“Hannah, I want you to meet my family, too. Properly.”
I hid my face against Matt’s chest. I had definitely not met Matt’s aunt and uncle properly at his phony memorial.
“And I thought we could fly east a day early. I want to show you some things.”
“What things?” I peeked up at his smooth jaw.
“Surprises, little bird.”
Simply standing in the circle of Matt’s arms eased away the rough edges of my day. I let myself forget about Chrissy and Seth … and Katie. Anyway, I didn’t plan to ask Matt about the things Katie had said—not until I heard more and determined how much I believed.
I kissed his throat. He sighed and I trailed the tip of my tongue up his neck.
“Hannah…”
“I missed you today.” Through the fabric of his shirt, I brushed a thumb across his nipple. He responded impulsively, his groin pressing my belly.
“Babe.” He cupped my face. “Are you okay? Lately you…”
My poor sweet Matt. He struggled, and failed, to articulate my crazy mood swings.
“I’m fine now.” I raked a hand down his spine and slid it into the back of his shorts, my nails teasing over his ass. A tense moan sounded in his throat.
“Mm, I just”—he got a handful of my backside—“don’t want to repeat last night.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean me jerking off at my desk.” He laughed reluctantly and I giggled.
“Is that what you did? I’m sorry, baby.” Except I wasn’t too sorry. I loved driving Matt to touch himself; it was ridiculously hot.
“Not your fault. I got too worked up.”
“Yeah? Are you getting too worked up now?” I stepped closer to Matt, crushing my chest to his, and reached between his legs from behind. I palmed his balls and he growled.
“Fuck, yeah.” His head rolled back. He rubbed the sides of my breasts.
“Do you always watch porn … when you do it alone?”
“Sometimes,” he said—no hesitation. “Not always.”
I massaged him gently and watched his neck cord and relax with pleasure, his chest rising and falling slowly. I eased back enough to let him play with my breasts, which seemed to please him. I moaned as he squeezed them.
“Want to feel those against your wet cunt,” he panted. “My balls.”
Unf … the dirty talk. My toes curled on the hardwood.
“Do you wanna … maybe … watch porn with me?” I gasped as soon as I said it. Where did that come from?
Matt was right; in some ways, I didn’t know him. But I wanted to know him—his habits, his likes and dislikes. I wanted to know all of him.
His head sank and his eyes floated open. He smiled thinly, head cocked.
“Hell, yes…”
Chapter 8
MATT
I pulled off my T-shirt and dropped it by the door. Hannah slid her hand out of my basketball shorts, her hot little touch leaving my balls. God damn …
The girl had a way of distracting me.
Tonight, distracting me from dinner, and some vague plan to sit down with her and talk about Chrissy’s pregnancy. It troubled Hannah deeply, and a little more than seemed reasonable.
I eased my dick out of my shorts.
“Oh,” she whispered.
She always stared. It always surprised her.
Heavy-lidded satisfaction uncoiled inside me.
“Was getting uncomfortable.” I took her hand and led her to the office, collected my MacBook Pro, and tugged her toward the bedroom.
“I really don’t watch much of this stuff…” I pushed off my shorts and sat on the bed, booting up the laptop. Hannah was curiously quiet, as if she’d exhausted all her courage for the night. “You sure you want to?”
“Yes.”
“You watch porn?” I raised a brow.
“Um. Some. Sometimes. Not … since I met you, really.”
I grinned and stretched. “No need, am I right?”
“Oh my God.” She laughed. “So vain.”
I hummed a bar of “You’re So Vain” and browsed the videos I’d bothered to download. I didn’t have many; it was all online anyway. “You should get undressed.”
I glanced at Hannah and caught her staring at my dick. Again. She flushed and my grin faded, something darker replacing it.
“Don’t be shy. You’re going to be my wife. I want you to look at it.”
Her mouth fell open. Her eyes strayed over my cock and abs as she undressed, peeling off her polo dress, shimmying out of her thong and unclasping her bra.
In turn, I gazed appreciatively at her body, which she revealed for me without pretense. Her full thighs and curved hips, her heavy breasts … the simple exposure made me harden completely.
She joined me on the bed.
