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His am I bad at this question echoed in my head as I tried to process what he’d just confided.
Releasing his chin, I dropped my hand. Fury ignited in my veins, battling against the lust already boiling over. “Someone actually said that to you?”
Laughing bitterly, he stepped away. “Guess the actual answer matters now.”
Surging forward, I caught him around the waist, pulling his back against my front to grind my steadfast erection against his ass. “Does it feel like it matters?” I practically growled. “At this point, you could tell me you have a vagina, and I’d still be hard for you.”
He laughed.
The sound made me even more desperate for him.
My lips ghosted over the shell of his ear as I spoke. “Seems to me he was the shitty lay and he knew it. Instead of admitting he couldn’t satisfy, he turned it around on you instead.”
Matthew shrugged, not agreeing or disagreeing. “When I came to Westbrook, I decided to keep my orientation on the down-low so random hookups weren’t really possible.”
“Maybe random hookups aren’t your thing,” I murmured. And maybe he needs a lover who isn’t a selfish asshole who will take the time to learn about his needs.
He twisted in my hold, turning until our chests bumped, height well matched so our stares were almost even. And right now, swirling in his was cautious hope.
“Are they yours?”
“No,” I told him, even if they once were. It didn’t matter now because he changed everything. “You are.”
He pushed up on tiptoes, something I found extremely endearing considering he didn’t really need to. He did it anyway, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pressing in like he couldn’t get close enough.
Our kiss was fervent, his whimpers confiding how touch-starved and desperate for physical affection he was. Rising to the challenge, I bunched the hem of his shirt and tugged up, the fabric forcing our lips apart so I could pull it overhead.
He came back instantly, and I laid my palm against his chest, feeling the thundering pace of his heart. “Bear,” he whined, pressing against the hand keeping him back.
“Patience, princess. I’m going to give you everything you need, but first, you need to take off these clothes.”
His usual shyness evaporated, lust making him brave as he shoved the joggers down his body, revealing his long, rigid dick. His skin was sinfully smooth, shaved bare, and teasing me with a supple sheen.
His body was lean but every muscle on display, right down to the V-shape cut leading to his dick. “Look at you,” I murmured, dragging my eyes over every inch. “I have never seen anyone so fucking perfect.”
His chest hitched, and I dragged my fingers along the front of his muscled thighs, pushing his joggers farther down. His leg muscles flexed when he fumbled with my shoes that were still on his feet, trying to kick them off with his pants around his knees.
Tangled, he made an impatient sound, and I laughed under my breath but dropped down to help. His breath caught with me crouched in front of him, face in line with his throbbing dick. His abs contracted when I stared up his body to capture his stare.
“I think I like being on my knees for you, baby.”
His head bobbed, watchful stare glimmering with what looked like awe. Almost as if he couldn’t believe someone could want him.
Upon that thought, a wave of hurt gusted through my middle, and I leaned in, licking up his shaft to make myself feel better.
He groaned, grabbing his dick and pushing it down so it was straight off his body and pointing at me.
“Such a polite invitation,” I murmured. “Good boys deserve rewards.”
I swallowed him down, relaxing my throat to take him as deep as I could manage. His swollen head brushed my gag reflex, and my throat spasmed around him, but I locked it down and pushed farther. His fingers tangled in my hair, tugging to just this side of painful as his hips strained toward me, thighs trembling with the urge to thrust.
I held still until my throat burned, then slowly pulled back, noting the string of saliva that followed as I pulled off. His body relaxed, but I kept hold of his rod and sucked the tip into my mouth, licking over the slit.
A surprised sound ripped out of him, his body bouncing back onto his toes. Leaving my lips around him, I looked up, wondering if I’d gone too far.
Still straining on his tiptoes, his chest rose and fell rapidly, the corded muscles in his arms on display. His stare was unfocused, cheeks hot pink, and lips parted in awe.
Pulling back, I asked, “Was that okay? Did it feel weird?”
