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After giving her an orgasm that literally shook her so hard it hurt, he took care to hold her steady, keep her safe, which was a good thing because her bones had melted at some point in the midst of it all.
Of course, the second the last pulses of her orgasm faded away, Liza knew she was in way over her head.
Originally, a blow job seemed like the quickest, easiest way out of the situation. He’d gotten her off, she’d get him off, and then she’d run like the hounds of hell were chasing her all the way back down to her hotel room.
Shared orgasms with Matt were one thing. But more of those incredible kisses…sex…lying in bed with him.
God, she wasn’t strong enough to come back from that, and she knew it.
So she’d gone to her knees.
But she’d given herself away. Somehow, he’d known her plan. And he’d called her on it.
In truth, Matt had looked shocked when she’d knelt before him, and that same…awareness…crept in. The feeling that Matt wasn’t just lonely.
He was wounded—and she wanted to ease his pain.
That was when she’d been forced to admit she wanted to give Matt a blow job, wanted to be there on her knees in front of him because his pleasure felt tied to hers. She’d gotten seriously turned on when she’d taken his—holy fuck—thick cock in her mouth. She had just had the mother of all orgasms, but as she sucked him, it felt as if she hadn’t come in years.
Now…here she was, watching as he crawled across the bed toward her.
“Matt,” she started, though she didn’t have a clue what she was going to say after that.
He gripped her ankles, pulling roughly until her back hit the mattress, so that he could cage her beneath him.
Before she was forced to think of something else to say, he lowered his head and kissed her. This kiss, unlike the previous ones, was slower, gentler, but just as dangerous to her sense of self-preservation.
Who the hell taught him to kiss like this?
He held himself above her, his weight resting on his elbows, his body covering hers. His hard-on brushed against her stomach.
He smirked when her eyes widened.
“That’s some world-class recovery time.” She was striving for humor, something to minimalize what they were doing, to break it down into something she could handle.
“If you want to leave, now is the time. I’m not sure…I…”
He was offering her an out, a chance to escape with her heart still intact.
Because that was what was on the line.
She could offer up a million excuses, a million lies, and none of that would change the fact she could very easily fall in love with Matt Russo.
“Do you want to go?” he asked, his voice gruff when she didn’t reply.
Liza shook her head. A smart woman would walk away, but she’d lived on her own for too many years, watched love strike this friend, then a cousin, her brothers, while missing her time and time again.
If this was it for her, if this was all she got, she was going to take it.
“I don’t want to leave,” she whispered.
Matt’s brow creased, and she got the impression she’d given him the wrong response.
“Do you want me to go?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No. Though…”
“I should,” she finished for him.
