by Selena Scott
He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that something had been wrong, really wrong, right before she left. He hadn’t liked her going off alone, even if it was straight into her family’s arms. He would have felt a lot better if he could have gone with her. He knew that was ridiculous. He did. They hadn’t even been making out for a week, they hadn’t even slept together yet.
But he couldn’t help it. Something hadn’t seemed right, and he’d really, really wanted to be next to her.
It was 8 pm and he decided to quit for the night. He’d eat a quick dinner, jump in the shower and wait around for Inka. He probably should take a run, he knew, but he didn’t want to risk missing her when she got back. Even though she’d said she’d be late. He didn’t care.
By 10 pm, Matt’s hair had dried and one of his knees jumped against the leg of his chair as he stared blankly down at the game of solitaire before him. He hadn’t made a move in five minutes.
Why? Because he was currently caught up in a daydream about Inka. He imagined her holding cards in her hand. Frowning down at them, realizing that she’d lost again. This time it would be her bra that she had to remove. He pictured the slow slide of that yellow satin down her arms, the pretty pink flush of those lush breasts.
His hands tightened on the cards. Even imaginary Inka had him hard enough to pound nails. He knew now that he’d never wanted someone more than he wanted her in this moment. He more than wanted her. He needed her.
***
The weekend hadn’t turned out anything like Inka might have thought it would. She’d never loved her family more. They’d supported her and risen to her defense when she’d finally told them the truth about why she’d moved to New York. And they’d hemmed and hawed over what to do about Matt. Ultimately, they’d landed on the side of her telling him. Everything.
Even Ansel had had to admit that he seemed like a pretty good guy. And if his research did what he said it did, then he could drastically improve all of their lives.
Inka’s stomach jumped as she carefully navigated her Jeep through the streets of Manhattan. She couldn’t believe that she was going to invite Matt back to Green Mills. Matt was going to know everything.
She gripped the wheel and shifted in the driver’s seat as she pictured him sitting next to her in the car. She wondered if he’d be a serious passenger or if he’d lean over and kiss along her neck at a stop light. Her legs parted of their own accord and Inka pictured Matt’s large hand sneaking underneath the dress she wore. She imagined him leaning over the console and stroking one of those big fingers right into her.
A little noise came out of her throat as she pulled into the underground lot of the building. There was heat in her cheeks and barely any breath left in her body. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to get to him. It was almost midnight, but he’d said that no time was too late. Even if it had been unspeakably rude, she would still go over there. Honestly, she didn’t even feel like she had a choice.
Her body was going to make her go to him now.
She was off the elevator before the doors had even opened fully. And she was at his door less than a second later. She considered going to Milla’s and tossing her overnight bag down, but her self-control snapped and she slipped through Matt’s unlocked door instead.
“Hi!” She was shocked to see him awake. She’d expected to slip into bed with him and drift off alongside him. But no, he sat at the kitchen counter in flannel pants and an undershirt. And then he stood.
His sharp blue eyes were smoldering and he was breathing hard. A few days of growth lined his jaw. And he grinned at her.
“Inka.”
He was across the kitchen and Inka barely had time to toss her jacket over her bag before he had her up in his arms, pressed against the door, her legs around his waist.
Her heart turned over in her chest as she slid her hands into his hair.
“Missed you,” she muttered as she lowered her head to his.
“Inka,” was all he said.
She moaned into his mouth when he teased her lips open, pressed his tongue against hers. She realized with that sort of mind bendy tipping that sometimes happens that this was her friend Matt, Matt Woods, who was currently kissing her into a heart attack. Her mind struggled, for a second, to combine the man who she’d become friends with and the man who instantly made her panties wet.
Something about that made her even wilder for him. She felt his huge hands at her ass and she moaned again, reaching between them to pull up the skirt of her dress. She tugged up his shirt at the same time and she unabashedly rubbed herself against his lower stomach.
