Tied With Me (With Me In Seattle)(8)

“God, you feel so good.” His voice is rough and broken. “So f*cking tight. How long has it been?”

I shrug. Jesus, he wants me to think now?

“Answer me,” he commands and slaps my ass with his hand, making me squeal.

The pain surprises me but is quickly replaced by an erotic heat that makes me want to squirm beneath him.

“I don’t know. A year?”

“Fuck me,” he whispers and continues to pound inside me, as though he’s running a race, and the finish line is in sight. He keeps his hand tightly gripped to my wrists, and with the other, grips on to my hair and pulls me back until my chest is off the bed and I’m completely at his mercy.

“Does this hurt?” he asks, his mouth pressed against my ear.

“No,” I gasp. God, this angle makes him feel even bigger. I want to rotate my hips, to push back against him, but I’m defenseless with my arms pinned and my torso being held off the bed.

“Am I pulling your hair too hard?”

Yes.

But I like it.

“No,” I reply and gasp when he pushes into me even harder, bucking his hips against my ass. I feel the tension building, settling in the small of my back.

“Do not come until I tell you,” he commands, his teeth clenched.

“But…” I begin, but he grips my wrist tighter.

“You heard me.”

I swallow and try to concentrate on something else. Grocery shopping. The orders I have to fill for tomorrow. What to send to my grandmother for her birthday next month.

But it’s no use. My body is on fire, and there is no turning back.

Finally, with a roar, he pushes inside me and yells out, “Come, Nic!”

And I do, succumbing to the most intense orgasm of my life. My hips jerk against him as he comes inside me, our bodies moving in sync, perfectly attuned to each other.

Finally, he plants a gentle kiss between my shoulder blades as he releases my hair and wrists and begins to untie me.

“You could just cut me out,” I whisper, resting against the soft cotton of my duvet.

“I prefer this,” he replies softly.

As he loosens the knots, he massages my skin gently, and my body is just one big ball of sensation, from the intense sex and the sweet way he’s touching me now.

When my arms are free, he helps me to my feet so he can finish untying his intricate knots.

“I liked it,” I murmur, watching his hands.

“Did you,” he responds with a half smile.

I nod shyly, feeling my cheeks heat.

“No need to get shy on me now.”

I chuckle as he pulls the last of the rope away.

“Thank you.”

His eyes find mine, and he frowns. “For what?”

I tilt my head to the side, finding the words. “For this…new experience.”

Matt smirks and raises my hand to his mouth where he plants sweet kisses on my knuckles, then yanks me against him. He’s still naked as can be, and I’m fully dressed, but I finally get to touch him. His skin is warm and smooth beneath my hands as I glide them up and down his back, his arms, up into his thick hair.

“Your hands are dangerous,” he murmurs against my lips.

“You feel amazing.”

He smiles down at me and catches my hands in his, kisses my nose and moves away.

“I’m going to need your phone number.”

As he speaks, his phone rings in his pants. He frowns and pulls away from me to retrieve his phone and answers.

“Yeah.”

He scowls and begins to swear a blue streak as he yanks his clothes on. “I’m on the way. Are the girls okay? I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

He snaps his phone shut and gazes at me with regret.

“You have to go.”

“Yeah.” He kisses me quickly, his mind already somewhere else. “I’ll call you.”

And with that he runs out of my apartment. He’s gone before I can remind him that he never got around to taking my number.

It’s probably for the best. He’s into shit that I have no concept of. This will just be one night that I’ll never forget.

I shower and dress in my pajamas, grab a bag of chips out of the pantry, and settle on the couch, not paying attention to what’s on TV.

I wonder who the girls were that he mentioned. Could he have kids?

Oh. My. God.

I just had random sex with a married guy with kids! I’m so f*cking stupid! Just because a guy is hot and says, “Trust me, baby,” doesn’t mean that I can, in fact, trust him.