She began to stroke my length; her leg pressed alongside mine.
“That’s nice…” I glanced at her hand. Nice? My control slipped. I slid under. Not for the first time, I thought, I could die like this, in this dark water. Gladly.
“Did you pick something?”
“Mm.” I opened one of the files. The media player filled the screen. “It’s the threesome you caught me watching. You seemed intrigued.” I leaned over and bit Hannah’s shoulder, then kissed it, my tongue sweeping her warm skin. She shuddered. “Am I right?”
“Um … yeah.”
“You sure?” I clicked on the progress bar, skipping the preamble—the producer’s sad effort to give the porn some plot.
“Yeah, yes.” Hannah didn’t sound too sure, but she glanced at the screen, where a dark-haired woman knelt on a bed. The room looked like all porn rooms: modern, anonymous, too clean. A man stood behind the woman, his erect cock touching her thigh. He stroked her ass. Hannah stroked my arousal.
I reached between her legs and found her wet. Perfect.
“Get on your hands and knees,” I said. “I know you like that.”
She obeyed quickly, transitioning to her hands and knees on the bed. I knelt behind her, rubbing my head against her glistening cunt. When she tried to slide back onto me, I slapped her ass. The sound sent a tremor of pleasure through me. The sight of her quivering made me twitch.
“Stay still. Be a good girl. Watch.”
When the man on the screen penetrated the woman, I slid into Hannah. Slow … so slow. One torturous, lazy stroke.
Hannah was panting by the time I buried myself.
We fucked like the couple in the video. When he drilled into her, I moved harder against Hannah. When he pulled her hair, I tugged on Hannah’s curls.
“How do you like it?” I gasped.
“Nn … good.” She struggled to keep her eyes on the screen.
The second man stepped into the frame, casually undoing his jeans.
Hannah inhaled. Her pussy clenched and I moaned.
“You’re making me feel so good. Keep watching.” I slid out of her—she whined at my absence—and climbed off the bed. The air of the bedroom felt cool against my body.
I disappeared into the closet, returning with Hannah’s vibrator—the LELO I bought for her last summer.
“Look.” I nodded at my laptop. The second man knelt on the bed before the woman. She got him hard with her hand and mouth. I watched for a beat, my pleasure intensified by Hannah’s bright blush and shy gaze. “You remember where this is going?”
“Y-yes…”
I dropped the vibrator between her knees.
“Do it, then,” I said, and we did. She did. Trembling exquisitely, Hannah pushed the toy into her body while I knelt in front of her and slid my member down the back of her throat—again and again. She took it all. Her eyes rolled toward the laptop, where the woman on the bed got her mouth and pussy fucked. I asked if Hannah liked it, being full. She nodded as well as she could. Saliva dripped from her lips.
And cum. My cum.
I gripped her hair and groaned as her tongue flickered against me.
“All you need … is something … in your ass,” I panted.
Hannah shuddered, convulsing on her toy.
I barely noticed when she dropped the LELO and dampened her finger with arousal. Her hot mouth, its tight vacuum and instinctive constriction, dragged me down. Had she come? Was she coming? I didn’t know.
Hannah wrapped a hand around my dick and let me thrust into her mouth. “Good,” I told her. “Close. Soon. Take it.”
She gripped my ass and her slippery finger pressed against my anus.
That sensation …
No woman had ever dared.
Drunk with pleasure, I grasped the headboard and bucked against her mouth.
“Is th-that … what you want to do?” I hissed.
I bowed over her and arched back.
“Then do it,” I said. Her finger pierced me. Ah—it was something strange—an intimate feeling beyond reason.
I poured myself into her mouth.
* * *
Pearlescent in her afterglow, Hannah lounged on top of me. Her sweet-smelling hair rolled across my chest. Her nipples, still hard, pressed into my skin. Excited me.
That is the state of desire, I guess. A state of imperfect satisfaction.
I slid my laptop onto the bedside table.
We hadn’t spoken for several minutes. I was savoring my orgasm—a powerful, jagged release—and playing it over in my mind.
“Did you come?” I said, wincing subtly. Usually I could tell.
“God, yes. Way too fast. I don’t know what got into me…”