I forced myself to meet Matt’s gaze as I squeezed my breasts. He tilted his head. The tent in his lounge pants said he was enjoying the show, but fuck, I wanted to see his body. When I rolled my nipples between my fingers, I gasped and Matt’s mouth dropped open.
“God, Hannah.” He pushed off his pants. He braced a hand against the wall and gripped his shaft. My eyes broke from his. I drank in the sight of his sculpted body, his stiff cock, his strong thighs. “This … is how it was, wasn’t it? You touching yourself … me touching myself.”
My eyelids fluttered.
“It was,” I said. “Not anymore.”
“Not anymore.” Matt touched my face. He turned me gently to face the wall and rested his shaft along the cleft of my backside. “Can you tell, Hannah?” Matt gathered my hair with one hand. He kissed my ear. “Can you tell I like it, your tight little lingerie?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“How? How can you tell?” Matt slid his sex up my crack. I pushed out my bottom and clenched my cheeks to grip him. Matt hissed. I grinned. Two could play at this game.
“The way you stare,” I said.
“Mm, what else?” He kissed the corner of my mouth. Lightly, he teased a fingertip over my sex. My desire oozed down his finger.
“Your cock,” I said quietly. I knew that was the answer he wanted.
“Yes. What about it?” Matt rewarded me by lazily circling my entrance with his finger. He pushed his chest against my back, and my heaving breasts met the wall.
“Hard,” I mumbled.
A whisper of laughter crossed the nape of my neck. I reached back and gripped Matt’s hips, trying to draw him closer to my body. His cock throbbed against my bottom.
“That’s right, Hannah. You make my dick so fucking hard.”
I moaned and tried to drive my body onto Matt’s finger, but I couldn’t move.
Matt released me suddenly. My heavy hair fell around my shoulders; the pressure of his body eased and air rushed into my lungs. And then he dragged me down.
Chapter 18
MATT
Fuck … the lingerie. Fuck.
My brain went haywire when I looked at Hannah.
“On the floor,” I said, pulling her down with me. Not for a moment did I let my cock lose contact with her skin. Hannah’s pert ass gripped me—that little devil—as I pressed her onto her hands and knees. I climbed over her.
It was easy, that position, and so intimate. My limbs were longer than Hannah’s. I was stronger, firmer, taller; she fit under me perfectly.
Hannah tried to part her knees on the floor, but her thong constrained her. I tugged on her hair. She moaned and lifted her head.
“I’m going to fuck you on the floor,” I told her.
She stilled beneath me. “Yes, please,” she said in her softest voice.
“I’m not going to come. Not here. But I have to remember…” I reached between my legs. I positioned my head against Hannah’s sex. That touch—her wet cunt brushing the most sensitive part of my body—sent a violent shiver through me.
“Get on my dick,” I growled.
“Matt…” She began to rock back, the tiny motions sliding her onto my cock.
I have to remember how this feels.
“Good, that’s good,” I whispered. “Come on. That’s it…” I didn’t move. I let Hannah take her time, and she took her time. She pushed backward, then slid off me, then back, again and again. Our harsh moans mingled.
At last, Hannah sank onto me fully. Her satin thighs pressed at mine. Her ass fit snugly against my abs. And her tight * held my cock. She quivered below me.
“I love you,” she murmured.
“Hannah, I fucking love you so much.” I bit her shoulder.
We didn’t move—not much. I reached under Hannah and lifted her tits. She circled her hips subtly, moving my dick inside her.
I pinned Hannah’s hand to the floor. I thrust into her once, slowly, and we moaned. Goddamn … I should have rubbed one out earlier in the day. I was never going to last.
Hannah met my second stroke with a backward push. I snarled. “Fuck. Hannah … fuck. I changed my mind. We’re going to come. You’re going to make a mess for me. Right here.”