“Fuck,” Matt growled as he leaned her harder into the door. He grabbed her lower lip between his teeth and needled it. She was so soft everywhere. He could feel her wet heat against his bare skin and he was going to lose his mind.
He couldn’t take it.
His hands still on her ass, Matt lifted his hips and lowered her just a touch so that it pushed the band of his flannel pants down an inch and then another.
Soon, Inka could feel his pubic bone against her clit and the base of his cock in the cleft of her ass.
There was nothing between them but the peachy satin of her underwear.
She moaned and leaned her head back against the door, her fingers grabbing for his shirt and scratching the hell out of him instead. He didn’t care. It fueled him. He loved that he could make his gentle Inka go out of control like that, that she could need him so badly she’d scratch him.
“Yes,” she whispered, and reached between them again.
Matt pulled back from where he’d been sucking on her neck and his eyes zeroed in on her hand between them. Was she? Yes—God—she was.
Inka yanked the satin to the side, baring herself to him and immediately rubbing her naked clit against his pubic bone.
He gritted his teeth and saw stars. This was the most delicious torture of his life.
He thought about dragging her to the floor but then she tossed her head back against the door and opened those wide, unseeing greens. “Oh, Matt,” she whispered.
He wouldn’t have moved them for anything after that. He gripped her ass tight, leaned her back into the door and ground himself against her.
His cock was snug against her ass and she was rubbing her clit in tight circles against him. He could feel her body tightening, he could taste the sweat at her neck, and then, when she detonated, he heard his own name on her lips.
She melted in his arms, but still she worked that warm, wet pussy against his body. He’d never felt a softer, more tempting woman in his entire life. He wanted so badly to rear back and push into her. But more than anything he was intrigued by what had just happened.
He’d never made a woman come like that before. Using nothing but the side of his cock and his pubic bone. He kind of wanted to see if he could do it again.
He let Inka slide down, making sure she had her footing before he tugged her to the ground on top of him. She laughed and kissed him deeply. But he didn’t waste much time.
Matt rolled out from under her and put Inka on all fours. Her eyes lit with sex and fire and all Matt could do was grin at her, sweep a hand over her back.
But then he frowned at the long, winter dress she wore and he quickly slipped it off of her, putting it carefully under her knees. And then he sat back and tried to remember his own name. Because she was on her hands and knees before him in a black bra, pink panties and black woolen leg warmer thingies that only went up to her thighs.
He didn’t waste any time. Smoothing a hand over her back one more time, Matt got behind Inka and dragged his pants down to his knees. He slid his fingers underneath the edge of those pink panties and dragged it all to one side. And there she was. Pink and wet and perfect. Everything in Matt’s body pulled tight at the beautiful sight of her.
Inka’s hands curled against the kitchen floor as Matt pushed himself alongside her, through her. She dropped her head and watched as her pussy kissed the side of his
cock as his hips pressed flush against hers from behind. He wasn’t going to push in without warning, Inka knew, because she knew him. So she dropped her forehead to the floor and glued her eyes to the sight between her legs. Matt pulled back and then pushed forward again. His cock lunged forward, pressing all the way through her clit to smash against her soft lower stomach. When he did it again, this time Inka pressed down with him and ground her clit against his shaft as it passed forward and backward.
“Fuck,” he groaned again and Inka grinned, her head still down. She couldn’t believe that this was Matt doing this to her. So quiet, so reserved. The same Matt who’d blushed when he’d touched a bra in the lingerie store was now gripping her by the hips and making her come on his cock. Because she really didn’t even have to work for that, the way she usually did. She was close and getting closer with every second. Inka pressed her knees closer together, raising her ass and creating more friction between her thighs for Matt.
“Ah, God, shit,” he groaned and his hips picked up speed. Inka’s body pulled tight as she watched a vein protrude from along the side of Matt’s cock. His thrusts went from quick and shallow to full and forceful. She could hear the slap of his skin against hers, the rough break of his breath at each stroke.
