Page 82 of Never Forever

It was another cocky grin in the dark, a breathy chuckle that called bullshit without a word. He shifted his hand between my legs and I bit back my moan. His thumb found my clit, hard and vibrating with the need to be touched. With one hard swipe of his thumb, I almost screamed. Pleasure so sharp it hurt.

But I wasn’t about to come first. Not if I had to chew off my own arm to distract myself.

I slipped my hand back between his legs, reaching down to cup his balls. I felt his tremor, the hitch in his breath. MattSullivan, for a silent guy, couldn’t shut up in bed. He was full of praise and demands and commentary.

This time he kept his mouth shut, like he couldn’t trust what he might say.

I curled my hands around him, touching him the way he’d taught me to years ago.

Still he was silent.

“How does that feel?” I whispered, licking his ear lobe. Raking it with my teeth.

“Can’t…” he swallowed. “Can’t feel a thing.”

“Hmm,” I said, squeezing him tight. “Guess I need to try harder.”

In retaliation, he slipped another finger between my legs, his thumb tracing those hard circles against my clit. I smacked my hand against the wall, just trying to stay upright.

“Nothing for you either?” he asked, his eyes glittering in the dark. “Funny. I remember you used to like this. A lot.”

“People…” I shook my head, trying to keep myself in one piece. “Change.”

“Oh,” he said. “How about this?”

The rat bastard leaned down and sucked my nipple through my shirt. Sending my eyes rolling back in my head.

Don’t,I told my orgasm, like it was a disobedient child. I imagined shaking my finger at a buzzing ball of sensation and telling her to behave.Don’t even think about it.

But then he bit down on my nipple. Just a little. Just enough that I jerked away, bashing the wall with my hand.

“What’s the matter, Carrie?” he muttered, his lips pressed between my breasts. “Starting to feel something now?”

“Nope, just swatting at a fly.”

His sharp bark of laughter was too much. Familiar when I needed him to be a stranger.

“I seem to remember,” I gasped, keeping my head together through sheer force of will. “You liked this too.”

I put my hand on his shoulder, slowly slipping it down his chest, across those pecs. My manicured nail scraped his pebbled nipple. I heard him swallow.

My hand eased back into his pants. His skin so warm. His cock so impossibly hard, I could feel his heartbeat. I squeezed him again and he cupped my head in his hands. His fingers in my hair, his palms against my cheeks.

Somehow it was that touch, the nearly innocent feel of his warm calloused hands against the sensitive skin of my face. So familiar. So intimate. It nearly undid me.

Unable to stop myself, I moaned and he pulled his hands away, bracing himself against the wall.

Like he didn’t want to touch me anymore than he had to.

The thought was sobering. But I wasn’t losing this competition because my feelings were hurt. No. Pride was on the fucking line and this jerk was coming if it was the last thing I did.

He taught me what he liked in the bed of his truck, in this room. The joke I made at the bandshell about him coming fast, had been nearly hilariously true.

Only because he’d once taught me everything I needed to know about exactly how to get Matt Sullivan off. Cum leaked from the tip of his cock and I used it to slick up the length, as I squeezed him just right. Faster and then slower. Just the tip. The whole time trying to divorce my brain from the reality of him. Him in my hand. Him against my body.

Matt. It was Matt I was touching. His breath was hard and loud.

But his silence was so strange. It made me feel vulnerable without his constant and steady feedback. Did he really not like this? I wondered. Was I doing it wrong? I mean, my experiencewas limited to him and if he didn’t like this, well, I guess he could only blame himself.