by Sophia Gray
Just the sight of those long, shapely legs makes Matt's pants feel too tight.
“Tori,” he says. “Or should I be calling you Victoria?”
She frowns. Her fingers clasp around one of her wrists, nervously rubbing at the smooth skin. It's so strange to see him here, sopping wet and dripping rainwater from hem of his leather jacket. The patch from the Horsemen – his motorcycle club – is starting to peel away.
“What are you doing here?” demands Victoria. “You cannot be here!”
“I am, so buck up and deal with it.”
“You cannot be here,” repeats Victoria, shaking her head. One hand threads through her soft, golden hair. The nails have been painted pale green, covered up in a coat of clear glitter. “Matt, you cannot be here! Why are you here?”
“I'm here to talk to you,” snaps Matt. “What do you think?”
“I think you shouldn't be here! If my mother finds out—”
“She'll what? Put you up with another man?”
Victoria's eyes narrow. “Are you jealous? It was one night! It was…a hook-up, that's what people call it, right? A hook-up?”
“It was a hook-up before I realized you were knocked up!”
Furious at the crass language and upset over the interruption of her one morning alone for the week, Victoria slaps him. The sound of skin on skin is almost deafening. It resonates through the otherwise quiet room until Victoria's heart seems to be pounding in time with the leftover sound.
“How dare you?” she hisses. “How dare you come here and say such things? You don't have any idea what's going on!”
Matt's fingers press against his reddening cheek. His lips twist into a scowl. “Then tell me!”
“Go away,” says Victoria, voice raising just slightly. Her eyes dart towards the door, as if she's expecting someone to come barging in at any moment. “Go away, Matt. I cannot do this. I cannot talk to you!”
“Why not?”
“I'm not allowed!” Victoria's eyes are starting to burn. This is bringing up too much at once. She's never had to do anything like this before, never had to confront her demons. When she makes mistakes, there's someone to help clean them up. When she finds herself lost and wandering, she ends up turning to her nanny or one of the others that linger in her castle, in her home. “My mother will kill me if word gets out! I'm a princess, Matt! I cannot go around sleeping with strangers.”
“Is that why you're marrying this duke?” Matt waves one hand like he might be able to gesture towards the Duke himself.
The thought is silly. A pointless laugh bubbles out of her throat. Victoria feels like she's about to cry; her eyes are itching, and her throat is burning. It's ridiculous and she cannot even pinpoint why. Her palms press against her eyes, like that might somehow hide the tears.
It doesn't. It just makes her cry that much harder.
“It's not like I want to marry him,” she says viciously. Just like when she's arguing with her mother, the words end up sliding out of her mouth, falling into existence against her own regards. “I don't! I've never even met him! But this…I left that night because my mother wanted me to wed a stranger, and I ended up just pushing myself farther into that own fate. I'm never going to be able to be myself. I'm never going to be able to be with someone like you!”
The silence that follows is strangely heavy. Victoria's chest is tight. Her skin is crawling. Ghost fingers stroke against her jaw, run down her bare arms.
Matt's eyes are wide. His mouth opens and closes, but the words don't come out right away. Finally, he asks, “You would want to be in a relationship with me?”
Victoria pauses. She rolls the words around in her mind. Then, finally, she gives a small nod.
Chapter 13
Matt takes a step forward, then another. He reaches out a hand, resting it against the side of Victoria's neck, his thumb pressing lightly against her windpipe. “Say that again. Look me right in the eyes, and say that again.”
Victoria gulps. She's not sure whether to lean into the touch or away from it. “I would be with someone like you, if I could.”
“That's the freedom you were looking for.”
“Yes. I want to be myself. I can see myself with someone like you, Matt. You're rough, but you're nice, too. And I think I really like you.” Victoria gives him a wane smile. She rests a hand on his wrist, fingers curling around it. “But my mother would never allow it.”
“You're a princess. Just do what you want!”
“I cannot. That's not how this works.”
Matt demands, “Then how does it work?”
“I'm a princess. In time, I will be the Queen of Vertsea. When that time comes, I need to be an example to my people, the perfect child that's grown up into the perfect ruler.” Victoria finds that she cannot meet Matt's eyes. They're too dark, too intense. She stares at the, slightly peeling, patch on the front of his jacket, instead.
This is the conversation that she's always wanted to avoid. Her mother is one thing, but to try to say it to someone else? To try to say it to Matt?
That's far harder than anything else.
The words get stuck in her throat. She tries to spit them out but ends up sniffing instead. “I will be the daughter my mother wants because that's the only choice I have. Just because I'm a princess doesn't mean I can do anything I want, like date you. In fact, it means I cannot do anything at all.”
