I watched Matt as I drove my sex over his mouth. Sticky streaks covered his skin. He licked and sucked when he could, but mostly he let me work my rhythm. I understood then what he wanted me to do. He wanted me to bring myself to orgasm like this.
I didn’t miss a beat as I moved. Why should I? So often during sex, Matt forced his erection into my mouth—and I gagged on it with joy. His desire and my degradation were white-hot pleasure for us both. My desire and his degradation were the same.
In the groove of Matt’s mouth, I found a spot to rub my clit. I rode him steadily, my thighs tense as I applied pressure. He stopped spanking me. His hands rested against my sides and his noises quieted. I threw back my head, blood rushing to it, and the colors of the condo swirled kaleidoscopically. All for me—this crazy décor. Our small, safe, happy place.
I closed my eyes and searched for my pleasure.
When the roll of my hips grew tiny and frantic, Matt plunged his tongue into me. He fucked me with it as I came.
I moaned, my voice a hoarse cry, and I rubbed out the whole of my pleasure against his mouth, and it was fire and heaven all over again. That garden where only he took me.
Chapter 42
MATT
We lay together on the floor, sticky and breathless.
“Are you cold?” Hannah whispered.
With her sweet breath blowing across my ear, her body draped over mine, I almost believed we were all right.
“You know I am,” I said, because I always get cold after I come, and she hugged me.
She doted on me for a while—rubbed my sides, kissed my collarbone, and feathered her fingers through my hair—and then she sat up and the spell snapped.
We weren’t all right.
I wiped my face and chest with my T-shirt. I retied my pants.
Hannah swayed as she struggled back into her panties and dress. I watched, detached, rather than reaching to steady her.
My hand ached. Fortunately, Hannah hadn’t noticed me favoring the left.
I retrieved a hoodie from the bedroom and returned to find her standing by the door, her expression inscrutable. Don’t leave, I thought, though I felt so confused. Warring emotions. Loneliness for Hannah. Brittle anger when I remembered Seth.
“I’m sorry,” she said. She plucked her keys out of her purse. “We probably shouldn’t have done that. It confuses everything.”
I folded my arms. “I enjoyed it.”
“Yeah…” She trailed off. Her gaze danced along the floor, pausing where I’d knelt. “Um. Your keys.” She freed our condo and mailbox keys and held them out to me.
I closed her fingers around the keys. “Keep them.”
“Matt—”
“Just keep them. Where are you staying?”
“At a hotel. Alone.”
“Move back in. We don’t have to have sex. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Yeah, because we have so much restraint.” Her gaze loitered on the floor. I could see her deciding that what just happened was a mistake. Fuck. It wasn’t a mistake.
“Tell me what happened with Seth,” I said.
Hannah blanched, her eyes growing wide.
“Tell me,” I insisted. “If you don’t, I’ll keep imagining the worst, and the worst is—”
“I didn’t sleep with him. I didn’t. I never cheated on you. After I left you, though—” Hannah hesitated, and I stared at her mouth, unable to comprehend. She lied to me? She didn’t sleep with him. This is good news. But it feels bad. “Matt, it’s fucking impossible to explain. I was drunk. I gave him a hand job. That’s all.”
Instantly, the image materialized. Sickening. Hannah’s hand on my brother.
I went for my cigarettes, which were on the coffee table.
“Fine,” I said.
“Fine? You’re angry.”
“Yeah, fucking sue me.” I turned away from Hannah. “Of course I am.”
“It was a onetime thing, Matt. It was a mistake. I was drunk … I was messed up. How can you be angry now, when you thought I slept with him before? God, you make no sense.”
I glared at the wall, seething.
“He took advantage of you,” I hissed.