She wanted to hold on. She wanted to wait and come with him. But her pleasure tore free and had her sailing away. Inka left sweaty handprints on his kitchen floor that Matt burned into his brain as her hair came loose from her bun and she spiraled into tight, liquid heat. She was trembling then, and the second she was done coming, Matt braced her hips with a hand underneath her. He pulled her back, so her back was to his chest and his aching cock was smashed between them.
Matt dropped his head for a kiss and she tipped back and greeted him. Her mouth had never been warmer or looser, or more his. This was his house, his kitchen, and looking down at Inka, he had the overwhelming feeling that this was his woman. Made for him and him for her.
Carefully, Matt rose with her, his arms around her body to steady her, and he led her toward the bedroom. But she leveraged her weight, utilized gravity, and had him tumbling, instead, to the couch.
“You’d prefer the couch?” he asked on a laugh.
“It’s kind of our place.”
“It is,” he agreed. And then stripped off his shirt. Matt leaned back, sitting up on the couch and spreading his legs wide, and pulled her onto his lap, his cock still out and straining between them.
Her eyes dropped and widened in that way that he loved and she was just reaching for him when he reached back and unclipped her bra with one deft hand.
Inka blinked as he tossed it aside, his eyes glued to her breasts.
She looked at her bra on the floor. “That was pretty smooth.”
“I had a good incentive,” he murmured before leaning forward and taking a taste of one of her pretty nipples.
Matt’s hands were everywhere as he first just kissed one nipple and then the next. And then he licked. And then he sucked, long and slow pulls punctuated by quick little rolls of his teeth. He molded and shaped her body and soon his breath was coming out in tense clouds, a groan trying to claw its way out of his chest.
When he cleared his head enough to look up, what he saw absolutely floored him. Inka straddled him, her head thrown back and her hair tumbling everywhere. There was a flush spreading over her chest, turning her cheeks peach, and those eyes. God, those eyes. Green and wide and half closing with each delicate, fragile breath that tore its way out of her.
He was humbled to be here with her. To get to see this. To partake.
“Inka.”
Her eyes fluttered open. But his thumbs painted circles over her nipples and she was drowning as often as she was surfacing.
“Mariposa, everything I ever did in my life, every decision. Every mistake. Every time I got kicked out or pushed down. Seeing the window in Galicia. All of it. It led me here. Right here to this room with you on my lap.”
She looked like she was trying hard to listen, but she hissed and tossed her head back when he leaned forward and sucked one of her nipples deep into his mouth, suckling at her.
“I’m grateful, mariposa,” he muttered into the flesh of her breasts, and then when he rolled her onto her back, he spoke the words again into the skin of her stomach.
She was splayed over his couch, her hair everywhere and her mouth slack. She gripped the cloth in her fists and Matt kept his eyes on hers as he drew her underwear down her legs, tossing it aside. Matt leaned forward, planting one of her legs on the back of the couch. He stared at that leg for a second, drew her leg warmers down and tossed those too. Then he leaned up to that bent leg of hers and planted a kiss at the back of her knee. A kiss that lingered and drew out. He used his nose, moved her leg to get what he wanted and painted pictures on the sensitive skin there.
By the time he’d tossed her other leg over his shoulder, Inka was trembling. And when he lowered his head, his eyes zeroed in like her pussy was the last bite of honey he’d get in his life. She watched as he lowered his mouth to her but her vision went black as that smooth-rough-hot-wet thing he called a tongue scooped across her.
Inka arched, her body instantly bowing. She replayed Matt’s face in her head, that first taste that he’d gotten. His eyes were heavy and unseeing, his brow furrowed in pleasure so acute it almost looked like pain. He’d groaned into her and the vibrations were what had sent her back off the couch.
