Last Light(49)

And I waited.

In the silence, I heard the loud rush of my breath and hammering heart.

“Come out, come out,” Matt called, “wherever you are.”

His voice echoed eerily through the condo. His footfalls sounded in the hall.

I scooted under the desk.

He tried the knob—lightly at first, then harder, the brass rattling.

He pressed against the door. “In here, is it?”

Then came a long, weighted silence, and a crack like a shot. I yelped and scrambled out from under the desk. The door hung open at a slant. Matt stood in the frame rubbing his shoulder. When he saw me, his eyes widened.

I leapt past him.

He caught me, and the air burst out of my lungs. We went down struggling.

I didn’t need to remember Matt telling me to fight him. I felt real fear—cold terror.

I twisted onto my stomach on the floor and scrabbled at the wood, but I couldn’t crawl away. Matt pinned me with his body. His strong legs locked against mine, and with one powerful hand he held down my neck. Air whistled through my windpipe.

“There you are,” he crooned. “Ready for me now?”

I kicked and spat. I clawed at the arm holding me down. With his free hand, Matt yanked up my sweater dress. He squeezed my breast through the cup of my bra.

Unbidden desire wet my thong.

“No,” I moaned, and a low thrill went through me. “Stop!”

“Your tits feel good,” Matt growled in my ear.

He squeezed harder, fondling me with his hand trapped between my chest and the floor. He pushed up my bra and pinched my nipples.

I rasped.

Fuck, that felt good …

Matt’s hand dove down the back of my leggings, between my legs, inside my thong. I squirmed furiously. I was practically humping the floor, slamming my ass against Matt and driving my hips into the wood, and the motion played right into his hands—literally.

He poised two fingers at my entrance; I jammed my sex onto them and cried out.

“Stop!” My voice was hoarse.

On some level, I knew that Jamie might hear us from her condo, but I didn’t care. I screamed bloody murder while Matt laughed and fingered me.

He told me I must want it. He told me how wet I was.

I writhed on his fingers, trying to get away and succeeding only in stimulating myself.

The pressure of Matt’s body lifted. I had a moment. A moment to move. I gave a great push. Matt’s fingers, though, were hooked over my leggings and thong, and when I lunged forward, the fabric dragged down my thighs.

The cool air of the condo hit my bare ass. I moaned.

Matt pounced on me. He wound my hair around his hand and yanked.

The skin of my inner thighs was slippery with lust, and though I squeezed my legs together tight, I felt the head of Matt’s cock pressing between them.

Damn … I wasn’t the only one enjoying this.

I closed my eyes and panted. “Please. No…” God, but it felt good to say no. Why?

“Shhh,” he whispered. “You see how hard I am? Now, where do you want it?”

Between my clenched thighs, Matt’s cock felt larger than ever. It throbbed and I groaned. My arms were sore. I couldn’t catch my breath.

If this were real, would I give up the fight? I felt exhausted, and Matt wasn’t even winded. His superior strength overruled me.

“Where?” he taunted. He nudged his cock against my * and then up, toward my ass. My breath caught. “If you don’t say your *, I’ll put it in your ass.”

“No, no…”

“Say it.”

“My *,” I whispered.

Matt penetrated me in one thrust. My body tightened, resisting the invasion, and my low, humiliated moan cut away when he wrapped a hand around my neck. My eyes rolled. My nostrils flared. Fuck … this felt amazing.

Matt moved against me ruthlessly, and he whispered yes, yes … God, yes, lost in his private ecstasy. I stopped struggling. I saw spots, white and yellow. Matt hadn’t undressed; he’d only freed his cock. The zipper on his jeans scraped my thigh. Our bodies slapped together and thumped against the floor. I lapped at his palm. I was close, so close.

“It’s over,” he groaned. “Just lie here and take it. It’s over baby, it’s over.”

He was right.

I came—a spasm that squeezed Matt’s hardness, then pushed with equal force—and made a sticky mess on the floor. My pleasure was a throaty howl.

“Fuck!” he snarled. “Ah—I’m coming, Hannah, Hannah—” As he sometimes liked to do, Matt pulled out and jerked off, and he came on my bottom.

I felt his pleasure dripping down my crack. It trickled over my swollen *.

We lay together on the floor collecting our wits.

I caressed Matt’s face and he checked me over for scrapes.

A moment ago, he was convincing in his force. Now he was convincing in his gentle concern. I didn’t ask myself which was the real Matt. People are light and dark.

“Who knew?” he murmured, kissing my throat. “You like it so rough, Hannah.”

“I didn’t know until today. Hey, you like it, too…”

“Mm, you noticed.” He smiled and pulled me to my feet, rolling my leggings back up and smoothing my sweater back down. When he saw my wet spot on the floor, his smile turned to a satisfied smirk. “You really enjoyed it…”