20. Matty #2
I stared at the screen for a long moment, throat tight. It wasn’t a long story, and yet it felt like . . . everything. A love letter wrapped in the style of the stories that had once confused the hell out of me, and then helped me understand myself.
I set the phone aside.
“Peter?” I called toward the stairs.
No answer.
Mo lifted her head from the back of the couch. “Stay put, princess,” I told her, scratching behind her ears as I passed. “Daddy’s got to go find his man.”
I took the stairs two at a time, my heart pounding. When I reached the second-floor landing, I followed the soft lamplight spilling into the hallway from beneath my bedroom door. When I pushed it open, Diaz was sitting on the edge of the bed wearing nothing but a backwards hat and a grin.
And his game-day socks.
Fuck me.
My mouth went dry.
I had a vague memory of mentioning how hot it would be to suck him off while he wore his team socks. At the time, I had only meant it as a half-baked joke, but seeing him now, neither of us were laughing.
“Took you long enough,” he said smugly, leaning back on his hands and letting me look my fill.
My eyes dragged down his body, over the lean muscle of his chest and stomach, the sharp cut of his hips, landing on the thick cock resting against his upper thigh. The sight of it made my own dick twitch.
I licked my lips without thinking.
Diaz’s grin sharpened. “I take it you liked the story?”
I was moving before he finished his question. I crossed the room in three long strides and dropped to my knees in front of him. My hands slid up his calves, over the red-and-white stripes of his game socks, and I pressed an open-mouthed kiss right next to where his cock lay, warm and waiting.
“Loved it,” I murmured against his skin. “I love you.”
Diaz let out a pained sound and threaded his fingers through my hair. I kept my eyes trained on his as I took his half-hard cock into my mouth in one slow, wet glide.
“Mm, that’s it,” he murmured, voice already husky. “I love you, too, tesoro.”
He thickened instantly against my tongue, growing heavy and full as I sucked him deeper. Fuck, he felt good. Like velvet skin over steel. I took my time, swirling my tongue around the swollen head, licking up the bead of precum already leaking from his slit before sliding down again.
Diaz’s hips twitched. “I love the way you make me feel.”
The hand in my hair tightened, tugging me back up his length.
“I love how much you care about your friends and family.” He pressed my head back down, holding me still when I reached the base, throat constricting around him. “And your spoiled fucking dog.”
I hummed around him, the vibration pulling a rough groan from deep in his chest.
Saliva dripped down my chin, but I couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when he was controlling my every movement, guiding me up and down his cock with slow, deliberate strokes while telling me exactly why he loved me.
He eased me up just enough to let me breathe.
“I love how you pretend to be all buttoned-up and proper, but you fall apart so beautifully when I get my hands on you.”
My eyes watered when he pushed me back down again, holding me there until my throat fluttered around him.
“Like right now. Look at you, drooling all over my cock, letting me use this mouth while I tell you how much I love you.”
Holy hell, he was killing me. His praise mixed with the filthy control made heat pool low in my belly.
And I took it all.
Every word. Every inch.
Diaz pulled me up again, breathing hard. “I love how you renovated this whole house with your own two hands.”
He stroked my cheek with his thumb before guiding me back down. This time, I hollowed my cheeks, sucking hard.
“Most of all,” he rasped, hips twitching, “I love that you’re mine.”
This time, he eased me off him completely. I blinked up at him, confused and a little dazed. That was until I saw the flesh-colored dildo in one hand and the bottle of lube in the other.
“How do you feel about fulfilling two fantasies in one?” he asked, his grin downright lethal.
“Fuck yes.”
My voice came out hoarse. Diaz’s eyes darkened with satisfaction.
He set the dildo and lube on the bed, then stood, pulling me up with him. His touch was efficient but tender as he stripped me out of my clothes. When I was finally naked, he stepped back and looked at me like I was something he wanted to devour.
“On the bed,” he ordered softly. “On your back.”
I climbed onto the mattress, my heart hammering. Diaz followed, settling between my spread thighs. He reached up and handed me . . .
A folder? My folder?
The one full of his old fanfics.
I took it, my brain still hazy. “I don’t—”
“Page seventeen,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding. “Read it.”
“What?”
“Out loud. Don’t stop reading, no matter what I do.”
Understanding hit me like a freight train.
I took the folder with shaky hands. Before I had even turned to the correct page, Diaz leaned down and slicked his tongue over my dick in one smooth motion, swirling it around the tip like a goddamn ice cream cone.
“Jesus—” My head fell back against the pillow as wet heat engulfed me.
“Nope. Peter.”
I swallowed hard, fingers tightening on the binder. “You’re evil.”
“You love it,” he murmured, already slicking the dildo with lube.
“I love you.”
His eyes sparkled. “Read, tesoro.”
I flipped to the correct page with shaky hands and did as I was told. “The locker room was empty after practice, steam still curling from the showers.”
Diaz pressed two slick fingers against my hole and pushed inside me slowly, stretching me open. I gasped, hips twitching at the cool slide of lube and the familiar burn. He worked them in and out, curling them exactly right to brush my prostate while I struggled to keep going.
“Matty had barely stepped under the spray when strong hands grabbed his hips and—” My voice cracked as a third finger joined the first two. The cool slide of lube and the curl of Diaz’s fingers inside me made me want to scream. “F-fuck, Peter—”
“Keep going,” he growled, twisting his fingers deeper.
I swallowed hard.