“That doesn't seem right,” says Matt with a shake of his head. “You wouldn't want to date me.”
“That's what you took from what I said?” Victoria chokes again, but this time it's on her laughter. “All of that and you're hung up on whether I would willingly date you or not?”
“You wouldn't,” says Matt. “You might not want to marry this duke, but that doesn't mean you wouldn't date him, if you had the chance.”
“It does,” insists Victoria. “I would never want to be with someone like the Duke. My father is a good man and a kind man, but he's still the sort of man who was willing to commit himself to a loveless marriage. That's the sort of man the Duke is. The thought of marrying him—of marrying anyone like him—makes me sick.”
Matt's hand shifts around to the back of Victoria's neck. He presses on it until she steps forward, until he can crash their lips together in something resembling an actual, tender kiss. It's soft and sweet, tastes like nicotine and peppermint gum.
Victoria's heart stops for a moment. When it starts back up, it feels like the thing has gone into overdrive. She rests a hand on Matt's hips. Her painted fingers curl lightly against the wet denim of his jeans.
When they part, their eyes meet, and Victoria knows.
“If I could,” she says softly. “I would be with you for real. The child—”
“I know. I fucking know,” says Matt, and then he catches her mouth again, but this time it's more tooth and tongue than anything else. He steps forward, and she steps back in this horrible pattern that's repeated until Victoria's legs bump against the black leather couch and she goes tumbling down.
Matt goes down next to her. His hands on her hips, and then she's up, straddling his hips, hands tangled in his hair. It's wild as she's ever felt, as free as she's ever been. This is the sort of moment she will never forget, even though she knows, in her heart, it will be the last one.
“And I know how much of a little slut you are, too. Come here, doll.” Matt's hands slide over her hips, one going to rest on her ass and the other sliding up between the blades of her shoulders. Teeth sink into the side of Victoria's shoulder, over onto the front of her chest. They cling and nip at her collarbone, only just hidden beneath that slip of pale skin.
She shows off bruises beautifully. It's like a drug for him, watching them bloom over her skin. Before, the last time they were together, it was a rushed and frenzied affair. But now? Matt fully plans on taking his time and ravishing the wonderful woman before him.
Victoria shudders beneath his touch. Her small hands explore his chest, running over
the wet fabric. They slip under the edges of his jacket, pushing it back and over his shoulders.
Matt chuckles, and the sound is absolutely sinful. “You're in a rush, aren't you?”
“My mother and father will be home soon,” says Victoria softly. “They cannot catch us. You don't understand what would happen if they do.”
“That's not my problem,” chuckles Matt, but the words are light, and it's clear he doesn't mean them. His hands slip down, grabbing the bottom of her nightgown and pulling it up. He rolls it up, showing off inch after inch of pale skin.
There's no bra. Of course there isn't. Her breasts are large but not unduly so. Her tits are already hard from rubbing against the satin fabric, from the cold air in the hotel room.
He tosses the nightgown onto the floor and then gives one breast an almost vicious squeeze. “We were in a hurry last time. But now? I'm going to make you really beg for it. You're going to regret lying to me.”
“I didn't lie—”
“Shut up. You think pretending to be someone completely different was telling the truth? Taking off like that, before we could even talk in the morning? You're acting like I didn't already get under your skin,” interrupts Matt, voice vicious and sharp. “You lied to me, and now you're going to fix that.”
Victoria's stomach rolls at the words. “Fix that? Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “Okay, I can do that. I can do that.”
She slides down his body like she's suddenly turned spineless. Her hands explore his still-clothed form, and she glances up at Matt from under heavy lashes. Matt takes a handful of her golden hair, fingers running through it once—twice—three times and then twisting the strands around his fingers so tightly it actually hurts.
“No, I don't think so. That's not what I'm looking for,” says Matt. “Try a little harder.”
“How? If you tell me what you want, I'll do it. I just...”
Matt tugs her hair again. “Figure it out. You know how to put on a show, right?”
“A show?”
“That's what I said. Repeating it's only going to make the chances of being walked in on higher.”
“That's…can you not just tell me?”
“I just did,” says Matt. “Put on a show.”
A show. Victoria rolls the word around in her mind. A show.
And then it clicks, like a light being turned on. Victoria stands up, and Matt lets her. The grip on her hair vanishes, and Victoria replaces it with her own fingers. She runs her hands through her hair, messing it up just like it had been when she got off the motorcycle all those nights ago.
