Chapter Twenty-Three
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Matthew was no longer smiling by the time we pulled into my driveway.
He killed the engine of my truck, the kind of silence that preceded a storm pouring into the vehicle, making the air thick with the smell of rain, the anticipation of what was coming, making my heart pound.
“Matthew?” I called softly. Making sure he didn’t miss my question. “Are you going to kiss me?”
“Yes.”
A flutter broke on my chest. “When?”
“The second I’m sure I won’t end up fucking you inside this truck.”
My belly dropped, that delicious anticipation building up. “Why?”
Matthew’s eyelids shut.
“My truck is big enough,” I continued, leaning toward him. Just a little, just enough. He made a sound in his throat. “And I don’t think I’ve ever done it in a back seat.” His hands moved to the steering wheel, fingers clasping around it, leather squeaking. “What if I want to? With you. What if I want you to kiss me, then fuck me here?”
His eyes reopened, jaw clamping down. “What if I want to give you something better than that?” He glanced at me, the brown in his eyes seemingly darkening, the creases of tension around his mouth pleading with me. “What if I feel like I’ve already gotten carried away? What if I don’t like that the first time I made you come I wasn’t touching you? What if I hate that the first time I touched you, I wasn’t able to hear or see your mouth move around my name? What if I wasn’t planning on doing this tonight, and now I’m wondering if it’s the right time?”
There was a moment. A pause.
I didn’t breathe.
Then he spoke, “What if I can’t give you any fucking firsts, so I want to make sure I get a chance at being your last?”
My chest expanded. That emotion I’d held throughout the day swelled, making it hard to contain. My hand reached out to cup his jaw. Matthew leaned into my touch. My smile made his eyes light up. “Come inside?” I said. “Please.”
He frowned, but I didn’t waste time. I turned in my seat, determined to make it okay for him, to make it possible for him to give me all those things, even when all I wanted was him.
When I pushed the passenger door open and my feet hit the ground, Matthew was somehow there. The dazed look on his face made my smile even bigger. Even more determined. He offered me his hand, and when I clasped it in mine it was me who pulled. I led him inside the house. Then up the stairs. Then down the hallway. Then inside my room. I ignored all the tingles spreading all the way across my body from that hand held so tightly, and led him where he’d stood earlier tonight, right before we left for that disastrous dinner.
“Here,” I finally said, watching his eyes go crazy as they bounced between me and what was behind my back. His expression turned fierce, devastated, almost as if he wanted to scream or fall on his knees. “You once told me that perfection is subjective. Remember?” He didn’t nod or shake his head, but I continued anyway. “This moment, right here, right now, is perfect for me.” My lips fell, all that wrangle of emotion and tingles and anticipation came to a soft stall. “And that’s because you’re in it. That’s because it’s you. Only you. I don’t care about firsts when I have you.”
Time seemed to halt for a moment, it was less than a heartbeat, nothing more than a fraction of a second.
Then Matthew’s mouth was on mine. Hungry. Desperate. Hands clasping both sides of my face, holding me to him, as if I was going to run away or disappear. I moaned into the kiss, melting, feeling like I was going to slip away, right between his fingers.
The thought had me bringing my arms around his neck, slipping my hands into his hair, fisting those locks that reminded me so much of the sun painted on my wall. Joy and need surged, meshing in my belly, making me slant my lips, changing the kiss, making it greedy. Our tongues touched and I pulled at his hair. Matthew groaned in response, deep in his throat. The only warning before his arms shifted and we were moving.
My back clashed against the wall.
One of his hands remained along my face, the other one pushing down, over the fabric of my dress. Collarbone, breast, ribs, waist, hip, it went, the roughness of its weight pulling at the sateen. I wanted out of it, the dress, I wanted that touch on my skin, on me. His fingers moved, traveling down my backside, over my ass. Setting up camp right under my thigh.
He pulled my leg up in a brisk motion, then rested his weight against my hips.
