The look on his face said I would pay for that bit of cheek later. Maybe not tonight, but definitely in the future. He said nothing, took my hand, and led me down the short hallway to his bedroom.
I had only a moment to take in the small but tidy space, furnished with a sturdy-looking bed and a dresser, before Matthew took my face in his hands and planted his lips on mine in a fierce, possessive kiss. He broke away far too soon, and I tripped over my feet trying to follow his mouth with my own.
He put his hands on my shoulders to steady me and commanded, “Stay there. Close your eyes. Deep breaths.”
My body obeyed, even as my brain wanted to ask questions. Thankfully, I was quick enough to realize if I wanted to break my epic dry spell and have hot, dirty, kinky sex with this man, my body had the right idea.
“Good girl,” he whispered, brushing my ear with his lips as he stepped behind me. I wanted to spend the rest of my life doing whatever it took for him to keep calling me that. “We are going to take this very, very slowly. If you need me to stop or slow down, you tell me. Okay?”
We could stop any time. We could take a break. It was up to me. “Okay.”
“Arms up.” He lifted my shirt over my head with infuriating slowness, dropped it to the floor, and lifted his hands to unhook my bra.
“Arms down.” He slid the straps over my biceps, grazing my skin with his fingertips. I shivered and broke out in goose bumps as my bra hit the floor. He pressed me closer to him, tucking me against his hips as he reached around, took my breasts in his palms, and rolled my nipples between his long, elegant fingers.
With my eyes closed and his hands wreaking sweet havoc, I didn’t have time to feel self-conscious about standing half-naked in his bedroom. My head dropped back against his chest and I sighed. “Fuck, that feels good.”
His mouth curled in my hair. “It’s supposed to, sweet girl. You have such gorgeous tits.”
As he said it, his hands moved away, down over my belly to the waistband of my skirt. He skimmed around the edge of the fabric where it met my skin before pulling it down over my hips to pool on the floor at my feet, leaving me in only my uncomfortably damp underwear.
“Open your eyes, go to the bed. Lie down, face up, and put your arms above your head. Don’t move.”
The speed with which I rushed to comply would have surprised me if I hadn’t been so focused on imagining what was coming next. My whole body vibrated with anticipation and nerves.
“Eager, are we?” His voice held no small hint of amusement.
“You could say that, Mat-sir.” I stuttered over his name and used the honorific without thinking. Not to be a smartass, but because for some reason, it sounded right. He was never Matt to me, but “sir” was better even than Matthew now that I was mostly naked in his bed
Matthew hummed in approval. “I think I might have you call me sir, after all.” He still wasn’t touching me, and I couldn’t contain myself. I wriggled my hips and pressed my thighs together, desperate to do something, anything, that might stem the ache growing between my legs.
Matthew gave me a light swat on the hip, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to get my attention. “Settle down,” he growled. Not helping, sir. Warm hands engulfed my left foot and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Ticklish?”
“Very.”
He gripped my heel with one hand and with the other laid a firm smack on the arch. The sensation tracked straight from my foot, up my leg, to my throbbing clit. I moaned and pushed against his grip, wordlessly begging for him to do it again.
“Did you like that?” I nodded and pressed my foot into his hand again. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy torturing your pretty, little feet later,” he said with a patently evil grin. “But right now…” He trailed off as his hands snaked up my calf to my thigh. I arched my hips to meet him, but he pulled away with only the barest brush of his knuckles against my sex.
He gently lowered my leg to the bed, picked up my other foot, lifted it to his mouth, and bit down on my big toe. It was only a nibble, but the foreign sensation sent ripples of undeniable pleasure coursing through me.
His hands started up my leg, accompanied by his mouth, licking, kissing, and nipping along the trail his fingers blazed toward my pussy. I whimpered and moaned under his assault. I was fairly certain a single well-placed touch or flick of his tongue between my legs would be enough to send me over the edge. And he totally knew it. He bypassed my pussy entirely and worked his hands and his mouth around my hips, across my belly, to my breasts. He pulled my nipple between his lips, sucking hard before he bit down.
“Oh dear sweet Jesus lord god, yes.” I felt him smile against my skin. “Oh god, that was out loud, wasn’t it?” I clapped my hands over my mouth and he lifted his head from my breast, laughing.
He peeled my hands from my face and put them back over my head, pinning me by the wrists with one hand. “As cute as that is,” he scowled down at me, “stop it.”
