Matteo (26 page)

Chapter 2

I put it in my mouth.

The moment he slid his boxers down his long, muscular legs, I had dropped to my knees on the rug and took his warm, throbbing cock between my lips.

And he thrust into my mouth again and again as he leaned against the wall near the open window in my tiny bedroom. His erection was so thick and long that my eyes burned as it strained against the back of my throat. And when he shot ropes and ropes of cum onto my tongue, I swallowed every drop without complaint.

I couldn’t help myself.

I’m no angel – I’ve had a few one-night stands. But I’ve never gone down on a stranger before. Never have I shared myself in this way with a guy I’ve just met. There’s just something about this man and his beautiful cock – I just couldn’t help myself.

So now, it’s only fair that he return the favor.

I’m spread eagle on my bed, holding the wooden bars of the worn bedhead with white-knuckled force as he pulls my aching clit between his teeth. “Jeeeeeezzzzeee,” is the only word that escapes my lips as the curtains flutter softly in the light summer breeze.

“You like that?” he growls in a taunting voice and when I moan in approval, he rewards me by dragging his teeth along my sensitive flesh yet again.

In the dark room, I can barely see a thing. All I can do is feel.

Feel the warmth of his breath against my thighs.

Feel the tingle of arousal racing across my damp skin.

Feel the crushing need for release that’s building up at the very core of me.

He pushes my legs further apart and my muscles burn with strain. But the sensation of his tongue racing back and forth along my pearl is enough to dull the discomfort.

“You’ve got the sweetest fucking pussy,” he mumbles between laps as my untamed desire gushes out onto his tongue. “The sweetest.”

“Lick it! Lick it!”

I squeeze on the bars of the bed and scream without regard for the fact that it’s already 3:30 in the morning and my neighbors probably don’t appreciate the disturbance. I don’t mean to be inconsiderate but my body has never felt so utterly…
ignited
.

The orgasm rolls over me in wave after wave and the man who provoked this reaction places wet kisses along the insides of my thighs. I push my cheek into the pillow, trying to temper the intensity of what I feel.

Before I can catch my breath, he’s on his knees hovering above me. “I’m so fucking hard. I have to fuck you. Now.” I hear the condom wrapper tearing apart. I feel the bed shift as he sheaths himself.

When his lips touch mine, I’m eager to shove my tongue into his mouth. I grab hold of his ponytail and deepen our kiss. The sharpness of his cock entering my body sends a jolt of pleasure through my system.

“Shit!” I cry out turning my face into the pillow again. “It feels so good.”

“Yes,” he grunts as he thrusts into me with a smooth, confident tempo.

I jerk my hips towards him over and over at a reckless, desperate pace until my body is bucking like a wild animal. My climax is so strong.

“Fuck. You’re. Coming. So. Hard.” He pants as his strong orgasm owns him.

He pumps into me, deeper than deep until the mind-quaking pleasure finally releases its grip on him and he collapses speechless onto the mattress next to me.

Chapter 3

Y’know what’s really annoying?

Waking up in your king-sized bed and trying to roll over only to bump up against a warm, immobile body that doesn’t belong there.

When poking him lightly in his ribs three or four times doesn’t wake him the hell up, I nudge my elbow firmly into his side. Only then does he stir, stretching his long, muscular arms above his head before his piercing blue eyes blink open. He looks over at me and a Cheshire smile spreads across his handsome face.

Whoa! I did good last night
. I mentally pat myself on the back as I evaluate his dark, wavy ponytail, the abs sculpted into his bronzed torso, the dark stubble on his chiseled jaw and the very impressive erection clearly outlined despite the light sheet covering his lower body.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he says in a raspy voice that makes my stomach stir despite myself.

“You need to leave before my roommate wakes up,” I announce dryly as I hop out of bed and start gathering the articles of clothing that he’d discarded on my bedroom floor the night before. My roommate, Hailey, is a true Southern Belle – traditional, judgmental and a straight-up prude. The last thing I need is for her to spy the fine specimen I picked up at the club last night creeping out of here early on this Saturday morning.

“I was thinking we could grab breakfast, Ruth,” the beautiful random says propping himself up on his elbows and peering up at me with his gorgeous, groggy eyes. His sexy, well-defined arms are now on display and that just further piques my hungry desire to saddle up again.

“Look –” Shit, I don’t remember his name.

“Mike,” he offers with a wayward chuckle that moves right through me, awakening desire in every one of my cells.

“Look, Mike – it’s called a one-night stand for a reason. No need to buy me a meal afterwards.” I reach over and pat the top of his head like a little dog. As gorgeous as he is, I have to refuse his offer.

“I never agreed to a one-night stand,” he says, his electrifying blue eyes sparkling with amusement in the glow of the sunlight streaming in through the spaces in my curtains.

“You picked me up at a club, Mike. There’s no riding off into the sunset for us.” Sarcasm is my
forté
, I’ve been told.

“Damn – you’re a jaded one,” he says with resignation as he rolls out of my bed.

“Whatever,” I mumble shoving his clothes at him before shuffling into the bathroom, pulling my long blonde hair into a messy ponytail high on my head.

A part of me – the part that was moaning and howling and climaxing under him all night – wants to give into him. Fall back into my bed and feast on his gorgeous body for breakfast, lunch and dinner. But my tiny, nagging voice of reason won’t quit. I can’t have my way with him. Getting close to him – or any man – will end in disaster.

It always does.

When I walk back into my bedroom a few minutes later, he’s gone, leaving behind the delicious scent of his skin on my sheets. He’s scribbled his phone number onto a scrap of paper and left it on my nightstand. Area code 213. Where the hell is
that
? I know I should crumple the paper up and toss it into the garbage. Instead, I slip it into the bottom of my panty drawer…”What am I doing?” I mutter to myself as I stow his number away. A girl like me doesn’t hook a guy like that.

He’d want nothing to do with me if he knew who I really am.

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