Tempted and Taken, page 10
“I was wrong to dismiss what we shared out of hand. While I’m not interested in an emotional relationship, I am very attracted to you, Liza. I can’t offer you love and marriage, but exploring our sexual desires, expanding on our similar needs, is no longer off the table.”
She closed her mouth, rather than reply, but he could see his words sinking in.
Before they could continue the conversation, the flight attendant approached, offering coffee and dessert. Liza accepted both, though he wasn’t sure if she really wanted them or just needed more time to wrap her head around what he’d proposed.
Once they were alone again, she took a deep breath, and he could read the rejection in her eyes. He had a pretty good idea about why she was hesitant. After all, she’d just told him point-blank she wanted a relationship, but he hoped to convince her to set that aside for a little while. He wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“Matt—” she started.
He shook his head. “No, Liza. Don’t answer me tonight. Take some time to think about it.”
“Okay.”
“Would you like to watch a movie?” he asked, letting her off the hook.
For now.
“A movie would be great.”
They stood from the table, Matt leading her to the couch. Lowering the blinds, the two of them chose a movie, some action-adventure film he’d already seen. Liza attempted to maintain a polite distance from him, but the time for that had passed.
He reached out, tugging her against him, his arm draped over her shoulders. He was pleased when she sank into the embrace rather than seek to move away. Neither of them spoke during the movie, though Matt was certain she wasn’t paying any more attention to it than he was. They’d paused it briefly to return to their seats when they landed in Denver. Once on the ground, they pushed play again, and it ended just as they were about to take off, the plane now refueled and ready for the longer leg of the journey.
Once they were back in the air, Matt unfastened his seat belt. “You can take the bed,” he said, reaching down to help Liza stand. “I’ll sleep out here. These seats recline.”
Liza shook her head. “No. I’m not stealing your bed. I was planning to sleep sitting up in the economy section anyway. The lovely recliner is already a huge step up.”
Matt placed his hand on her lower back, propelling her toward the bedroom. “I’m not going to argue about it. You’re taking the bed.”
He purposely lowered his voice, aware of the way she responded whenever he used that tone.
Liza sighed, allowing him to push her forward. She opened the door, and he followed her in.
“Let me just change out of these jeans and into a pair of lounge pants.” He walked over to his suitcase, rummaging around as Liza sank down on the edge of the mattress.
“If you want,” she started, glancing back at the large bed. “We could share the bed. Platonically,” she hastened to add.
Matt turned to face her, thrilled by the invite. She might not be ready to accept his offer yet, but she was definitely weakening.
“Okay.”
He walked to the opposite side of the bed, not bothering with loungewear at all. Instead, he stripped off his jeans, left his T-shirt and boxers on, then crawled beneath the duvet.
Liza remained where she was, staring at him until he rolled over to face her.
“Get in bed, Liza. I don’t intend to say this to you very often, but for tonight, I will be a perfect gentleman.”
She huffed out a breathy laugh, then climbed into the bed next to him.
For the first time in over a month, the world felt right.
Matt didn’t know what to do with that feeling, so instead he shut it down, ignored it, and turned off the light.
Chapter Eight
“What the—” Liza jerked awake, sitting up in the unfamiliar bed. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and when the plane shook again, she understood what had woken her up.
“Liza,” a gruff voice said in the darkness. “You okay?”
Matt. She was in bed with Matt.
Again.
It spoke to just how screwed up her day was that she’d climbed into bed with the man who had essentially trashed her sleep for the past two months and fell asleep. Granted, she’d slept like extra shit the night before because she’d been too damn excited about the wedding and the trip, her mind whirling as she mentally checked off her “do I have everything?” list, making sure she’d packed what she needed.
When she combined those three hours of restless sleep with the nonstop highs and lows that followed, she could almost understand how she’d closed her eyes and fallen asleep within minutes.
Almost.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up. It was the—” The plane shook again. “Shit.”
Matt sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. “It’s just turbulence.”
“Should we go back to the main cabin and buckle up?”
“Let me call the pilot, see if that’s necessary.” Matt picked up the receiver on an intercom-style phone next to the bed that Liza hadn’t noticed before. “Jack,” he said, pausing to listen. “I see,” he said in response to something Liza couldn’t hear. “Sounds good.”
Matt hung up the phone. “We’ve hit a pocket of weather,” he explained to her. “So we’re probably looking at a half an hour of turbulence. Jack, the pilot, doesn’t think it’ll get rough enough that we need to return to our seats, but he’ll call if that changes.”
“Oh. Okay.” She picked up her smart watch and glanced at the time. She’d managed to grab a two-hour catnap. Just enough to help her find her second wind.
Which meant the fog had lifted from her brain enough that everything Matt had said over dinner was finally sinking in. A few weeks ago, he’d been preaching professionalism, telling her they couldn’t expand on that one-night stand.
Tonight, he made it very clear he’d changed his mind.
“Damn,” she muttered as the plane shook again, flattening her hands against the mattress to steady herself. Liza fought to school her expression because, while she hated turbulence, she hated appearing weak more. She pasted on a fake smile. “Bit like a ride at an amusement park.”
