Chapter 35 Hudson
HUDSON
Matty had me caged under him, his mouth hot and relentless, kissing me like he meant to swallow the breath out of my lungs.
His weight pinned me deep into the mattress, every inch of him solid and heavy and mine.
I couldn’t stop the sounds tumbling out of me—low groans, whimpers, gasps—because God, the man knew how to kiss.
His thigh pressed between mine, grinding up into me until I was arching, chasing him without thought.
I ran my hands everywhere, over the broad span of his shoulders, down his back, and gripped the curve of his ass to drag him tighter against me.
When I squeezed, he hissed into my mouth, then bit my lip in payback, making me cry out and laugh at the same time.
“Clothes off,” I panted against his mouth.
He didn’t need telling twice. He shoved my shirt up, broke the kiss just long enough to yank it over my head, then went back in, teeth scraping my jaw, tongue wet and demanding.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Hud.”
“Right back at you, babe.”
I fumbled at my buttons, desperate, and cursed when they slipped under my fingers.
“I’ve got it.” His voice was a rough growl, but his hands were at my jeans, undoing me in record time.
I dragged his shirt open, buttons scattering somewhere across the floor.
His chest was hot under my palms, muscles flexing as he moved.
I pushed him back so I could look, admire, then leaned up and kissed across the line of his throat to the hollow between his pecs.
He groaned, dropping his head, hair falling into his face as he let me explore.
Our jeans went next, mine tugged down rough, his peeled off with a curse when the denim caught at his ankle. He tossed aside my boxers. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. We were skin to skin.
Hot, bare skin slid against mine, slick with sweat. Our cocks pressed together, and we both gasped, grinding instinctively, the friction sharp and perfect.
“Jesus, Matt,” I whispered, clutching his back. “Why does sex feel so perfect with you?”
“Because we’re in love.”
His words lit me up from the inside, hotter than the grind of our cocks. I kissed him again, softly, like I could taste that truth on his lips. “Yeah, we are.”
Matty pulled back, breathing hard. “I want to taste you.”
He slid lower, mouthing along my jaw, down my throat, sucking a mark just under my collarbone.
I jerked, raked my fingers through his hair, and pulled.
I was helpless to do anything but writhe under him as his mouth worked lower.
He planted kisses on my chest, licked a slow circle around my nipple until I gasped, then bit hard enough to make me hiss.
“Fuck, Matt…” My voice cracked. He grinned against my skin, teeth grazing lower, and buried his face in the dip of my stomach.
I grabbed his shoulders and tugged, wanting his mouth on me, but he shifted, nudging my hip with his hand. “Turn with me.”
I blinked, dazed, but let him guide me, rolling onto my side with him until we were tangled head to toe. My mouth lined up with his cock just as his lips brushed the tip of mine.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, stroking me once before he took me in.
I groaned, nearly choking on my own need, because the second I felt the hot, wet suction of his mouth, I had no choice but to return the favor.
His cock was thick and heavy on my tongue, the taste of him sharp, addictive.
I wrapped my hand around the base and took more, sucking greedily, moaning around him.
He shuddered, the vibration of his groan buzzing down my length. I gagged lightly, eyes watering, and he pulled back long enough to utter, “Easy, Hud, don’t kill yourself on my cock.”
“Your mouth should be busy,” I mumbled around him, and swallowed him back down. His laugh turned into a gasp when I hollowed my cheeks.
Matty’s hips jerked, knocking into my jaw, but I swallowed him down, throat straining, spit slicking the base of his cock.
He groaned in answer, the rumble nearly undoing me.
For a few breathless minutes, the only sounds were the obscene wet squelches of us sucking each other and muffled moans caught against skin.
I was so close I could taste it, the heat curling at the base of my spine. I dug my fingers into his ass, pulling him deeper, desperate for it, but at the same time, I wanted more than to come in his mouth.
Matty pulled back, panting, spit running down his chin. “Hud—fuck—if you keep that up, I’m done.”
I lifted my head, chest heaving against his thigh. “Isn’t that the point? To make us both come?”
“Not this way.” He tugged me up by the hair until his mouth met mine again. Matty kissed me hard, then pulled back, eyes burning with something I hadn’t seen before, something almost shy, almost tender. “I want to bottom for you.”
My brain stuttered. “What?”
“You heard me.” His voice dropped low, like a secret he’d been saving. “I want you to fuck me, Hud.”