Hysterical laughter bubbled up from my belly, but before it had a chance to escape my lips, Matthew drew back his free hand and smacked my tit. Hard. The laughter died, replaced by a stinging, buzzing heat that pooled and clenched and made me moan and writhe. The sensation of the slight pain and pleasure mixing pulled me out of my head and into my body.
“Good girl. Now keep talking. I want you noisy. I need to know what you like, what feels good, and what doesn’t,” he whispered. “Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you need to take a break?”
“No. Don’t stop. Please.”
He returned his attention to my breasts. He licked, sucked, and bit with his teeth and his tongue. He squeezed, pinched, cupped, and rolled with his clever fingers. A few more times he slapped with his open palm and nearly made me come without having laid a single finger on my pussy. I was a writhing, wriggling, panting, moaning, wet, sweaty mess, and we hadn’t even made it past second base.
I was getting desperate when he finally, finally, thank all the gods in all the heavens, slipped a hand into my panties. Even then, he teased. He traced me with his fingertips, learning me by feel. He skated around my clit, not giving me the direct pressure I was begging for with every barely conscious move of my hips. I moaned in pleasure and frustration, and he pulled his hand from my panties and gave me a swift pop on the hip.
“I promise, you will come when I am good and ready for you to and not before. Do you understand, Jolene?”
The low, feral tone in his voice made me lose the power of speech. I whimpered and nodded.
“Use words, Jolene. Do.” Pop. “You.” Pop. “Under.” Pop. “Stand?” Pop.
I shuddered convulsively. “Yes, sir,” I croaked.
“Good girl.” He rose to his knees and grabbed the waistband of my underwear. “Lift your hips.” I lifted, and he slid my panties down my legs and tossed them over his shoulder to the floor.
He stood at the foot of his bed. I raised my head to ogle him while he pulled off his T-shirt. My imagination may have been vivid, but it hadn’t done him justice. Matthew was lean and toned, his arms and shoulders well-muscled for a guy who spent most of his time in a lab. He had a dusting of dark hair on his chest and along his flat stomach. It concentrated into a line below his navel, leading to the spot between his narrow hips where his fingers were busy unfastening the button of his jeans and pulling down the zipper. I was transfixed watching him slowly undress himself, biting my lip in anticipation of the big reveal.
Finally, Matthew stood naked before me. I licked my lips, hoping I would get to spend some time exploring his body the way he had mine. He was all long lines and sharp angles. I wanted to learn him, inch by inch. And I wanted his cock in my mouth with a fervor I’d never felt before. Standing out flushed and full from the dark curls at the base, I wanted to wrap my lips around his thickness and pull him in, slide my tongue along the ridge at the smooth head and trace the vein down the underside. I wanted to feel him pulse in my mouth while I sucked him, and I wanted to taste his come in the back of my throat. I had no idea what he had planned for me next, but this was something I understood. I could bring him pleasure and take mine in the heady thrill of the knife edge of power and vulnerability in having his cock in my mouth. I knew how to do that much.
My train of thought must have been plain on my face. Matthew came around to the side of the bed and ordered me to come closer.
“Is this what you want?” He stroked himself, a few inches from my ready mouth.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He gently cupped the back of my head with one hand and guided his cock between my lips with the other.
The musky smell of him, the salty taste of precome, and the smooth, heavy feel of him in my mouth sent a fresh wave of wetness and heat coursing between my legs. I licked, sucked, and stroked around the crown before taking in as much of his length as I could. A brief pang of self-consciousness made my rhythm falter, but Matthew hummed and made generally approving, pleased noises as I continued to explore him with my lips and tongue.
He ran his fingers through my hair and applied gentle pressure, muttering soft encouragement, to coax me into the rhythm he wanted. After a minute or two, he pulled me back. I looked up at him, afraid I had done something wrong, and saw only lust in his eyes. He led me to the middle of the bed.
“I did promise to fuck you senseless.”
I blushed, and he stroked my hair before he reached into the nightstand to pull out a condom. He sheathed himself quickly and eased my thighs apart. I tensed, suddenly afraid that after so long I might as well be a virgin again. Fucking me senseless might not work out the way we both wanted it to. He leaned down, pushed a lock of hair back from my face and cupped my cheek.
“What’s wrong?”
I cringed, embarrassment competing with arousal. “It’s been kind of a really long time.”
“Thank you for telling me.” He kissed me between the eyes. His voice was gentle, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “We’ll go slow.”
“Thank you,” I whispered right before he fit his mouth over mine and kissed me as he began to slowly, slowly push into me. When he was fully seated, he stilled, giving my body time to stretch and adjust to the unaccustomed fullness.
