Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
the snap
BLAIR
Can you still call it a mistake if you willingly make it twice? Or do two wrongs somehow make a right?
I might have some prayer of answering that if I wasn’t being held captive in Matty’s blue-eyed stare. The taste of his kiss lingers on my lips, my frantic heartbeat pounding against my ribs, in my ears, between my thighs…
As if I didn’t just spend the whole day drowning in regret over kissing him last night, here I am doubling down on my sins. There’s no question whether I’m on the highway to hell now.
I’m not sorry.
That’s what he just declared, and now he’s looking at me with both apprehension and blazing intensity, like he’s simultaneously bracing himself for my refusal and determined to change my mind.
I no longer see the polite, bashful guy who works at the desk across from mine every day– the man standing before me knows exactly what he wants and isn’t shy about going for it.
That sexy confidence is my undoing.
“Me neither,” I breathe, the words leaving my lips unbidden. I’m sure I’ll be sorry later, but right now I’m not. I’m running purely on wild adrenaline and instinct, my mind too clouded with lust to process rational thought.
It must be temporary insanity that has me reaching for his hand, just like Gia did after calling me over.
That’s when it all changed. Something shifted in me when her delicate fingers slipped between his, triggering a sense of possessiveness over Matty I have no business feeling.
Her perfectly manicured fingernails were painted baby pink, while mine are bitten down to the quick, the black polish chipped.
He dropped her hand.
He doesn’t drop mine.
His fingers lace with my own, holding on tight as impulse and urgency take over and I tug him toward the nearest door.
The hum of the dryer greets us when we stumble from the hall into the laundry room, and before the door can even swing closed, all the overwrought tension that’s been simmering between us explodes like a bursting dam.
We collide in a mess of frenzied need, chests heaving as our mouths fuse.
My fingers twist in the fabric of his t-shirt while he kisses the hell out of me, scooping me up by the backs of my thighs and wrapping my legs around his waist. The fabric of my skirt rides up to bunch around my hips as he carries me over to the nearest washing machine, setting me down on the surface without ever breaking our kiss.
His hands grip my waist, our tongues tangling, but somehow, it’s still not enough.
Hooking my ankles behind his back, I tug him in even closer until I can feel every hard plane of his body against mine, the thick ridge of his cock riding against my panty-clad center.
I slip my hands up underneath the hem of his t-shirt, his sculpted stomach dipping with a sharp intake of breath.
“Fuck, Blair,” he murmurs against my lips, ab muscles rippling beneath my palms as he grinds against me. “If you don’t want this, you need to tell me to stop.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I growl back, capturing his lower lip between my teeth.
He nips my lips right back, a groan rumbling in his throat when his hands slide up over my breasts and he discovers I’m not wearing a bra. His thumbs brush over my nipples and they respond instantly through the thin fabric of my shirt, hardening into stiff peaks beneath his touch.
There’s no denying the connection blazing between us– the heat, the hunger, the palpable intensity of our chemistry is off the charts.
I moan into his mouth as my fingers scrabble with the button of his jeans, popping it free and delving beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs.
A thrill runs through me as my fingertips brush the velvet of his cock, turning to a shudder of anticipation as I struggle to even wrap my hand around his girth.
Goddamn, this thing is gonna split me open.
And yet rather than being intimidated, I welcome the prospect of pain as some fucked up form of self-flagellation because I know full well how wrong this is.
I’m weak, lost to the moment and surrendering to my own selfish impulses, consequences be damned.
I’m sure I’ll hate myself for this tomorrow, but that doesn’t make me want it any less right here and now.
Matty’s eyes roll back with a groan as I start stroking him, his thick cock growing impossibly harder in my palm as I tug it free of the confines of his boxers.
His hands drop to my bare thighs, and I spread my legs wider in invitation for him to touch me.
He gets the message loud and clear, my breath catching when his hand slides up to cup me through my underwear, fingers applying gentle pressure to my throbbing clit.
I pump him harder in my fist as he slips my panties to the side, a jolt of pleasure zapping through me when his digits make direct contact with my sensitive pussy. “Oh fuck,” I choke, thighs tightening around his waist to drag him in closer.
I need him inside me now.
I need to ride that massive cock until I forget my own fucking name.
Angling my hips, I guide his tip to my entrance, rubbing the velvety crown through my slickness. Rather than following my lead and pushing inside, he abruptly jolts back with a sharp inhale. A little crease forms between his brows as his eyes meet mine and he gives a little shake of his head.
“I don’t have a condom.”
“So?” I pant in response to his ridiculously human concern. “I’m a shifter.”
The furrow of his brow deepens as he rocks back on a heel. “But what about…?”
