Last Light(50)

“Is that horrible?”

“Not horrible. It wasn’t real. It’s not real.” Matt tucked my head under his chin and stroked my hair. “It’s a fantasy, and you trust me, don’t you?”

I nodded. With the euphoria of orgasm still moving through me, it was easy to forget my troubles: Nate, Seth, and the fact that Matt had risked everything by taking a cab here.

“What we do in our bed is no one’s business,” he said.

“On our floor,” I mumbled.

He laughed, the sound purring in his chest. “Yes, on our floor, too. Behind closed doors.”

I grinned impishly. “Behind broken doors.”

At that, we dissolved into laughter. We inspected the office door. One of the barrel hinges was loose, torn out of the frame. The mechanism inside the knob was busted.

“Oops.” Matt jiggled the knob. His eyes were bright, his expression amused and apologetic. Sheepish Matt … so f*cking adorable.

“Baby, did … did you use your shoulder?”

He glanced at me. “Mm. I was feeling manly. Should have used my foot…”

“Oh, sweetheart.” I ruffled his hair.

“I’ll fix it. Tomorrow or something.” He took my hand and we went through the condo closing blinds. When we were sure no one could see in, I turned on a lamp in the living room. Laurence dashed back and forth in his hutch.

“He’s excited to see you.” I smiled.

“He’s fat and he wants a treat.” Matt fed raisins through the wire mesh.

More Matt adorableness: pretending he didn’t love that rabbit to death.

I sat on the couch and watched Matt prowl around the condo. He glared at everything. He studied the plants and books, opened the kitchen cupboards, looked through the fridge.

“Feels good to be here,” he announced.

“You look good here, Matt.” I worried a pill on my sweater. “Like you belong here.”

“Don’t I look good everywhere?” At last, he returned to me. He wore a small self-deprecating smile. He knelt at my feet and pushed apart my knees. He rubbed my thighs and stared up at me. Beautiful, I thought. Larger than life. Matt filled the rooms of our condo with his anger and his electricity. Did everyone see that, or did I see it because I loved him?

I covered his hands with mine.

“Matt, did you seriously take a cab all the way out here?”

“Mm. Don’t worry, Hannah.” He produced a hat and sunglasses from his coat pocket. A scarf dangled around his neck. “I wore my disguise.”

I sighed and laughed.

“I feel like a spy.” He grinned.

Matt continued massaging my thighs, pushing my dress higher and higher. He looked good on his knees, and I was exhausted, so I let it go. If Matt wanted to take a cab from the cabin to Denver, I couldn’t stop him. He couldn’t be stopped.

The tempo of his hands changed. His expression sobered. Subtle changes I recognized.

I slid off the couch and onto the floor with him. I touched the front of his jeans. Beneath my fingers, his cock twitched and expanded. He exhaled softly.

“Hannah…”

I grasped a handful of his hair so that I could hold his head steady. I didn’t want him hiding his face against my neck. I wanted to watch his eyes, his mouth.

His lips parted as I touched the shape of him. His arousal grew.

“Lift your shirt,” I whispered.

Matt complied. In rare moments, he let me call the shots. He gathered his coat and T-shirt up his chest, and I leaned in to flick my tongue over his nipples.

His cock strained into my hand. Now I could grip it through his jeans and boxers, a taut prison of fabric. I handled him gently as I sucked on his nipple. He began to tremble, but he wouldn’t ask me to stop. So proud. I knew how sensitive his nipples were. Almost too sensitive, he told me once. I bit down and pulled on his other nipple. He hissed. His cock tightened.

“H-Hannah. Take it out…”

“Look at it with me,” I whispered. I tongued saliva over his nipples and lifted my head. His expression was tense—jaw clenched, brows knit, nostrils flared. He nodded and my fingernails scraped against his scalp. I wouldn’t let him go. I wouldn’t let him hide.

While Matt held his jacket, exposing his toned abs and chest, I undid his jeans and tugged at his boxers until his cock sprang free. He sighed again and closed his eyes. If he were given to blushing, I think he would have blushed then.

“Matt, I love it,” I said. I palmed his smooth sac and he groaned. “Please, don’t close your eyes. Look at it with me. I miss you. I miss this.”

His eyelids lifted partway. He watched my hand and his erection, which stood out like a ramrod between us. The golden hair around the base was neatly trimmed. Here, even here, Matt was beautiful. The skin of his shaft was velvet, subtly veined, and thick and long. It ended in the sleek bell of his head, which leaked cum at the slightest attention.

I watched the fluid gather on his tip.

“Look,” I said. I trailed my hand up his shaft to his head and rolled my thumb over it, smearing the cum. He trembled. I brought my thumb to my mouth and spread Matt’s desire like gloss on my lips. I licked them clean while he watched.

Again, I gathered his cum on the pad of my finger. I rubbed it on his nipple and he moaned. “Hannah, enough.”