Trust Me(10)

He released my wrist that he’d imprisoned between us and I knew I should pull away.

Instead, I couldn't help but trace the hard contours of that long, thick ridge in his pants again. He let out a low hiss and stayed stock still.

"Jesus Christ."

He rolled away and then shot to his feet and I wondered if he was going to be the one to walk away. A second later, though, he pulled me up to join him, dragging my body against his, grinding his hips against mine, letting me feel every hard inch of him.

How long had it been? Years since I’d slept with a guy, and that time had been as underwhelming as all the rest of the times. I’d long since given up on sex. Way less disappointment to avoid it altogether than to get my hopes up.

What was it about Matty McDaniels that had me wanting to give it one more, old school try?

It was like he could read my mind because he leveled me with a lethal grin before dipping his head to kiss me.

Maybe kiss wasn't the right word, because at first, his lips didn't even touch mine. He traced the shape of them with his tongue, so gently, it was almost like a tickle, then he pressed in deeper, tasting the tender flesh inside my bottom lip before touching his tongue to mine.

He let out a muffled groan, and I realized that I'd been gripping his cock tighter with every slide of his tongue and had him in an iron grasp now. He didn't complain, though. He backed me into the wall until I was pinned and took my hair in his hand, tugging my head back.

"I had a dream about you last night," he said, pulling back far enough to gaze down at me. His pupils were so dilated that the black of them had almost swallowed all that green. "This hair of yours. I was lying on my bed and you were between my legs, sucking my cock. Your hair was spread out over my thighs, sliding across them every time you moved. I woke up at three AM, my dick was so hard, I couldn't stand up. I jerked off and came inside of thirty seconds."

Maybe I should've been offended, but I was anything but. Even as the doubts that seemed flimsier by the second nipped at my subconscious, instinct took over, and the most primal part of me never wanted to stop. Every memory of every kiss...every touch before this evaporated from my mind. It was like I'd gone careening off the earth and landed on a new planet where everything was different. More intense. More desperate. I wasn't hungry for him, I was starving.

Rather than squelch the dark urges building inside me, I embraced them, jamming my hands beneath his shirt, needing to feel his bare skin. I traced his lean muscles, running my fingertips over his abs and around to his back, exploring the dip of his spine, raking my nails over his shoulders.

"Let's go upstairs," he muttered against my mouth.

"No, here. Now." If we moved from this spot, I'd have a second to think it through, and that would ruin everything.

He didn't fight me on it, and wedged his knees between my legs until I was grinding against his thigh as a shudder rocked through me. He yanked up my shirt and tugged my bra aside until one breast thrust forward toward his waiting mouth.

His low grunt of satisfaction right before his lips closed over my nipple made me want nothing more than to strip the rest of my clothes off. He drew on the stiff bud, softly at first, but then harder as my gasps turned to moans. His thigh was wreaking havoc between mine and the two motions combined were driving me mad.

“I don't even have a rubber,” he rasped, pulling back to look at my face.

Tears of frustration pricked my eyes and I wanted to scream. He was right, we couldn't-

"Wh-what are you doing?" I asked, shuddering again as his fingers trailed over my abdomen and lower.

"You don’t want to come upstairs, and I don’t have a condom. Let me take care of you. No reason for us both to suffer.”

He was so wrong. I was suffering something fierce when his fingers slid up my skirt and between my legs. It would be like it always was only worse because it was so close…I could almost taste it, the elusive end to the want that hung like a juicy, red apple just out of reach.

"What about you?"

The breath sawed in and out of his lungs and his throat worked as he swallowed. "What about me?"

"What about that?" I eyed the erection jutting out of his pants like he was trying to smuggle a baseball bat from the room.

"Truth?"

I nodded and wet my lips, unable to look away from it.

"I'll wait until you leave, get in the shower and jerk off thinking about what just happened."

His words sent a lick of fire from my head to my toes. "That hardly seems fair," I murmured. I wanted to tell him I would take care of him too, but I didn’t want to make a promise I couldn’t keep. Once he realized I was broken, it would probably all end in an awkward mess of excuses and muttered apologies anyway.