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She blew out a long breath when his fingers slid along her slit. She fought against the pants and panties that prevented her from spreading her thighs wide. She wanted to be open to him completely, wanted him to find all those places now screaming for his touch.
Matt slid two fingers through her wet heat, starting at her clit—which needed so much more attention than the brief stroke—before sliding over her opening and back to her ass.
“Are you going to be good?” he asked.
Liza was still pressed down on the pillow, but she didn’t need to lift her head to respond. She shook it. “No.”
He chuckled darkly. “Correct answer.” He drove two fingers inside her pussy.
Liza gasped, especially when she realized she was already on the verge of coming. There was no way. This was too fast.
Her back arched, her entire body caving in on itself as the orgasm struck with the force of a two-ton truck.
“God! Matt!”
He finger fucked her all the way through the orgasm, not letting up until the last vestiges of it faded away.
Then he pulled them out, gripped her waist, and flipped her to her back.
“I’m going to fuck you hard,” he growled. “But I don’t want to hurt your knee.” As he spoke, he dragged her pants and panties off, tossing them to the floor before tugging his T-shirt over his head.
“Take that shirt off,” he demanded, looking at her top like it was an affront to mankind.
She sat up to strip it and her bra off before flopping back down as he stood briefly, adding his boxers to the pile of clothes on the floor by the bed.
Crawling back onto the mattress, he shoved her legs apart, his gaze taking in her naked body. He stroked a single fingertip down the center of her chest, starting at the base of her throat, stopping just below her navel.
Liza shivered at the soft stroke, her eyes locked on his thick, hard cock. She’d been lying to herself a lot since the gala, trying to convince herself his dick hadn’t been that fucking spectacular, that his body didn’t look like it was chiseled from stone.
All those lies were blown out of the water now because the truth was, he was better than she remembered.
Matt bent forward, reaching for the nightstand drawer to pull out a condom. She watched as he slid it on, her body growing tight with anticipation.
Once covered, Matt wasted no time caging her beneath him. The almost savage look in his eyes told her that she hadn’t been the only one slowly going insane without this.
He placed the head of his dick at her opening and then, he did exactly as he’d promised—or maybe threatened. He took her hard, fast, with that thick cock stretching her to the limits of comfort and a little beyond.
Liza’s finger dug into his shoulders as he rocked her body roughly with each pounding thrust.
Within a dozen relentless strokes, he had her there again, right on the precipice of coming. She dragged one hand down her stomach, intent on firing the kill shot. Her fingers never reached her clit as Matt grasped her wrist, pulling it to the pillow beneath her head. Then he grabbed the other, placing it in the same position, one that felt a hell of a lot like surrender.
His movements—dammit—slowed as well.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Her initial thought was “oh shit” because there was no denying he was pissed.
“I was right there,” she explained lamely.
“So?”
“So I always…I need to…usually with other lovers?—”
“Don’t ever talk about other men when you’re in bed with me.” His tone was harsh, loud, laced with…jealousy? “I’m in charge of your orgasms. Only me. Do you understand?”
She nodded, then, strangely, felt compelled to say, “I’m sorry.”
Her apology appeased him, his features smoothing out. “I know you’re used to taking care of yourself…in bed.”
