Page 9 of Underground Prince

“Harder.”

His hips would bruise my thighs to match the ones on the top of my head, but that was okay. The slamming of his pelvis against mine, the skin of him sliding in then out of me, drove my hips up, curved my back, and opened my mouth into a deep, accepting O.

The tendons in my neck strained. I was really shoved up here. But I said, “God, yes.”

“You want this?” He groaned again, and swiped his lips across my cheek. “Yeah, lift up, take me deeper, oh, ye—”

“Shut,” I said through my panting. “Up.”

There. I could feel it, building underneath my belly, washing through my pelvis, clenching my thigh muscles and—

“Uuuuuuuung.”

Crap.

He slumped on top of me, groaning into my skin. “Good, babe?”

“Truly amazing,” I said to the ceiling.

After a bit of grunting, he pressed onto his forearms, slipping out of me and rolling to his back.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said, stroking my cheek.

I stilled his fingers. “And you’re not done yet.”

“No?”

For a brief second, he almost looked ashamed enough to cringe.

“Oh,” he said, sitting up. “Sorry, babe. I held it in for as long as I could.”

I lifted one knee so I was exposed enough to entice. “Make it up to me.”

He’d already jumped to his feet, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair.

“I can’t,” he said, fishing on the ground for his boxers. He pulled them on and glanced at me through his fringe of hair, boyish and sexy as he smiled. “Gotta meet my girlfriend in an hour.”

I sat up, bunching the sheets to my chest. “I thought you were meeting her at two.”

“That’s what I thought.” He slid his arms through his t-shirt before hooking it over his head. “Until she texted me when I was heading over here. I would’ve told you, but…” He fixed his shirt around his waist, nailing me with that look again. “You weren’t in the talking mood.”

“Guess not.” I smiled, but the way he stepped back and pulled his brows in, I figured it was more pained than genuine.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said, bending down to lay an open-mouthed kiss on my cheek. “This weekend, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “My place, as usual.”

“Awesome.” He smacked the doorframe with an open palm before pointing at me. “I’ll text you, okay?”

“Sure.” I threw the sheets off, attempting one last sultry, low-lashed seduction. He groaned in response.

Shaking his head, he said, “Vixen,” before shutting the door behind him.

“Bye, Matt,” I said to the closed door.

For a few moments, I stayed in bed in hopes of discovering the pleasant afterglow of intimacy. When the sheets on Matt’s side cooled, I sighed, threw the covers off and scrounged around my room until I found a towel to wrap around myself.

I padded down the hall and across the main room, aiming for the bathroom, but the front door burst open, freezing me in place.