Shock punched through me. My whole time with Matty, he’d been a top, firm about it, confident in it. My breath stalled in my chest. “But you only top.”
His smile curved, soft and steady. “Yeah, but for you? I’m willing. Why should you have to bottom all the time because I say so? We can compromise.”
Heat and disbelief warred in me. I searched his face for hesitation, for doubt, but all I found was certainty. Still, I had to ask. “Are you sure? What brought this on? Fuck, is that why you ignored the wings while I was busy stuffing them down?”
“Maybe.” He kissed me again, slow, deep, grounding me in it. “If I don’t like it, we stop. Simple as that, but I’m willing to try with you.”
My heart slammed against my ribs, so hard I swore he could feel it. The idea of being inside him—of Matty letting me—was almost too much. I hadn’t allowed myself to think about it, since I knew he was a strict top. He never hid it, and I had accepted my role as his bottom.
Cradling his face, I pressed my lips to his. How could I give up the chance to be inside him? To find out what it was like? Would it be more different from the hollow I’d felt with the men in my past?
“I’ll try to make it good for you, Matt.” I smiled against his lips. “Not too good, though. Still want you topping me most nights. Feels too good to give that up.”
His laugh cracked the tension, the sound spilling into my mouth as he kissed me again. “Lube’s in the drawer next to the bed.”
“Can’t believe you planned this whole thing.” I kissed his shoulder and grabbed the bottle of lube. My hands were shaking. “Are you sure, Matty?” I had to ask again.
He took the lube from me and my other hand in his. He squeezed a cool line onto my fingers, then lay back, spreading wide for me like he’d already decided. “Like this. I want to see you.” His voice was low, rough with want but steady.
My chest tightened. The weight of what he was giving me was almost too much. I didn’t want him to hate the experience.
I shifted between his legs, knees pressing into the mattress, and bent down to kiss him first because I needed that connection before anything else. He opened his lips to mine, tongues sliding together, and when my slick fingers found the warm crease of him, he shivered but didn’t pull back.
I rubbed gently first, circling, teasing, until he sighed against my mouth. “Hud…”
“I’ve got you,” I whispered, kissing his cheek, his jaw, the hollow of his throat, and eased one finger in. His hand clenched in the sheets, knuckles white, but he opened his thighs wider. “How’s that?”
“Feels different,” he said shakily. “But… not bad. Not with you. Keep going.”
I kissed down his chest, licked his nipples, and he gasped. So I bit down gently on the nub while working my finger slowly, stroking in and out, shallow, letting him adjust. His hips twitched; his breath caught. When I added a second finger, he groaned into my mouth and gripped my hair hard.
“Fuck, Hud. You’re being careful. Too careful. I don’t need you to go that slow.”
I chuckled softly. “Would you rather I just ram my cock in? I want to make it good for you.”
“Just not too good.” His strained laugh wrapped around me.
“Bingo.”
I scissored my fingers, working him open, kissing him through every hiss, every groan. When I brushed that spot inside him, he gasped and arched up, eyes flying wide.
“There?” I murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah. Fuck, yeah.” His cock twitched against his stomach, leaking.
I slid a third finger in, stretching him. Sweat beaded on my forehead with the effort of holding back. Matty kissed me through it, deep and hungry, like he wanted to devour me whole, and hooked his legs around my waist, pulling me closer.
“I’m ready,” he whispered against my lips. “Hudson, please. Do it.”
My throat closed up at the sound of my name in that tone, like a prayer, like trust. I slicked myself fast, lined up, and paused, my forehead pressed to his.
“Last chance to tell me no.”
“Not no,” he said firmly. “Do it.”
I pushed, inch by inch, kissing him the whole time. He groaned, head thrown back, but he didn’t pull away. My hand found his cock, stroking gently, trying to distract him from the stretch.
“God, Matt.” I trembled as his tight heat closed around me. “You feel… different. Good. So fucking good.”
“Keep moving.” He dragged me back down to kiss him. “Don’t stop.”
I moved, slow thrusts at first, shallow and careful. His fingers dug into my back, nails sharp, but every groan spilling from his throat was needy, not pained. When I angled just right and hit that spot again, he gasped, bucking up hard.
“Fuck—Hud—do that again.”
I did, over and over, thrusting deep, stroking his cock in rhythm, kissing him until neither of us could breathe. Our mouths kept finding each other, desperate, wet, biting kisses broken by moans.
“I love you,” I groaned. “So much. Always.”