I moaned into his mouth, making him come up for air just so he could say, “Fuck.”
“Yes,” I agreed, panting. Breathing all over the place.
Matthew’s hum was appraising, content, eager. And when his teeth closed over my bottom lip, my eyelids fluttered shut with a shudder.
His mouth returned, this time softer, slower, but making the kiss more intent. Making sure it stayed with him. Me. Tattooing himself on my lips.
“You think I make this moment perfect?” he asked, mouth moving away, words falling on my jaw. I started to nod, but his grip on my leg changed, fingers spreading. He opened me wider, pushing his hips further in. A loud moan escaped. “You think you can be all sweet and soft and call me perfect?”
I reopened my eyes, just so I could see him when I said, “Yes.”
Matthew smiled, and it was big and cocky and dark, all swollen lips and lipstick smudged over his skin. I knew in that moment. I simply knew. I’d never wanted a smile—a man—more than I did him. I’d never loved like I did him.
The thought made me so breathless I gasped for the air eluding me.
Matthew’s expression darkened, reading me. He kissed me again. Hard. Harder than earlier. Harder than I’d ever been kissed.
In the next beat, his hands were releasing my leg and face, and I was flipped around.
My palms fell flat on the wall.
Matthew’s chuckle brushed the skin on my temple. I shuddered, blood swirling downward, pooling. “I love this dress on you, did I say that?” My eyes shut again, senses shorting, overwhelmed. I nodded, and his hands slipped between my hair and the back of my neck. I felt him push it aside, gently, the gesture almost reverent. His fingers returned to the top of my spine, then trailed down the buttons lining the seam. “I do love it on you, Josie,” he continued. “But I hope you’re not too attached to it, because I have no patience for these.”
The rip of the buttons echoed in the room.
My lips parted with a silent plea. Just take it off. I need you now.
“Was that too rough, Baby Blue?” Matthew asked me, voice low and serious, hands bracing on both sides of my head as my cheek rested on the wall. “Am I being too much?”
I was panting too hard to speak, the need gathering between my legs, too overwhelming as it pulsed to the beat of the pounding of my heart. Where were his hands? I wanted them on me again. I wanted Matthew on me. In me. I—
“Josie?” My name, off Matthew’s lips, fell on my hair, followed by a press of his mouth. It was so distracting. He was so distracting. All of him overruled all of me. I was at his mercy and I didn’t even care. His hands clasped my wrists, softly, slowly dragging my palms down the wall and lowering my arms. He pulled at the fabric of my dress, just enough that I felt the sleeves pool around my elbows, the opening at the back letting the air in the room kiss my back. The fabric of my panties cooled against my skin. “Am I too rough? Am I too blunt? Is this too much?”
“No,” I finally managed to say. My dress slipped even lower, the opening exposing the backs of my thighs too. “Rough is good. It feels good. You’re perfect.”
“Wrong.” He swatted at my ass. “I’m perfect for you.”
A moan fell from my lips. Followed by a broken, “Oh my God.” He’d really done that. And I— That had been so good, so—
“Say it for me, Josie,” he whispered, arms snaking around my waist gently, softly, bringing me into his chest. He placed a kiss on the side of my neck. “Let me hear the words.”
“You’re perfect for me,” I whispered.
I felt his approval on my back, his grunt pleased, satiated, and so fucking happy that it made my insides melt.
His palms descended. “This is what I wanted to do the moment I saw you in front of this wall.” I dipped my chin, watching his hands as they dragged the dress hanging off my elbows down. “My sweet fucking girl,” he said against my cheek as I let my arms fall. The material pooled at our feet. “So fucking beautiful.”
Before I could make sense of how his words made me feel, or how he should be touching me now that I stood there in my bra and panties, Matthew’s body was descending.
