subside, and all my muscles go soft and weak. I turn my face to meet his, still panting, and he kisses the side of my open mouth.
“Good girl,” he roughs out.
Rage suddenly flares up in me. “What the Hell did you just call me—”
He grasps my shoulders and shoves me onto the bed. I fall back onto the soft quilt, and he climbs on top of me, unbuckling his belt and shucking off his dress pants. I can feel the heavy weight of his erection pressing into my belly as he grabs the hem of my shirt and tugs it off over my head. He sits back on his haunches for a second, devouring the sight of my naked breasts spilling across my chest.
“I called you a good girl,” he says quietly, then dips his head and licks a line down my cleavage.
“I’m not,” I gasp, running my hand over the hard bulge in his boxers, “a damn,” I grab the waistband, slipping my fingertips under the elastic, “dog.”
I yank his underwear down. He’s hard and thick and flushed, even bigger than I imagined. I reach forward and run my fingers down his length, feeling the velvety texture of his skin. When I rub my thumb under the head, he twitches, jumping in my hand. Matt growls, pushing my hand away and pinning it to the bed. When I reach for him with my other hand, he pins that one down too, leaning forward so his naked chest is pressed up against mine.
“No, princess,” he rasps, nudging his nose against mine. “You’re a very sweet, good girl.”
I bite his cheek, and he throws his head back and laughs, his white teeth gleaming. It might be the first time I’ve seen him genuinely laugh. It’s mesmerising. His whole face lights up, like he’s full of neon. I can barely look away.
“Do you have something,” I choke out.
He drops to his knees and pulls his black suitcase out from under the bed, rooting around inside. I melt in relief as he pulls out a little foil square. Thank God.
“You carry that around with you?” I try to look unimpressed and not relieved. “Pretty desperate.”
He rolls the condom on. “I’m big on protection.”
I snort, then yelp as he picks me up again and carries me across the room.
“What do you have against beds, you madman?”
He presses a kiss to my lips, then slams me up against the floor-to-ceiling window. I gasp as the freezing cold glass presses against my overheated skin.
“You said you preferred the view,” he points out, sucking the side of my throat.
“I’m going to get arrested for indecent exposure,” I mumble, tipping my head back to give him better access. “The glass—”
“It’s one-way. No one can see.” I whimper as he grinds down on me.
“Who has sex against a window? Is this a kink?” I cast around my brain. “Or is it the storm? I bet th-that’s a thing, stormophilia.”
“Fulgarophilia,” he mutters against my neck. “No, I do not have it.”
“Then how do you know what it’s called?!”
“IQ of 145,” he reminds me, his hands clutching at my waist as he pushes me harder against the glass.
I scoff, “Admit it. Thunder gets you hard. It’s okay, I won’t kink shame you. God, I bet the Thor movies really got you going, huh—”
“Stop talking,” he mutters, guiding the swollen head of his cock to my entrance. I bite my lips as he teases it between my legs.
“Please. If you want a silent, compliant shag, you should’ve picked someone else.”
He growls, presses his lips to my forehead, and pushes into me.
I didn’t have to be worried about his size. I’m so desperate for him that he slides into me easily, filling me deeply. I lean my head back against the glass, closing my eyes. “Oh.”
He rests his forehead against mine for a second, breathing hard. Thunder rattles the windows.
“Are you turned on,” I whisper, as the sound fades away. “That was a big one.”
He snorts and thrusts, hissing through his teeth. “I need this.”
“Me too,” I breathe, pulling his mouth back to mine. The room is splashed full of light as we start to rock together. I’m making noises like I’m crying into his broad shoulder. He nips at my neck and changes the angle. A tugging, tingling ache starts to build, deep in my belly. I grind against him faster, but it’s not enough. Matt keeps rolling his hips, deep and slick and perfect, and with every thrust, the hot tingling gets more and more unbearable. I grind up harder, rubbing myself against him, but I can’t reach it. My arms strain by my sides, pinned against the cold windowpane. I need to touch myself.
“Matt… I can’t.”
“Can’t what?” He pants, his breath hot against my cheek.
“Can’t come from just p-ah.” He bites my bottom lip savagely, and I arch under him. “Penetration,” I finish on a gasp, kicking his leg. “I need you to touch me, asshole. What, you never shagged a girl before?”
“No,” he says flatly. “I’m a virgin. Couldn’t you tell?”
I squirm, rutting up into him. The feeling in my belly gets bigger and bigger. Matt frees one hand and slides his palm teasingly down my stomach, tickling his fingers through my damp curls. I buck, but he doesn’t go lower.
“G-go on, then,” I prompt. “Touch me.”
The room splashes with white light again. Matt’s face illuminates, and my mouth falls open. He looks stunning like this, with the sharp contours of his face drawn starkly in light and shadow.
He looks me dead in the eye. “No. I don’t think I will.”
