CHAPTER 14
MATTY
My cock was still throbbing, soaked inside my jeans, the wet spot warm and sticky against my thigh.
I’d come in my fucking pants like a teenager, just from tasting her, from feeling her clench around my fingers and screaming my name.
One lick of her sweet, dripping pussy, and I’d lost it, no warning, no control, just a crazy, blinding rush that hit me so hard I’d nearly blacked out.
And I was already hard again.
Fucking hell.
Ophelia was trembling in my arms, her skin flushed and glowing, those perfect lips of hers swollen from my mouth. Those copper eyes that had haunted me since the first time I saw her were glassy and dazed…mine. I’d done that. I’d put that look on her face. I’d made her come so hard she’d cried.
I wanted to fall to my knees and thank whatever god let this happen. I couldn’t believe that I’d ever been in a bad mood tonight. My dinner with my dad seemed like it had happened a thousand years before.
The knock on the door barely registered. Nothing mattered but her. I called out “occupied” without looking away, my thumb still stroking her hip like I could brand the feel of her into my skin.
I searched her gorgeous face, my eyes tracing every flicker…her parted lips, the flush riding high on her cheeks, the way her lashes fluttered like she was still catching her breath.
What is she thinking? I wondered. Was that as life-changing for her as it was for me?
The taste of her still coated my tongue, sweet and addictive, like honey laced with something that made me feral…
and I couldn’t stop myself. I slammed my lips against hers again, kissing her deeply, like I could crawl inside her mouth and live there.
My hips rolled on instinct, pressing the hard, aching length of me against her bare thigh.
She gasped suddenly, her hands clutching my shoulders.
Ah, she must have felt it…the wet patch seeping through my jeans.
Her eyes snapped open, and she broke the kiss. She looked down and brushed her fingers against the soaked denim and barely held in a groan. Her gaze flew back to my face, shock widening those copper eyes. “What—” she gasped.
I grinned shamelessly. “Yeah. You did that, pretty baby.”
Her lips parted, another stunned little sound escaping.
“I came in my pants the second I tasted you,” I rasped, leaning in to nip at her bottom lip. “One lick, and I fucking lost it. And I’m already ready to go again…”
Her blush flared, but pride flickered in her eyes. I kissed her again, harder, making sure it was engraved in her head how attracted I was to her.
I wanted her to feel good about herself when it came to me.
She owned me.
I broke the kiss, only to drag my mouth down her throat and scrape my teeth against her pulse, sucking a mark that would bloom purple by morning and hopefully show anyone who looked that she also belonged to someone.
Me, obviously.
My hands shook as they slid under her thighs, lifting her higher on the counter so I could grind against her more, the soaked denim chafing my cock in the best way. Every roll of my hips pulled a whimper from her, and I swallowed it like oxygen.
Take her home. Chain her to the bed. Never let her leave.
The thought hit savagely, a growl rumbling in my chest. I pictured her wrists in cuffs, ankles spread, my sheets twisted around her naked body while I fucked her over and over for days. Weeks. Forever.
Except…when I’d pushed my fingers inside her, there’d been resistance…She’d gasped like it hurt and didn’t at the same time.
I was pretty sure she was a virgin. And if not a virgin—although I wanted to kill someone thinking of another guy touching her—then at least very inexperienced.
When I had sex with her, it couldn’t be on some random bathroom counter with some drunk pounding on the door. It would be in my bed with candles, clean sheets…her name carved into the headboard. Perfect. Mine.
I pulled back just enough to rest my forehead against hers, breath ragged, heart pounding like I’d just run sprints. Her scent, sweat, sex, her, filled my lungs, and I wanted to drown in it.
She shifted on the counter, thighs spreading wider, and a wince flashed across her face. A soft, pained sound slipped out before she could stop it.
I froze, worry spiking through the haze. “Are you sore, sweetheart?”
Her cheeks flushed deeper, eyes dropping. “Yeah…a little, but it’s a good sore,” she blurted, almost tripping over the words like she was scared I’d take it the wrong way.
Pride hit me hard, a dark, possessive thrill curling in my gut. I did that. Made it so she would feel me hours from now.
Marked her in a way no one else ever would again.
Underneath the rush, though, I made a mental note to watch her…She liked to be my good girl, to please, even when it hurt. I never wanted to let that sweetness be something that hurt her.
I cupped her face, my thumb brushing her lip as I grinned. “Fuck, I love that.”
