Matt had a sprawling, high-rise apartment in downtown Denver. I probably should have guessed. The rooms were clean and modern, harshly white, with light hardwood floors and gorgeous area rugs. The fixtures were all of matching brushed metal and the décor was spare but tasteful. I recognized a framed John Singer Sargent print on the wall.
Matt loomed as I padded through the neat, quiet rooms. Each time I smiled at him, I thought I caught a glimmer of anxiety in his expression. Why would he be nervous? Was my opinion really that important to him?
"This place is lovely," I said. "It's amazing. I can't believe it was ever messy."
"Oh, I had a maid come through," he said.
"Laurence!" I squealed when I saw the rabbit's hutch in the living room. The hutch was as swanky as Matt's apartment, made of beautiful varnished wood with little gold knobs.
"Your lady love is back," Matt said to the rabbit.
We watched Laurence hop around his hutch for a while. Matt's hovering was making me uneasy—and strangely aroused. He hadn't touched me yet, but I knew he planned to. I assumed his bedroom was down the hall.
Was something wrong? Tension and desire made my stomach clench.
We drifted into the kitchen, Matt right at my back.
"Nice." I swallowed and brushed my hand over the granite countertop. Even the kitchen was immaculate.
I could feel Matt behind me. I thought I heard him take a soft breath. My skin prickled. God, if he didn't touch me soon— I exhaled in a rush as Matt brought his chest flush against my back. He pinned me to the edge of the island and cupped my breasts from behind. I moaned.
"Are you ready?" he whispered in my ear.
"Yes," I said immediately, willing volume into my voice.
I had been ready since I woke up that morning. Ready and apprehensive.
"Then bend over the counter."
I did as Matt ordered, though the angle was uncomfortable. The counter dug into my belly and Matt pushed me down against it so that my breasts were squashed.
He was silent as he flipped up my sundress and tucked it around my waist. I thought my exposed ass and pink thong would pull some comment from him, but he remained quiet.
He jerked the string of my thong between my cheeks. A gasp escaped me. Fuck, I was getting nervous.
Matt smoothed a hand into my hair. The thick curls stopped his fingers. He got a handful of hair and yanked, and at once he began to spank my ass hard and fast.
"Matt!" I shrieked. The strands tugging at my tender scalp and the stinging pain on my bottom made me convulse against the counter. Instinctively, I tried to push away from the hard surface, but with Matt's hand in my hair and his strong arm against my back, I couldn't move.
God, I couldn't get away! And god, it was such a turn-on. I remembered Matt's words about teaching me a lesson—about not being gentle.
I had no choice but to take it.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!" I cried out in time with each firm slap to my bottom.
"Hannah," Matt finally growled. "Listen to yourself, god. You're perfect."
He slid his hand under my thong and began to finger me forcefully. I was soaked.
My exes had never humiliated me like this, much less been this rough with me, so I could never have known... how much I loved it.
"Ohhh, god," I breathed.
No sooner had Matt begun to finger me than he was spanking me again. One minute I was trying to wriggle closer to his fingers, the next I was trying to squirm away from his ruthless hand. My ass was hot.
"You're my slut," Matt told me over the slapping sounds and my own degrading cries. "You're mine, Hannah. You were bad to suck me off that night when I wanted to fuck you, and that's why you're getting punished."
He was fingering me again. I twisted and panted. Tears rimmed my eyelids.
"I know you love to suck my dick, Hannah, but I'll put it in your mouth when I want it there. You don't give me pleasure, do you understand? I take it from you."
I lost track of time between the pleasure and pain and Matt's moans and teasing. I was dimly aware of his soft slacks pushing against my leg, and his hard cock. He laughed and told me my ass was glowing. He asked how my breasts felt and whether I'd had enough. He told me my * was tight and needed fucking.