“Jesus, you are tight,” he groaned and pressed his forehead to mine.
“Sorry?”
“Don’t be, sweet girl.” His body tensed as he struggled to stay still. “Fuck, you feel good.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist and raised my hips, silently giving him the okay. He rocked into me, barely moving at first. He teased and tormented me with every slide of his cock, making me writhe and wriggle and beg for more, harder, faster.
He grabbed my hips and rolled us so I was on top, though he ceded only the bare minimum of control. He kept a tight grip on me and snapped his hips up to meet mine while I leaned over his chest and steadied myself with one hand on his shoulder and the other on the headboard. A litany of incomprehensible babble and cursing flooded from my mouth when he shifted a hand to run the pad of his thumb over my clit.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, so close. Please, please, please.” My voice sounded strained, needy, and foreign to my own ears.
Matthew sat up under me, lifted me up, and flipped me onto my back with my head hanging off the foot of the bed without missing a stroke. All semblance of gentleness and restraint flew out the window as he knelt up between my legs and thrust hard into me.
I propped my feet on the mattress and met him, skin slapping, his hip bones bruising against the softer swell of my flesh. Every nerve ending in my body was on fire, making a trail to where our bodies joined, building steadily and inexorably.
“Is this what you wanted, Jolene?” he panted.
Hearing his heavy, erratic breath, knowing he was close to losing it only brought me that much closer. “Fuck. Yes, sir.”
“Good. Come for me. Now, Jolene.”
He reached between us and strummed my clit again, kicking me over that ledge and I came harder than I could ever remember. It shuddered through me all the way down to my toes, my eyes rolled back into my head, and I’m fairly certain I screamed.
I was so lost, I barely noticed when Matthew thrust hard, groaned, and collapsed on top of me. We lay there, panting, skin to skin, while aftershocks made me clench and whimper. The weight of him on my chest steadied me while I slowly came down to earth, and I resisted when he started to pull out of me.
“Let go, sweet girl. I’ll be right back,” he whispered and kissed my forehead before he got up and padded to the bathroom.
Watching him walk away was admittedly a fair trade for losing the weight of him against me, and I grinned like an idiot to myself. I stretched out on his bed, my body limp, spent, sore, and sated in a way I hadn’t ever felt. My only thoughts were blessedly focused on the sensations still rippling through me, the faint throb and sting where he’d sucked and bit my skin, the warmth at my hips from his hands, the stretch between my legs.
My head lolled to the side to watch Matthew stride back into the room. I was flooded with a sudden fierce possessiveness of the beautiful, naked man who climbed back into his bed with me. He eased me up to the head of the bed and into his arms, tucked me into that perfect nook between his neck and his shoulder, and wrapped the covers around us.
My limbs were still boneless and rubbery, but my brain started retreating from my body, coming awake, poking at me. Not content to bask in the afterglow of, let’s face it, the best sex I’d ever had, the hamster wheel tried to whir to life. To categorize, to process, and probably to ruin the experience. My mind had been almost entirely, blissfully quiet from the moment he slapped my breast and ordered me to tell him what felt good. Now that it was over, my brain struggled to take back the control I’d given up.
Matthew squeezed me and kissed the top of my head. “What’s wrong, Jolene?”
“Hmm? Nothing,” I lied. No need for him to get to know the anxiety hamsters. Not yet.
“You’re thinking so hard it’s practically audible, sweet girl. Tell me.” A moment ago, his voice had been soft, sleepy, and coaxing. That I could resist.
When he turned commanding on me, I was apparently powerless not to obey. I wanted to answer, needed to answer him. The problem was I hadn’t begun to wrap my brain around what I was feeling, let alone find the words for it. And I didn’t want to. I wanted a few more hours of this quiet before I ruined it. He stroked my hair, his touch gentle and reassuring, waiting for me to find my voice.
“I don’t know,” I whispered into his chest. “I feel like my brain dribbled out of my ears somewhere back there.”
He snorted softly into my hair. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He slid out from under me and turned to face me. “I know it’s a lot to take in. Give yourself some time and we can talk through it, but right now, we both should get some sleep. Can you do that?” I nodded, and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and gently kissed me. “Good girl.”
He turned me over and gathered me to his chest, spooning me while he stroked my arm and pressed kisses to the nape of my neck, lulling me. “Sleep now, sweet girl.” A gentle command and the one I needed the most. I drifted off feeling safe and calm wrapped up with this man I barely knew.