The Muse's Undoing

His smile is soft and surprised. He threads his fingers through the hair on the side of my head. “I’ve had plenty of women. What I haven’t had nearly enough of is you.”

Pure, unfiltered relief floods my veins. That and a healthy dose of extreme lust. “I swear I’ll make up for it if you feel like you’re missing out on anything.”

“You sound a little desperate, Matty.”

I’m way past desperate. I grab him by the waistband and tug him close to me, banding an arm around his back so he doesn’t lose his balance. “You like me desperate,” I say, hoping that’s true.

“I do. It’s cute.” His gaze lingers on mine a moment before he clears his throat and gets serious again. “Now give me your phone.”

“Not right now.” I need to kiss him.

He pulls his head away. “Right now.”

“Fuck, Fischer.”

I’m whining, but he won’t budge. I dig my phone out of my pocket, unlock it, and hand it to him. He swipes directly to my folder of dating apps and starts deleting them one by one. It takes a few minutes. Minutes where our cocks are smashed against each other growing thicker and harder. Mine even gets wet.

Impatient, I lean in and start pressing kisses to his neck. He has to hold the phone at arm’s length to see anything on the screen without his glasses, and that just gives me more time and surface area to work with as he stretches and strains to make me his “special friend.”

Once he’s finally done, he lets out a sigh, tosses my phone on the table and grabs hold of my face. I seize the moment and kiss him. His lips part, opening against mine. His tongue moves in quickly. I sink in, taking hold of his collar to keep him close as I work my tongue deeper and deeper into him. It’s electric. I’m instantly hooked all over again. I can’t believe I thought letting him go home was a good idea. I won’t make that mistake again. I need to get this man into a bed, and I need to keep him there.

He turns his head to take a breath, and I kiss his jaw. Our hips grind. I want out of these pants.

“You’re dangerous,” he says.

“I’m safe, I promise.”

“Not for me.”

“You want to stop?”

I’ll die if he wants to stop.

“I can’t stop,” he admits. “That’s what’s dangerous.”

I’m not complaining. “I need you so fucking bad. Can you feel it? Can you feel how much?” I’m breathless. Aching.

His mouth smashes into mine again even as I unbutton my khakis, and he works open the zipper. I’m in flames as I plunge my tongue further into him. His groan goes straight to my nuts, and now I’m the one whimpering as the pressure in my pelvis takes on a new urgency.

I slide the hand I have on his collar to the back of his neck and re-angle my mouth, wanting as much of him as I can take. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to burrow as deeply inside him as I need, but I refuse to stop trying.

He gets greedy, slipping his hand into my boxer briefs and freeing my cock. He grips it firmly and mindlessly thumbs the tip where precum is pulsing out in erratic spurts. I’m as wet as a girl.

“Matthew…” He yanks his head back, looks down at my dick then back up at me, pupils blown black.

“You okay?” I ask, anxiety spiking. I’m too much. I know this, and maybe now he does, too.

He nods, letting his forehead fall to rest against mine. Our breaths are harsh against each other’s mouths.

“I can’t slow down with you,” I tell him.

“I don’t know…” he whispers. “What if I’m not enough?”

31

FISCHER

Matthew’s kiss is a force of nature, stronger than any hurricane or monsoon I’ve ever stood in. It’s tearing me apart, razing me to my already shaky foundation and addling my mind. He’s thick, hot, and throbbing in my fist. His lips are as shiny, wet, and as swollen as the crown of his cock. His midnight eyes are heavy-lidded with unmistakable want. The way he looks at me is so stirring, so powerful, it’s like staring at the sun.