immediately ceased chanting her name and started in with rock star, rock star, rock star ! She felt her lips tilt up in a satisfied grin. Damn straight, rock star. Call her Mick Jagger because—
Someone shifted behind her in the gigantic guest bed and Lucy stifled a squeak of panic. A heavy arm slipped around her midsection, rugged male stubble scraping her neck, accompanied by a satisfied noise. A clean scent filled her nose, mouthwateringly masculine. It calmed her, even as it made her belly flutter with sudden nerves. Matt had stayed over last night? She didn’t remember him carrying her to bed, nor had she let herself think past their stolen moments together. Not with Matt, who continued to be elusive.
Despite his attempt to punish her in the park, she’d quickly transitioned from anger to a puddle of trembling need. Something that seemed to happen frequently where Matt was concerned. She’d heard the rawness in his voice and had no choice but to open the door. His expression as he’d stood silhouetted by the streetlamp had been her final undoing. Regret had been a living thing written all over his face. Before she’d formed a rational thought, he’d been touching her, kissing her, talking to her in a hushed, overtly sexual manner that gave her goose bumps every time it whispered through her mind. Instead of giving him hell like she’d planned on doing if they ever crossed paths again, she’d spread her thighs quicker than a Pilates instructor.
She didn’t know what it meant that he’d never, at any point last night, taken his own pleasure. She’d been more than willing to give it to him, remembered telling him so explicitly on more than one occasion, in fact . Yet he’d continued to deny himself, even though he’d been noticeably aroused. As in, wood for days . However, orgasms notwithstanding, they hadn’t actually talked about what seemed to keep happening between them, so in the light of day, last night felt kind of like one of those dreams that leaves you feeling anxious and confused about its meaning.
His hips pushed against her bottom then, thoroughly distracting her. Arousal laced through her when she felt his erection, throbbing and insistent behind her. Since he hadn’t spoken, she didn’t know if he was awake or if his body did all the talking. His muscled arm tightened, drawing her back against his chest, grinding his hips slowly, melting her into a sensual puddle. She felt him shift, then the sound of a foil rapper being ripped open. His hand slipped between their bodies to roll on a condom.
“Going to fuck you now, Lucy,” he growled into her hair.
Her breath caught. “About time.”
His hand traced up her throat to her jaw and squeezed. “Watch the way you speak to me.”
A furious beat began pounding within Lucy. How many sides were there to this man? Cherishing one minute, demanding the next. She couldn’t keep up, yet both sides did incredible things to her. At the movie last night, she’d been upset over his using her lie as a reason to withhold pleasure, but up to that point the delayed gratification had been a huge turn-on. Even after what they’d done so far, she suspected he was still holding back. She wanted more…all of it.
“I’m sorry,” she heard herself say, the sound of her hoarse apology somehow turning her on even more. So did the fact that she hadn’t actually seen his face yet, only heard his voice, felt his body. It felt like an erotic fantasy, except her body’s reactions told her she was most definitely wide-awake.
Swiftly, Matt yanked her panties down to her ankles. Holding her breath, she kicked them off the rest of the way, anxiously waiting for his next move. His hand rested on her knee for a moment, the touch in itself sending pings of electricity racing along her skin. Then he jerked it high and pulled it back to rest on his thigh, leaving her open, her center exposed.
“Did I, or did I not, lick your beautiful pussy last night until you
Someone shifted behind her in the gigantic guest bed and Lucy stifled a squeak of panic. A heavy arm slipped around her midsection, rugged male stubble scraping her neck, accompanied by a satisfied noise. A clean scent filled her nose, mouthwateringly masculine. It calmed her, even as it made her belly flutter with sudden nerves. Matt had stayed over last night? She didn’t remember him carrying her to bed, nor had she let herself think past their stolen moments together. Not with Matt, who continued to be elusive.
Despite his attempt to punish her in the park, she’d quickly transitioned from anger to a puddle of trembling need. Something that seemed to happen frequently where Matt was concerned. She’d heard the rawness in his voice and had no choice but to open the door. His expression as he’d stood silhouetted by the streetlamp had been her final undoing. Regret had been a living thing written all over his face. Before she’d formed a rational thought, he’d been touching her, kissing her, talking to her in a hushed, overtly sexual manner that gave her goose bumps every time it whispered through her mind. Instead of giving him hell like she’d planned on doing if they ever crossed paths again, she’d spread her thighs quicker than a Pilates instructor.
She didn’t know what it meant that he’d never, at any point last night, taken his own pleasure. She’d been more than willing to give it to him, remembered telling him so explicitly on more than one occasion, in fact . Yet he’d continued to deny himself, even though he’d been noticeably aroused. As in, wood for days . However, orgasms notwithstanding, they hadn’t actually talked about what seemed to keep happening between them, so in the light of day, last night felt kind of like one of those dreams that leaves you feeling anxious and confused about its meaning.
His hips pushed against her bottom then, thoroughly distracting her. Arousal laced through her when she felt his erection, throbbing and insistent behind her. Since he hadn’t spoken, she didn’t know if he was awake or if his body did all the talking. His muscled arm tightened, drawing her back against his chest, grinding his hips slowly, melting her into a sensual puddle. She felt him shift, then the sound of a foil rapper being ripped open. His hand slipped between their bodies to roll on a condom.
“Going to fuck you now, Lucy,” he growled into her hair.
Her breath caught. “About time.”
His hand traced up her throat to her jaw and squeezed. “Watch the way you speak to me.”
A furious beat began pounding within Lucy. How many sides were there to this man? Cherishing one minute, demanding the next. She couldn’t keep up, yet both sides did incredible things to her. At the movie last night, she’d been upset over his using her lie as a reason to withhold pleasure, but up to that point the delayed gratification had been a huge turn-on. Even after what they’d done so far, she suspected he was still holding back. She wanted more…all of it.
“I’m sorry,” she heard herself say, the sound of her hoarse apology somehow turning her on even more. So did the fact that she hadn’t actually seen his face yet, only heard his voice, felt his body. It felt like an erotic fantasy, except her body’s reactions told her she was most definitely wide-awake.
Swiftly, Matt yanked her panties down to her ankles. Holding her breath, she kicked them off the rest of the way, anxiously waiting for his next move. His hand rested on her knee for a moment, the touch in itself sending pings of electricity racing along her skin. Then he jerked it high and pulled it back to rest on his thigh, leaving her open, her center exposed.
“Did I, or did I not, lick your beautiful pussy last night until you
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