Chapter 15 #2
“Your chest is bare.” His eyes were locked on my torso, which I’d waxed about a week before.
“I keep things neat and tidy. I don’t have a particularly hairy chest in the first place, so it’s pretty easy to maintain.”
“Mine is basically the opposite. Is that going to bother you? Do guys like other guys to be smooth?” He’d gone from dominant to hesitant in the blink of an eye, and I rushed to reassure him.
“Some do,” I answered honestly. In fact, most of the guys I tended to sleep with were smooth like me. But I liked that Matthew was different. “Some prefer hairy guys. Some don’t care either way.”
“What do you prefer?”
I moved closer, gently pulling his hand up to rest on my chest. His palm was warm and the contrast to the cooler air in the apartment had goosebumps skittering along my skin. “I prefer you.”
Tentatively, I reached forward and began to slowly undo the buttons of his flannel. “Is this okay?” I asked, praying he said yes.
He nodded, and I continued working my way down his shirt, exposing a few inches at a time.
When I got to his waistband, I tugged the tails up, unbuttoned the last button, and pushed the top of his shirt over his shoulders, exposing his torso completely.
He hadn’t been wrong. A thick layer of salt-and-pepper hair lined his chest and trailed down the center of his abdomen.
“Can I touch you?” I asked, itching to run my fingers through all that hair.
He nodded, and I reached forward, sliding my fingertips through the thick patch of hair right above his sternum. He shivered at the contact. “This goes both ways, you know. You can explore my body. I told you, I’m yours for the rest of the week.”
We began to move our hands at the same time, his fingers trailing down my sternum as mine slid upward through the thick pelt of hair on his chest. Unable to resist myself, I added my other hand, slowly running both hands up his pecs, over his shoulders, and back down to where I’d started.
“I love the way you feel—” I cut off on a giggle, involuntarily stepping back as his hands traced my ribs with a feather-light touch. “Shit. I’m ticklish.”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to . . .”
“It’s okay.” I smiled, stepping back into his space and pulling both of his hands back up to my chest. “I think it was just how lightly you were touching me. You’re not going to hurt me if you use a little more pressure.
” I laid my hands overtop of his and moved them slowly down my abdomen and back up. “Mmm. Just like that.”
I let go, watching his eyes as he explored on his own. He’d been so closed off when I’d met him—shit, was that just a few days ago?—but I was starting to learn the different nuances in his expression. Right now, he was looking at me in wonder, as if he’d discovered a new treasure.
“What do you think? Doing okay?” I trusted him to tell me if he needed a break, or if anything was too much, but his lack of speech was making me feel self-conscious.
His eyes flicked to mine, then back down to my chest. “It’s . . . different. Not bad, just . . . different.” He flicked a thumb across my nipple, and I hissed, causing him to freeze.
“It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting that, and I have very sensitive nipples. You can do it again if you want.”
He flicked the other nipple, and though I was prepared this time, I still couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped.
I loved nipple play, but I hadn’t been kidding when I’d told him they were sensitive.
There was a hitch in his movement, but then he did it again and, unable to help myself, I reached my hand out and traced my thumb over his nipple. “What about you? Do you like it?”
His eyes flashed to mine, blue eyes darkening almost to black. I did it again, flicking both of them at the same time and watching his face for a reaction. Matthew let out a growl, then surprised me by yanking me forward and slamming his mouth down on mine.
The assault of his mouth combined with the feel of his chest hair abrading my skin had a ball of white-hot lust burning through my system like a comet.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him against me, meeting the thrust of his tongue with my own voracious assault.
His hands swept up and down my back as I gripped his hips and held on, not knowing what was next, only knowing that I wanted more.
Teasing exploration gave way to an inferno of need.
His hands landed on my shoulders and squeezed, holding me in place.
I grabbed his ass, pulling his groin into mine, desperate to feel every part of him against every part of me.
The size of his bulge pressed against me was worth noting.
God, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on that thick cock.
To hold the weight of it in my hand, or better yet, to feel it resting on my tongue.
My thoughts were interrupted—in fact, all thoughts fled—when he rolled his hips into me, that thick bulge scraping against mine. As his tongue continued its assault, his hands slid from my shoulders down to my ass, and he squeezed, kneading my flesh through the denim.
He emitted a sound of frustration and then tore his mouth from mine, muttering something about too many clothes, and before I knew it, he was unbuttoning my jeans and lowering the zipper.
I watched in fascination as the man who’d fled my apartment in a panic just a couple of days ago was now sliding my pants over my hips and letting them fall to the floor.
So much had changed in that short amount of time.
I could only hope he wouldn’t have regrets later.
He’d just told me he thought he’d regret not exploring this with me, but I couldn’t quite put the thought out of my mind that this was happening so fast. Especially for someone who’d given me the impression that he wasn’t overly fond of change, and rarely made a move without giving it plenty of thought first.
He slid the tip of his first finger beneath the waistband of my briefs and his eyes flicked to mine. “Can I?” He released a heavy breath as if it was a burden to him. “I think I want to see you.”
The vulnerability in his eyes nearly undid me.
He was asking my permission, but I thought a little bit of that question was for himself as well.
Somehow, that hesitation reassured me more than anything else.
He wasn’t barreling forward riding a lust-fueled current without thought.
Oh, he was definitely riding that wave, but at least I now knew his brain was engaged as well.
With my eyes locked on his, I gave him a nod of affirmation. His gaze dropped, and he began slowly drawing the waistband down.