I reach out to grab onto his forearm, the cords of his muscles rippling beneath my palm as I pull him back in. “We don’t carry diseases, and we only ovulate on the full moon,” I say, holding eye contact. “So just shut up and fuck me, Matty.”
Even as I say the words, some part of me screams in protest. I know how wrong it is to want him like this, and for a second, I almost hope he’ll put a stop to the madness that’s taken over me.
My heart ceases to beat as those beautiful blue eyes search my face, then they blaze with a fierce intensity that eviscerates the last vestiges of hesitation I have left.
He dives back in to capture my lips, bringing the broad head of his cock to notch at my opening.
The air feels supercharged with anticipation as he slowly presses forward, a mixture of excitement and trepidation swirling low in my belly.
There’s no doubt it’ll be a tight fit, but I swear I’m wetter than I’ve ever been in my life, aching to be filled by that monster cock of his.
I hiss a breath in through my teeth at the sting of resistance as he breaches my entrance, my inner walls stretching to accommodate his girth as he slides in a little further.
I whimper into his mouth, kissing him harder as he eases in inch by glorious inch, my body slowly adjusting to the intrusion. Just when I think I’m stretched to my limit, he pushes impossibly deeper, my eyes rolling back as my soul leaves my fucking body.
“Shit, you’re so big,” I grit out, gripping onto his thick biceps for dear life.
He jerks his head back to look at me, his handsome features twisted in a mix of pleasure and concern. “You okay?” he rasps, hesitating.
“Yeah,” I pant, nodding frantically. “Just… fuck…”
I lose the ability to form words as he starts to move, hips pulsing in shallow thrusts that send waves of pleasure rolling through me.
“You feel so fucking good, Blair,” Matty chokes out as he picks up his pace, hands dropping to my hips and fingers digging bruises into my skin. “Goddamnit, you’re squeezing me so hard right now, it feels incredible.”
All I can do is moan in response as his cock hits a spot inside that has my inner walls clenching around him, trying to hold him in place.
He groans low in his throat and starts to move faster, his thrusts growing more intense.
I feel my orgasm building, my body coiling tighter with each drag of his thick cock through my channel.
This shouldn’t feel as good as it does.
I reach up, my hands tangling in his hair as I pull his mouth to mine.
Our lips crash together, tongues tangling, bodies grinding.
It’s fast and furious, desperate and all-consuming.
Matty’s hand slips between us, his thumb landing on my clit and rubbing tight circles around it.
I instantly detonate, back arching and toes curling as I come undone.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” I cry out, body shaking as I ride out wave after wave of bliss.
Matty roars my name as he follows me over the edge, hips stuttering and cock pulsing as he buries himself deep.
Warmth floods my insides, our panted breaths mingling in the space between us as we fight to catch our breath.
My body hums with pleasure, still tingling with the aftershocks of my orgasm.
I’m not sure I’ve ever come that hard in my life.
No, I’m positive I’ve never come that hard.
Holy fucking shit.
My dazed eyes flutter open to meet his as I slowly start to come back down to earth, and we stay locked there for a long moment, chests rising and falling in tandem.
Then the happy little lust bubble we’re inhabiting abruptly pops.
The laundry room door bursts open, a startled gasp echoing through the small space. We both whip our heads around, springing apart on instinct, but not before we catch a fleeting glimpse of dark hair as whoever just caught us makes a hasty retreat.
"Shit," I hiss, heart racing with panic.
I quickly hop down from the washing machine, legs trembling beneath me as I frantically tug my skirt back down over my thighs.
My hands shake as I smooth the fabric, mind racing with the implications of being caught in such a compromising position with Matty, of all people.
The human.
The former hunter.
When my mate was murdered by hunters.
Fuck my life.
Matty swiftly yanks up his pants and boxers, cursing under his breath as his hands fumble with the button on his jeans. He glances over at me, brow creasing with frustration and broad chest still heaving with exertion.
My panicked gaze bounces between him and the door, mind reeling.
I have to get out of here.
As if he can sense I’m about to make a run for it, Matty snaps a hand out to catch my arm, reeling me back in.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he growls as he yanks me into his chest. His lips crash down onto mine, reasserting his claim, and for a second the world around us falls away again. I lose myself in the taste of his kiss, in the safety of his arms.
No.
I can’t.
Flattening my palms against his chest, I push away, stumbling backwards and shaking my head.
“Blair,” Matty warns, blue eyes boring into mine.
“I can’t,” I whisper feebly.
A little piece inside me cracks as I pivot on a heel and dart for the door, making a clean escape before I do something stupid.
Except I already have, and I’m not sure there’s any coming back from it.