“Let’s see if I can make you smile a little wider still,” he said, hands landing on my hips. His breath fell at the small of my back. The warmth of his palms on my skin, finally, making me gasp for air. Fingers tugged at the waistband, just slightly, just enough. I felt the flicker of a touch, dragging down the curve of my ass. What a tease this man was. What a—
Matthew’s palms closed around my inner thighs, opening my stance wider from his spot on the floor behind me.
“Hands back on the wall,” he grunted.
My palms pressed against the wall. He pressed his lips over the silk. One gentle kiss right on the spot that barely stung from his hand anymore. My body arched. I started shaking. All over. “Matthew?” I panted. “I’m so wet right now. I’m so—”
He turned me back around. I didn’t even know how. And I didn’t really care.
I glanced down.
Matthew was on his knees, hands braced on my thighs, looking up at me through those goddamn glasses I loved so much. And I— He looked at me so reverently, so hungrily, like he’d been in the dark for ages and he couldn’t get enough warmth and sunlight on his skin. It made me want to burn in return. Burn as I stood here, under his gaze.
“I can’t decide,” Matthew said. “I can’t decide how I want to have you.” His voice strained. “Eat you. Fuck you against this wall. Have you ride my face. Take you on the bed. Fill that tub up and beg you to let me come all over your back?”
My throat worked around the plea tearing at me. God, yes. Please. “Have me every way,” I said. And when his jaw clamped down and his eyes darkened, it emboldened me. I planted the sole of the heel I was still wearing on his knee, opening up. Inviting him. Offering him a place to start. “We have all the time.”
Matthew’s hesitation was immediately gone. His expression turned feral. Then he surged with a grunt, flexing my leg and opening me even wider. I felt this breath through the fabric, making more need pool down, raising the pulsing between my thighs, pushing my heart faster. He tucked the fabric to the side with a labored exhale, as if he was battling whether to waste time taking them off. Air hit me, making all that urgency ring louder. Right into a high pitch. Then he pressed a kiss. I moaned, melting against him.
His mouth was slow at first, determined but tentative, exerting little moans from me. “You’re drenched,” he said. Rasped. Growled. I wasn’t sure.
Because Matthew’s caution was gone and now he was devouring me. My knee wobbled, and he used a palm to stabilize me. To secure me against the wall as he grunted against my folds, tongue dipping, lips closing around—
“Oh God, Matthew,” I whimpered. I was already spasming. Tipping over the edge. “I’m so close. I can’t believe—”
His hand joined in, thumb closing over my clit.
My hands braced on his head, searching for support and… and release. My fingers closed around his hair and I pulled him closer. Sensation twirling. Swinging. “Matthew?”
His tongue dipped inside me, mouth still moving, hand working around the sensitive nub that was sending wave after wave of delicious pressure up my body. He did something with his lips, and I moaned loudly, dipping my chin so I could see him. Brown eyes met me as he came up for air, mouth glinting with the mess I was making of him. “You’re going to come?”
I nodded my head, barely able to breathe with his hand still moving and him looking at me like I was making his life for letting him kneel in front of me.
“Then come, sweet Josie,” he said, the motions of his wrist changing. “Ride my face a little harder.” His other hand joined, big fingers poking at my entrance. “Give me a little scream so I can fuck you.”
His mouth descended, replacing those fingers with his tongue and I—
Screamed. Just like he asked. Although it wasn’t little, and it was three words, “Oh shit, Matthew.” I was sure they’d been heard all over town. But I couldn’t give a damn when my knees were buckling, my back arching, and all of me ceasing to exist. The world ceased to exist, dragged by wave after wave of pleasure and… happiness.
Joy. Love. Release.
It was Matthew’s laugh on my temple that made me realize I was in his arms and we were moving. He placed me on the bed, and I looked up, finding him taking a step back, eyes never leaving me.
“That’s my new favorite,” he said, softness and lust tugging at his voice. “You’re Oh, shit, Matthew smile.” My lips went even higher. His gaze kept doing passes up and down my body. “Never seen something so beautiful.”