Matt reached out, brushing her hair over one shoulder before gripping the back of her neck, giving her a too-brief kiss on the forehead. It was a simple enough touch, but the way Matt did it, it screamed of possession. Instead of pissing her off, which felt like the normal response, it turned her on.
“Lay down,” he said, releasing her.
She did as he asked, settling on her back until he shook his head.
“Turn away from me,” he commanded.
“Why?”
Matt lifted one brow. “Because I told you to.”
Normal, everyday Liza would cut someone down to size for that comment, but instead she had to squeeze her legs together, trying to ignore the way her panties were suddenly damp.
She turned her back to him, facing the side wall, startling when Matt’s arm snuck around her waist so that he could spoon her.
“Are you doing an impersonation of a seat belt?” she teased, loving the pure strength in his arm. Matt was well-built, muscular, powerful. And that power didn't just end in the physical realm. It was as if it was woven into every fiber of his being.
“Yes. Unless you prefer I tie your hands to the headboard.”
Dammit, Matt had countered every single one of her jokes today with those steamy innuendoes that sent her mind straight to the gutter.
She was just about to take him up on his offer of bondage, but he spoke first.
“Go to sleep, Liza.”
She sighed, grateful he couldn’t see her face. It would give her time to wipe the pout off it without him noticing.
Matt’s grip tightened around her; their bodies connected from shoulders to feet as he molded his position to match hers, right down to her bent knees. It was hard to ignore the fact her ass was perfectly cupped by his crotch and upper thighs. It was equally hard to ignore his very erect cock nestled beneath his boxer briefs.
Sleep was not going to come easily again.
She didn’t want it to.
Matt was interested in expanding on their sexual experiences. Practicality suggested that she take the time he was offering and think about what she wanted from an affair with Matt.
Marriage and love were off the table, and in a lot of ways, that made Liza’s decision much simpler. The two of them shared a physical chemistry, one so strong she thought she’d go mad from it. If they limited this thing between them to just sex…it would make things easier.
No messy emotions. No feuding relatives. No past to hash out.
Liza had pretty much dated every single man between the ages of twenty and forty over the past decade, so she had enough data to know that if she wanted to explore this newly discovered submissive side, Matt was her best option. Maybe her only option because no other lover had made her feel this way before.
She was terrified that if she didn’t take this chance, she wouldn’t get another.
Matt’s arm was slack around her, and she wondered if he’d already fallen back to sleep. She hoped not because…well, she’d already made up her mind.
She wiggled her ass against his crotch, rubbing against the obvious bulge.
“Hold still,” his deep voice murmured in her ear.
She didn’t reply. Just wiggled again.
“Liza,” Matt warned.
She glanced over her shoulder, feigning innocence. “What?”
“You’re playing with fire.”
She didn’t reply. Instead, she grinned as she pushed her ass harder against his erection before doing another little shimmy.
Matt lifted the hand wrapped around her waist to her throat, loosely cupping the front of it, shifting until his lips were right next to her ear. “Bad girls get punished.”
She laughed softly. “What do good girls get?”
“Doesn’t matter. Because you’re not a good girl.”
They’d discussed her name being on the naughty list before the holidays. She gave him a wink, her smile pure wickedness when she said, “Good girls are boring.” She backed that pronouncement up with one more bold shake of her ass.
Matt reacted quickly, pushing her to her stomach, his lips still by her ear. “Your safe word is red.”
With that, his body left hers, his hands gripping her waist, tugging her to her hands and knees.
She sucked in a harsh breath at the sting of the sudden weight on her cut knee.
“Shit,” Matt said, releasing her. “Your knee.”
“It’s fine.” She’d been touched by his concern earlier, more than she cared to admit. While she was an independent woman, perfectly capable of changing a tire and cleaning up a cut, it had been a long time since someone had taken care of her. It felt good, even if it did drive home just how lonely she was.
Regardless of her reassurance, she could tell he intended to pull back, so she took the decision away from him. Taunting him with a seductive smile, she shook her ass one last time. “Punish me. Now,” she whispered.
Matt’s eyes narrowed briefly, and she immediately recognized her mistake. She’d spent her entire adult life having to ask for what she wanted in the bedroom.
Well, not exactly asking.
Liza made demands, like the one she’d just issued to him. Her past lovers had always followed her lead, most of them needing her guidance. Dominance and self-assurance in the bedroom were seriously lacking in her generation of the male species. Gen X parents had a lot to answer for.
Matt possessed an abundance of both, so he made her pay for her demand…by making her wait.
He slowly slid her pants and panties halfway down her thighs, not taking them completely off. The elastic of the panties as well as the drawstring made it difficult for her to part her legs. Not that she was trying. Just the opposite. She needed friction, so she squeezed her legs together, squirming to appease the pulsing need.
Matt placed his hand on her ass firmly. “Hold still.”
