Chapter 4 #2
His hand drags up my thigh as he shoves my dress higher, and his fingers brush the soaked edge of my lace panties. My own arousal coats his fingertips as he teases along my folds, circling my taut bud.
The thought of stopping now feels physically painful, like my body would revolt if he pulled away.
Matthew's fingers hook into the crotch of my panties and yank them roughly aside, exposing me completely. Two thick fingers slide through my folds, parting me, then push inside without warning. He curls them up and presses firmly. Just presses. I’m hooked.
My pelvis starts to gyrate, easing down harder against his two fingers.
A low moan parts my lips and I take a second to clear my head.
I reach between us with shaking hands, fumbling his belt open. His pants drop just enough for me to free his cock.
He's rock-hard, velvet-smooth skin stretched tight over throbbing heat, the thick vein pulsing against my palm as I stroke him root to tip. Precum beads at the slit, smearing hot and sticky over my fingers.
"Vivian…"
"Now," I whisper, voice cracking with pure, frantic need. "Fuck me right now. I need your cock filling me up. Please, Matthew."
He doesn't make me beg twice. Those large hands grip my thighs, lifting me effortlessly until my back scrapes the wall and my legs lock tight around his waist. The blunt, fat head of his cock nudges my entrance, teasing through my slickness before he thrusts up into me in one long, inexorable stroke.
Oh my God.
The stretch is exquisite—burning, perfect, so full I have to sink my teeth into the meat of his shoulder to choke back a moan. He's buried to the hilt, balls pressed tight against me, the coarse hair at his base grinding against my clit.
It feels so freaking good.
His hips snap forward hard and fast. Every thrust punches deep, dragging over every sensitive nerve inside me until my toes curl.
"You've been driving me fucking insane all night," he growls against my neck. "This dress clinging to your ass. Everything about you makes me so hard, Vivian. So hard I can't think straight."
I'm an incoherent mess, but those words make me clench around his thickness until he curses.
"You're going to wreck me, Vivian. This tight pussy is going to ruin me."
He changes his angle, driving up so the head of his cock grinds against that sweet, sweet spot inside. My thighs start to tremble uncontrollably as I snake a hand between us and tease my clit.
"Fuck, just like that, Vivian. Squeeze me."
"Oh God. Oh God, Matthew. Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop."
Pleasure hits, rolling through my body in a powerful wave, leaving me sated and spent.
Matthew follows right behind me with a guttural groan, his thrusts becoming uncoordinated. Hot, thick spurts of his come flood me, sliding down my ass.
My limbs are boneless when he finally eases me down, his hands steady on my waist as the world tilts. I smooth my dress with trembling fingers while he tucks himself away, the wet slide of his release trickling down my thigh, a filthy reminder I'll feel for hours.
In the mirror, I look utterly wrecked—hair a mess, lips bee-stung and red, eyes glassy with satisfaction. The evidence of what we just did is written all over me.
"I look like I just had sex in a bathroom," I say.
"You did just have sex in a bathroom."
"Yes, but usually the goal is to hide that fact."
He steps in close again, fingers gentle as they tilt my chin up. The kiss this time is slower, deeper as he molds his lips to mine. He pulls back, only to graze his mouth along my cheek.
"I'm not letting you go, Vivian."
Next morning, I'm five steps from Matthew's office door with two coffees when I hear his voice suddenly rise in volume. He snaps. His tone is flat, clipped. Nothing like the man who traces lazy circles on my hip at 2 a.m.
"That's not my problem anymore, Caroline. It stopped being my problem the day you decided honesty wasn't worth the effort."
I’m hearing one side of his phone conversation. I don't catch the full gist. I don't need to.
"No." Matthew again, colder than I've ever heard him, even in that first meeting when he didn't know my name. "We're done talking about this."
I back away before he sees me, coffee cups shaking in my hands. I tell myself it's not my business. I tell myself people have exes, people have history, that's not a crime.
But I can't stop hearing it. That voice. His voice. The one he's never once used on me.
Yet.
I knock, nervously. Suddenly move cautious than usual. I enter his office and he swivels unnervingly; a little too flustered and out eyes meet.
"Coffee," I state the obvious, holding out both cups.
"Ah, thanks." Matthew says, closing his laptop. "Talk to me."
"Um, nope, got nothing in particular. You good? I overheard you on the phone just now."
"Oh, just Caroline, remember, you met her last night." I set my cup down harder than I mean to.
"Oh, yes. Sounded like a problem. Not my business, but I hope you’re okay."
He doesn't flinch, which somehow makes it worse. "She hurt someone I care about. I don't forgive that easily."
His eyes turn steely. He avoids my gaze. Reaches out and picks up his coffee.
That's not an answer. I take it as a warning. My mind races ahead, thoughts pin-balling. But one thought hammers at me, what happens when it's me?
For once, neither of us has a smooth line ready.