I went up on my elbows, pursed my lips in a pout I hoped he found cute. “Are you talking about my boobs again? I know you like’em, but I have a face.”
His eyes creased at the corners with amusement, but when he spoke, his voice was serious. “Smug looks pretty on you.” The way he met my gaze made my belly flutter again. The flapping doubling when he started making quick work of the buttons of his shirt. I didn’t even know when he’d gotten rid of the blazer. “Let’s see how smug you are when I have you on your back.” Pop. Pop. Pop. The shirt opened, revealing all hard planes of golden skin. Hard stomach. Those dents on his hips. My heart raced. “Or when I flip you on your belly and you feel my weight over you.”
My throat dried at the sight of him, the words, the need resurfacing in my bloodstream. I scrambled to my knees, coming to a sitting position. Matthew tilted his head and he smirked. I really loved that smirk. I loved the words that came out of him. I’d always liked a sprinkle of dirty talk, but Matthew was filthy. And I loved what it did to me. I loved that he knew exactly what to say, exactly how to say it. I loved that he was able to make sure I wanted his touch and his words without me having to say a word. I loved that he was sweet and funny and clever and the way he never thought there was something wrong with me. I loved that he’d waited this long to kiss me. I loved that he wanted to give me things he couldn’t. And God, I loved his smiles almost as much as I loved that he was obsessed with mine.
I… I loved all of him.
I’d fallen in love with Matthew.
And I didn’t think it was new, born of this moment. I knew I already had before leading him upstairs.
“Matthew?” I called, as if he wasn’t in front of me. My voice was odd, rocky, filled with emotion and realization and the enormity of what I just allowed myself to finally admit. Finally. Because it wasn’t new. I’d had clues. Hints. I’d known I was falling. This is what I always did. I fell fast. Had this been too fast? Matthew’s body froze, the shirt falling to the floor.
His gaze sharpened.
“Get over here,” he said. “Now, Josie.”
I moved to the edge of the bed, where he stood bare-chested in his dress pants. His hands clasped my face the moment I got there. He pulled me up, so our faces lined up. “I know,” he murmured on my mouth. He brushed his lips on my jaw. Chin. Cheek. “I know.” His teeth grazed my bottom lip, then he kissed me. “I got you, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”
I’m not going anywhere.
I couldn’t figure out why, but the words rang inside me, making me want to cling to him. Just to make sure he stayed. I was the one who kissed him then, pulling at his shoulders and dragging him down with me. We both fell on the bed, his weight heavenly on top of me, making me feel so alive, so secure, so safe. My hands traveled down his arms, wandering, struggling to find a place to set up camp. Shoulders, arms, chest, stomach. I wanted to touch all of him. I pulled at his belt, greedily, and he moaned into my mouth. His hands braced on both sides of my head as he pulled himself up. He panted into my mouth.
Selfishly, I pulled at the buckle of his belt, studying his face as I worked it loose, taking pleasure in how his eyes went half-mast when I let my pinkies brush the hardness pressing against the dark fabric of his pants. Once undone, I unbuttoned him. God, I could already feel his heat in my hands, I could tell he was already so big just based on the bulge.
I unzipped him in one motion, and his jaw clamped down. My hands tugged at his pants, almost forcefully, almost out of control, revealing dark briefs. Biting my lip, I slipped my fingers into the elastic, slowly, dragging my nails over the skin of his lower stomach. Just a little. Just enough to tease.
Matthew hissed a breath.
I let my nails brush over his length, emboldened. Coming out of my skin with how good it felt to hold this much power over him.
“You’re going to get a nice spank on that ass if you don’t stop being mean,” he told me, a promise in his voice.
My blood swooshed down with excitement, the ring of his words making me want to be meaner still. But I was too on edge already. I was too impatient and I needed him too much. As soon as possible wasn’t soon enough. So I gave him my sweetest smile and finally got his briefs out of the way. A breath caught at the sight of him springing free.