She started to shake her head, but some instinct she’d never acknowledged stopped her, telling her this would all go easier if she just obeyed. She hated that word in ninety-nine out of a hundred scenarios. This was the one exception.
“Please,” she begged.
Matt stroked her ass, his touch so light it almost tickled. “I like it when you beg.”
“Matt.” Mercifully, his name came out on a huff of breath that masked the whine inside it. “Please.”
He didn’t reply, just kept caressing her ass, his fingers dipping lower, to the backs of her thighs. The one place he didn’t touch her was where she needed it most. She tried to part her legs on the downswing of his fingers, but all that got her was his palm cupping one ass cheek, squeezing it in warning.
Liza lowered her head, her forehead resting on the fluffy pillow beneath her. She tried to hold steady, but all the party places below her waist were throbbing.
“Ple—”
Her plea was cut off when Matt lifted his hand and brought it down on her ass.
Hard.
She gasped, her hands clenching into fists as she tried to adjust to the pain.
Not that Matt was giving her much time. Or any.
He lifted his hand again. And again. And—God, ten more times. His hand smacked every inch of her ass and upper thighs. The initial stings hurt enough that she almost said the safe word, but just when she thought she couldn’t take another slap, her arousal kicked in.
Electricity shimmered and pulsed through every nerve ending, and her pussy clenched with a painful need.
Matt stroked the skin he’d just spanked, then cupped her ass again, squeezing harder, igniting a different kind of burn. This one sunk deep, struck gold.
Liza’s back arched, silently begging for mercy, for more.
She blew out a long breath when his fingers slid along her slit. She fought against the pants and panties that prevented her from spreading her thighs wide. She wanted to be open to him completely, wanted him to find all those places now screaming for his touch.
Matt slid two fingers through her wet heat, starting at her clit—which needed so much more attention than the brief stroke—before sliding over her opening and back to her ass.
“Are you going to be good?” he asked.
Liza was still pressed down on the pillow, but she didn’t need to lift her head to respond. She shook it. “No.”
He chuckled darkly. “Correct answer.” He drove two fingers inside her pussy.
Liza gasped, especially when she realized she was already on the verge of coming. There was no way. This was too fast.
Her back arched, her entire body caving in on itself as the orgasm struck with the force of a two-ton truck.
“God! Matt!”
He finger fucked her all the way through the orgasm, not letting up until the last vestiges of it faded away.
Then he pulled them out, gripped her waist, and flipped her to her back.
“I’m going to fuck you hard,” he growled. “But I don’t want to hurt your knee.” As he spoke, he dragged her pants and panties off, tossing them to the floor before tugging his T-shirt over his head.
“Take that shirt off,” he demanded, looking at her top like it was an affront to mankind.
She sat up to strip it and her bra off before flopping back down as he stood briefly, adding his boxers to the pile of clothes on the floor by the bed.
Crawling back onto the mattress, he shoved her legs apart, his gaze taking in her naked body. He stroked a single fingertip down the center of her chest, starting at the base of her throat, stopping just below her navel.
Liza shivered at the soft stroke, her eyes locked on his thick, hard cock. She’d been lying to herself a lot since the gala, trying to convince herself his dick hadn’t been that fucking spectacular, that his body didn’t look like it was chiseled from stone.
All those lies were blown out of the water now because the truth was, he was better than she remembered.
Matt bent forward, reaching for the nightstand drawer to pull out a condom. She watched as he slid it on, her body growing tight with anticipation.
Once covered, Matt wasted no time caging her beneath him. The almost savage look in his eyes told her that she hadn’t been the only one slowly going insane without this.
He placed the head of his dick at her opening and then, he did exactly as he’d promised—or maybe threatened. He took her hard, fast, with that thick cock stretching her to the limits of comfort and a little beyond.
Liza’s finger dug into his shoulders as he rocked her body roughly with each pounding thrust.
Within a dozen relentless strokes, he had her there again, right on the precipice of coming. She dragged one hand down her stomach, intent on firing the kill shot. Her fingers never reached her clit as Matt grasped her wrist, pulling it to the pillow beneath her head. Then he grabbed the other, placing it in the same position, one that felt a hell of a lot like surrender.
His movements—dammit—slowed as well.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Her initial thought was “oh shit” because there was no denying he was pissed.
“I was right there,” she explained lamely.
“So?”
“So I always…I need to…usually with other lovers—”
“Don’t ever talk about other men when you’re in bed with me.” His tone was harsh, loud, laced with…jealousy? “I’m in charge of your orgasms. Only me. Do you understand?”
She nodded, then, strangely, felt compelled to say, “I’m sorry.”
Her apology appeased him, his features smoothing out. “I know you’re used to taking care of yourself…in bed.”
Had he paused after “yourself”?
“But I take care of what’s mine, and in this bedroom, you are mine. Understand?”
She nodded again because, quite frankly, speech was beyond her at this point. Christ, the entire conversation had taken place with Matt still buried to the hilt inside her.
Matt held her gaze for a moment longer, and though she didn’t have a clue what the hell he saw on her face, apparently it convinced him that she got it.