But she couldn’t dwell. Because Matt Woods was losing his mind on her. He sucked at her, slid through her wetness, he buried his tongue, swirled her clit and came up for seconds. Barely any coherent thought could have made it through the haze surrounding her except for one.
Matt was playing in her.
Not that he wasn’t taking it seriously. Because one look at that man’s face confirmed that this was more serious than a heart attack for him. But he wasn’t just going down on her. He wasn’t counting down the seconds. There was absolutely zero due diligence in the house. No, Matt Woods was rejoicing in her pussy. He was at once lazy and energized, slicking himself through her wetness, suckling and pressing. Inka had absolutely no doubt that the man was enjoying himself. And that just catapulted her into a brand new dimension that she hadn’t been sure existed.
She said words that she wouldn’t remember later. But Matt would. She worked her hips against his face. And she wouldn’t remember that either. But Matt would. She also wouldn’t remember grabbing him by the hair when she came so loud, the entire hallway must have heard. But Matt wore his pulled hair as a badge. Not of his sexual prowess, but simply as a reminder of where he was and who he got to be with right that second.
“Grateful,” he murmured into her soft thigh that he found he had to bite. “So fucking grateful.”
She had it in her head to flip them. She wanted, so badly, to make him feel everything that he’d just made her feel. But the second the thought occurred to her, Matt was shifting his weight. He was on all fours over her, lowering his massive, twitching cock to her wetness.
Finally, she thought. And it was the only thought in her head. But he didn’t press inside her. Instead Matt lowered the bottom of his shaft to her clit. And he pulsed.
His eyes found Inka’s. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She’d never in her life been with a more selfless lover. And still he was giving.
“Matt,” she whimpered, her head tossing to one side and then the other. She wanted to tell him that she couldn’t possibly come again. But already she was rising once more, proving herself wrong. She bit her tongue and waited to see what happened.
“Just one more, mariposa. Just give me one more.”
It wasn’t instant. And it wasn’t until he read her, watched and listened and shifted so that he wasn’t pulsing on her sensitive clit, he was pushing up against her lower lips, triggering an orgasm that started from way deep inside her. So deep that Inka felt it spiral out for a full minute before it caught her nerves on fire. She screamed, her t
eeth digging into the tendon between Matt’s neck and shoulder. Her hands clutched at the muscles on his back and Matt reveled in it.
His sweet and gentle girl losing her mind.
Now it was Inka’s time to take charge. She was sure of it. Just as soon as the room stopped spinning. And just as soon as her legs turned back on.
She was vaguely aware of Matt lifting her. “Where are we going?”
“The bed, mariposa.”
Something akin to panic, but much less sharp, blossomed inside Inka. She didn’t want to go to the bed. She wanted to make Matt feel good on the couch. As good as she’d felt.
So as soon as he’d taken a step away from the couch, she swung her weight and toppled them backwards again on to the cushions. They landed half on their sides but with Inka mostly on his lap. Matt was just righting them when she raised up on his lap and lowered herself down, just kissing the tip of his cock with her pussy.
Matt froze. The legs that he’d been tensing to lift her up again spread wide. The movement made her sink an inch onto him and Matt saw Europa, Io, Callisto and a bunch of Jupiter’s other moons that he couldn’t name. He hadn’t, after all, ever made it to that NASA camp.
“Condom,” he groaned, slamming his eyes closed and then ripping them open. He resisted the urge to slap himself across the face. There had to be a cooler way to make himself pay attention to reality.
“Where?” she groaned and sank down another inch.
“Ah, God. Fuck. Motherfuck. I’m clean,” he gasped. He’d just had tests done not three weeks ago, wildly hoping for some situation that was at all similar to this.
“Me, too,” she gasped.
“Thank God,” he groaned and couldn’t help but push in another inch. “Can I get you pregnant?”
Somehow the words fell between them as more of a challenge than a question. Inka’s nostrils flared as her green eyes widened.
Noted.
“Pull out,” she breathed.
