Last Light(37)

Beneath the paper, which Matt peeled off quickly, was a black LELO box. I stared at my foot, the wall, anything but Matt.

“LELO? Nice choice, Hannah.”

He lifted the lid and I closed my eyes. Dear Lord, where did I get the balls to give Matt a vibrating waterproof cock ring? I wanted to disappear beneath the water. Urgh … the silence was killing me. I drew up my knees and cracked open one eye.

Matt’s stare burned into me. He’d removed the ring from its holder and set aside the packaging. I couldn’t read his expression. Candlelight glimmered on his damp skin, limned his profile, and flickered in his eyes.

“It’s, uh, waterproof. I ch-charged it … so…” I sank behind my knees.

Matt extended the ring to me. Mute, I accepted it. My fingers drifted over the butter-soft silicone. Wow. This felt like a brilliant idea when I was ordering the toy, but now—

“Put it on me,” Matt said.

He stood smoothly. Water streamed down his naked body and his rigid length jutted from his pelvis. I dropped the ring in the water, swore, and snatched it.

Okay, he wanted it on … I got this, I got this.

“Tell me … tell me if it hurts. I’ll just…” I scooted forward along the tub bottom and wrapped my fingers around Matt’s cock. His lips twitched. My heart was doing acrobatics in my chest. I was excited, nervous, pleased, terrified, turned on—everything.

I leaned forward and kissed the tip of Matt’s cock.

“God … Hannah…”

There wasn’t a note of protest in his voice, just slow-burning desire. He gripped my wet curls. I wrapped my lips around his head, suckling and swirling my tongue. I laid a hand against his thigh to feel the muscles tensing. He loved this.

And sure, every guy I’d dated loved it, but not like Matt. When I looked at Matt while I sucked his dick, I saw the most powerful longing overtaking him, accompanied by a furious, stubborn resistance. He never wanted to show his need. He fought the pleasure as it overcame him, and he surrendered to it with low, long moans. Only in those moments did I have the upper hand, and I relished it as much as I relished submission.

I licked my way down Matt’s shaft before sliding the elastic ring over it. It stretched around his girth as I worked it down to the base. I looked up at him.

“Does it hurt?”

I caught a ghost of a smile on his lips. “No,” he said. “It feels good, Hannah.”

I massaged Matt’s balls lightly and turned on the ring.

He moaned—the sound so sharp that I jumped.

“Fuck,” he snarled. He gripped his shaft.

“Uh, sorry—sorry, let me—”

“N-no, no … it’s fine.” Matt stroked himself a few times and closed his eyes. “Fine…”

“Does it feel good? Bad?” I peered up at him.

“Good,” he breathed.

I pried Matt’s fingers off his dick and tried not to giggle. He was always taking matters into his own hands. “Let me.” I pumped his shaft and licked his head back into my mouth. I relaxed my throat and moved him deeper, moaning as I did.

Matt’s pleading began when I dialed up the ring. Powerful vibrations trembled down his cock to my tongue, turning my moans into purrs.

“Don’t—don’t,” he hissed, tugging at my hair. “Don’t make me come. I want to come with you—f*ck, Hannah, f*ck … suck me…”

I savored his desperation, along with his indecision. One moment he was trying to guide my mouth off his sex, the next he was trying to push it deeper. Swearing. Snarling my name. His head thrown back or pitched forward, eyes glued to me.

“Come on,” he rasped. “No, no. Hannah…”

And I won’t lie; it drove me just as wild. The way Matt felt in my mouth and the way he begged for me—it was pure need, raw honesty.

I drew back, licked my lips, and leaned against the slope of the tub. I spread my legs and Matt sank over me, lowering his gorgeous body into the water. Into me. His eyes were stormy.

I felt every inch of his invasion.

The bullet at the top of the ring hit my clit and I gasped, digging my nails into Matt’s back. “Fuck!” I cried.

“Yeah?” Matt’s voice curled with delight. “I know, I know.”

He didn’t move; he simply pinned me against the tub with his cock buried in me and the ring vibrating against my clit. Before long, I was writhing under him.

“Come on,” he coaxed. “I know you can come like this. Come for me.”

My coiled pleasure released in a rush and I groaned. My back bowed. My sex squeezed and milked Matt’s length, and only then did he begin to move.

The bathwater seesawed in the tub. Matt f*cked me single-mindedly, oblivious even when a splash extinguished a candle. My *, he kept telling me, was tight, so f*cking tight, and he loved to f*ck it, he wanted to come in it, and how did I like to feel his cum?

He groaned and pressed his face into my neck as he came. Whatever crossed his features in the throes of bliss, he hid.

Afterward, we bathed one another. Matt was sedate. He lathered shampoo into my hair, smoothed body wash over my skin, and rinsed me clean. We kissed and didn’t speak. We’d created a sanctuary—in the bathtub, in the cabin—and I felt such peace.

Matt blew out the rest of the candles and turned on the light. We dried one another, smiling faintly whenever our eyes met. Then—for the first time, though I don’t know how I missed it last night—I caught sight of the white-pink scar on his calf. I knelt and brushed the towel over it.