Ophelia bit her lip, then glanced toward the door. “I guess we should go back out there,” she said in a small, disappointed voice.
She looked worried suddenly, her fingers twisting in my shirt, tugging like she didn’t want to let go.
I didn’t want to, either.
The idea of stepping back into that noise, of having anyone else look at her…it felt wrong.
But I couldn’t keep her in a dirty bathroom forever.
“I guess we should,” I murmured, even though every part of me rebelled against it.
I slid my hands to her waist and lifted her off the counter, setting her gently on her feet. She wobbled, and my grip tightened automatically. I didn’t miss the tiny wince, or the way she tried to hide it behind a shy smile.
“Easy,” I said softly, letting my thumb trace the edge of her hip again because I couldn’t not touch her.
I glanced around, huffing out a quiet laugh when I saw the torn scrap of lace on the floor. I grabbed the ruined panties, holding them up by one finger. The lace hung in shreds—my best handiwork, if I did say so myself.
“These aren’t making a comeback, sweet girl.”
Her blush flared, but a giggle escaped, and I savored the sound.
I brought the scrap to my nose, inhaling her scent. It was sweet and musky…my new favorite aroma.
My cock pulsed, another hot spurt leaking into my already soaked jeans. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing myself to picture Emma and iced milk, anything to keep from coming again right there.
That actually worked quite well.
“I’m keeping these,” I rasped, hoping the roughness in my voice didn’t spook her.
I opened my eyes to find her nodding eagerly, eyes bright, like the thought of me keeping her panties lit her up inside. Fuck, she’s cute.
I slipped the torn lace into my back pocket with a wink.
She continued to stand there, wobbly and trusting, letting me kneel to tug her jeans up. I realized I’d popped the button clean off…and another low chuckle rumbled out of me. “Guess I owe you new jeans, too,” I murmured, fastening the denim as best I could with the zipper alone.
It hit me again…how perfect she was. Ophelia seemed perfectly content to let me take care of her. No protest, no fuss, just soft eyes and that little smile, handing me the reins like it was the most natural thing in the world. My chest tightened, a fierce, warm ache spreading through me.
I loved it.
Loved her letting me handle every detail, loved that she was already trusting me to take care of her.
I caught her hand and turned toward the door, but she stiffened, the smallest tremor running through her fingers.
“Hey,” I murmured, glancing back at her. She looked nervous. Was she worried about what people would think if they saw us?
I leaned close. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Anyone who sees us is just going to be thinking that I’m the luckiest bastard alive.”
Her breath caught, the corners of her mouth trembling into the shyest smile I’d ever seen. Then it faded, her voice small and uncertain. “I just…I don’t want it to be over,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to not see me again.”
For a second, the words didn’t quite register—like she was speaking a language my brain hadn’t caught up to yet.
“Not see you again?” I repeated, frowning a little.
She nodded, her eyes suddenly glassy, like she was about to cry. “After this. You’ll go back out there, and I’ll just be…” She trailed off, swallowing hard. “I don’t want that.”
A low ache punched through my chest. I tightened my hold on her hand, forcing her to look up at me.
“Ophelia,” I said quietly, “that would be impossible.”
Her brow furrowed, lips parting.
“You’re all I see.”
For a heartbeat, she just stared at my face. Then her whole face lit up…like sunrise breaking open right in front of me. She literally beamed, and I swear the air around us changed. It was all I could do not to put her back on the counter and start everything all over again.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and brushed my thumb over her knuckles. “You ready now, sweetheart?”
She nodded, squeezing my hand tight. “Yeah,” she whispered.
“Good girl,” I murmured, and pushed the bathroom door open.
We’d barely taken two steps into the hallway when a familiar voice practically shouted my name.
“Matty! Thank fuck!”
Garrett appeared out of nowhere, hair mussed, shirt untucked, eyes wide like he’d just survived a war zone.
“You have to save me,” he begged, grabbing my shoulder. “Parker and Jace ditched me! They left with Casey and Riley, and now some girl’s trying to—” He broke off, glancing over his shoulder. “Oh fuck. There she is.”
I followed his gaze just in time to see a tipsy brunette waving what looked like a Sharpie.
Garrett groaned. “She wants me to sign her baby. Not her shirt. Not her arm. Her actual baby. I obviously didn’t know she was a mom when I hooked up with her! She’s acting like her baby is stashed somewhere around here. I’m terrified!”
Ophelia snorted beside me, and I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face.