“Give me a stroke, baby,” he whispered. Pleaded with me. “Just one, before I lose myself.”
My hands were immediately around his length, hard, scorching hot, bigger than I’d ever had, and I was giving him what he asked for. We whimpered at the same time, mouths clashing with the same selfish urge. I gave him a second one, and when he grunted, I stroked him a third time. His arms flexed, his hips thrusting into my fist.
“Need you,” I told him, demand lacing my voice. “Inside. Now.”
Matthew’s body was ripped away from me, and suddenly he was on his haunches. “Condom,” he said. “Where?”
“Birth control,” I shot back, realizing we weren’t wasting time on words. Realizing my underwear was still on. I tugged at the clasp of my bra. “I want you.” My attempt didn’t work. “I want you inside. I—”
I was flipped on my belly.
Matthew’s body came over me, his mouth at my ear, his length nestled in my ass. “You’ll want what I give you.”
The moan that left me was outrageously loud.
His arms closed around my waist, pulling my ass up. “I haven’t been with anyone in a long while. Are you sure about not using a condom?”
“Good,” I whispered, a bite of jealousy in my voice. “You’re my fiancé.”
The sound that left him was halfway between a growl and a laugh. I felt him stroking himself, his fist brushing my skin as he let out a little grunt. “And you’re mine to do with as I please.”
“Yes.”
He removed my panties, planting kisses on my spine, then positioned himself at my back. His hand clasped one of mine, bringing it between my thighs. “Keep your hand there. I want you to feel me.”
Before I could know what he meant, Matthew was entering me in one swift, hard thrust that flattened me into the mattress. A loud whimper ricocheted. Mine, his. Probably both.
“How does that feel, baby?” he asked me, pulling back slowly before thrusting back in.
I closed my free hand around the duvet. “So full. So—”
“Perfect,” he finished for me, his hips pistoning in one more time. “For you. Say it.”
“For me,” I breathed out. I squeezed his hand, the one still between my thighs. My nails dug at his skin, the pleasure swirling inside me becoming too much, more powerful, more overwhelming, dizzying, more perfect still. “Just for me.”
I felt him pull out of me, turning my body slowly this time. With a cadence that made my chest tight. When he lowered himself over my body, slipping back inside me with one slow, torturous thrust, he was looking into my eyes. I swallowed a moan. “Look at you,” he whispered in my mouth, his next thrust harder than the last. “Taking me so beautifully. Can’t wait to see this every fucking day of my life.”
The words triggered an explosion inside me. My eyes shut, and I started spiraling. My bra was pulled down, and his lips were closing around a nipple. I croaked something, a word, something like yes, or please, or— He nipped at the peak again, following it with a rough push of his hips.
“Let go, Josie,” he demanded. Another thrust. “Let go so I can make a mess of you.”
My lips popped open, but before anything left them, Matthew was pulling my hips up with one hand while the other one flew to my clit. I opened my eyes and it was the sight of him, with everything else, that made it for me. Pleasure rose, peaking, propelling me into the sun. “Matthew,” I whimpered, burning, an emotion filling my chest as I rode the crest.
Matthew slipping out was the only thing anchoring me back. “I’m pulling out, baby.” He fisted himself. “I’m making that mess.” His words were nothing but a growl, and his hand barely had a chance to move before he was coming all over me.
“Mine, Josie. You’re mine. Say you’ll have me.”
I didn’t know how my brain was computing anything at all, but I knew I’d never heard or seen anything more erotic than Matthew on his knees, panting, his hardness wet from being inside me, hand on my hip, and his spent covering my skin.
I reached out, pulling him back on top of me, basking in the way his weight felt against me. Matthew’s arms went around my body, and when he rolled us on our sides, I pressed my mouth into his skin, right above his heart.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have anyone else but you,” I told him.
And I meant it. With every ounce of my soul.
What worried me was whether I’d be able to show him.