The Muse's Undoing

“I meant it as a compliment.”

I don’t know what that means, but then he gives me a sexy grin, grips my cock, and folds his body to wrap his mouth around it. He’s groaning the moment my crown hits his tongue. His body bends, slides, and reorients until he’s on his other side, and his own leaking cock is staring me in the face.

I turn toward him, and he runs a hand over my hip, resting his fingers between my ass cheeks as he sucks me to his throat. His mouth might actually kill me. He uses it so wickedly well. I brace myself for the onslaught I know is coming before I lick my lips and taste him.

Spice and musk. Dark and fucking delicious. My jaw is all warmed up from the kissing, so I’m able to fit him in with one try. And fuuckkk…he’s satin on steel. So hard and so soft and so fucking good my hips buck, making him grunt and give me a rough swallow. I groan helplessly, not sure why this sounded like a good idea, but it’s a whole different kind of overwhelmingly impossible. I’m gonna come in two seconds. All I can do is try my best to focus and get him there with me.

As much as I want to play with his ass the way he’s teasing mine, Matthew’s dick requires a hand.

We fall into a pattern of sucking and being sucked, giving each other breaks as we work through how to deal with doubling our pleasure.

I’ve definitely missed sucking cock, and it’s obviously Matthew’s favorite hobby. He’s voracious and ruthless, too. Not only does he avidly deep throat, but he probes my slit like he wishes he could sink his entire tongue inside it. It’s the hardest sensation to bear, making me unbearably warm and restless, punching the breath straight from my lungs.

“Jesus…don’t stop…” I groan incoherently around his shaft.

He gently fucks into me, and I take each thrust. His breaths shorten. “I’m close. That’s so good, princess. I’m so close…fuck…”

He rubs his open mouth across my crown as his sounds grow more chaotic and his cock gives a telltale jerk.

“You’re making me come, Fischer…oh, God, oh shit…I’m coming…. Uunnhhh…unhhh…sshhiiit…”

I hold him firmly as his cock twitches violently in my hand, his load splashing the back of my throat in several strong bursts. I swallow and suck, swallow and take the rest as he makes all those tortured sounds I’ve been dying to hear all night.

As his cock settles, I draw in a breath, but when he sticks a finger in my ass and engulfs my dick until his nose is buried in my sac, I lose my goddamned mind.

“Matthew!” I shout, and I sound terrified, but he apparently gets that I’m not asking him to stop because he doesn’t until I’m coming so hard I’m practically sobbing on his stomach.

32

MATTHEW

Fuck. Me.

I can’t get enough of him.

All the signs are there. Visions. Possessiveness. Fantasies. Need. So much fucking need. I’m coming for his mouth again, and he might not be prepared, but I can’t stop myself. In this moment, on this bed, he is everything. My forever obsession.

He grasps for me, and I wrap my arms around him, using my entire body to kiss him and hold him and want him. His legs lock around mine and we grind together as we pant and kiss. Sweat gets involved, and we’re slick against each other, which just makes it hotter and better.

My praise game needs work, though. The only words I hear myself saying are “God, you feel good. Fuck, that’s so good.” And he deserves better than that. He needs to know he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me—the best I’ve ever had.

But I’m in an inner frenzy, which I’ll have to forgive myself for later. I need inside him so badly, and with any luck I’ll be able to reset and string a coherent sentence together to tell my princess how profoundly I worship him, how he makes me ache and ache.

My erection gradually reasserts itself as it humps his soft, spent cock. His tongue is greedy as hell. I realize, to a degree, we’ve both been holding back, trying to feel out what we wanted from this arrangement—or what was possible.

All that’s out the window now. I want my dirty little secret now more than ever.

“Fuck me, fuck me,” he begins to chant between soul-sucking kisses.

I’d give literally anything in the world to be able to slide inside him this second. Cursing lube and cursing myself for being such a total slut, I try to make the transition as smooth as possible. After kissing my way down his throat and chest, paying extra attention to his gradually firming dick, I slide off the bed and grab my pants from the floor. I pull out a decent-sized tube of lube and a box of condoms from the thigh pocket.

“Do we need the condom?” he asks, and the question twists my gut.

“It’s not you, it’s me,” I say.

His brow flinches with a frown he quickly erases. “You don’t always use condoms?”

“I do, but I’m also paranoid.” I mean I use condoms… I’m not sure I always make sure the other guy does…