Small palms run down her body, stroking at her own stomach, moving to toy with her own tits. Fingers pinch and pull at the tender flesh, and Victoria bites her bottom lip hard enough that she can taste copper.
Aside from breakfast, the table is empty. Victoria sits down on the edge of it. The wood is cold against the back of her thighs. She spreads her legs, showing off her silver panties. There's a damp patch at the center. She puts on her most coy voice and asks, “Is this what you mean?”
Matt spreads his own legs, displaying the large tent in his jeans. He pops open the button and pulls down the zipper with one hand. A shift of his hips and the denim is pushed down around his knees.
He's not wearing any boxers; he prefers not to.
“Yeah,” says Matt. “That's sort of what I'm talking about.”
Victoria tries to smile. She feels like her whole face has been lit on fire. Her blush spreads across the bridge of her nose and over her cheeks, stretching down her neck and across her shoulders. “I'm not even half as good at this as you make it seem.”
“Trust me,” assures Matt. “Just looking at you is enough to make me hard. I don't think I've ever met someone as beautiful as you.”
The words just make her blush deeper. Slowly, Victoria hooks the waistband of her panties and slides them down. She pushes them off one leg first, then uses her other leg to flick them at Matt. They miss by a good five inches, but she feels like it's the thought that counts.
Victoria's palms slide across her thighs. It's strange, doing this in public. Up until now, she’s only ever touched herself in the privacy of her own room with the lights off and the sheets pulled up over her hips and her breasts, halfway up to her shoulders.
She presses a palm against her crotch, covered with fine trimmed hair. She rubs at her own clit, seeking out the sensitive nub she knows is hidden under the hood. She moves farther down, seeking out that hot, wet hole she loves so much.
One finger gets pushed in and then another. Victoria is lost, not in the sensation, but in the way Matt is watching her. It's a startling, heavy thing, having those eyes on her. It looks, in that moment, like she is Matt's entire world. It feels, in that moment, like there's nothing else she would rather be doing.
“Fuck,” groans Matt, shifting about again. He shoves his boxers down, too, and takes a loose hold of himself with one hand. It's not the first time Victoria's seen him, not by far, but it's still a startling sort of thing.
Bravely, Victoria asks, “Do you want to?”
Matt's only answer is a large, toothy grin.
Chapter 14
They end up in the bedroom, a miracle against miracles. Matt's jacket, vest, and shirt hit the floor along the way. His skin is just slightly damp, but it's enough to make Victoria feel chilled.
They stumble through the doorway. Victoria's back hits the bed. It's large—a king sized captain's bed with a black headboard and a robe thrown over the edge.
She laughs because this seems ridiculously familiar yet feels impossibly new. “I cannot believe you came here.”
“Of course I did,” grumbles Matt, right before he sinks his teeth into the juncture in Victoria's neck. She squeals in response. “Why wouldn't I come back for this lovely ass? I don't think I've ever been with someone as tight as you.”
“Such a charmer,” says Victoria with a laugh. “That mouth of yours ever get you in trouble?”
Matt settles down between her legs, resting on his knees. “More than you could know, baby. But it's good for a few things.”
“Oh?”
“Sure,” laughs Matt. “But I don't think it's really time for that. We're in a hurry, right?”
A thought hits her, like she's been slapped. Victoria pushes herself up onto her elbows. “Did you close the door?”
“No,” says Matt, with a shrug. “Like I said, we should probably make this sort of quick. But if things go right, I assure you, this isn't going to be the last time we meet up.”
Victoria's heart flutters. She lays back down, slowly, and smiles up at him. “Do you mean that?”
“Hell yes,” says Matt. “You think I drove all the way up here just to turn tail and leave? No, baby, you're mine now.”
The words send a shudder down Victoria's spine. Her skin feels like it's on fire. She hooks an arm around Matt's neck, runs her fingers through his messy hair. “My mother will hate it.”
“Does she need to know?”
“She plans on having me married to the Duke.”
“Tell her no.” Matt hooks a hand under Victoria's left thigh, pushing her leg up towards her chest. “She cannot control what comes out of your mouth.”
“No, but...” Victoria trails off, words bleeding into a soft sigh when Matt bends down and runs the flat of his tongue up the center of her chest, between her breasts. “You haven't met her before. You don't understand the power she holds.”
“I don't think you get exactly what I can do, either.”
“Against a queen?”
“Against anyone,” says Matt seriously. “Now, you'd best take a deep breath and hold on tight.”
That's all the warning she gets before he’s making the plunge. His cock is large and thick, especially compared to her slender fingers. They did nothing to erase the tightness in her loins, but the pain is almost reminiscent of their first rendezvous.
It's a delicious thing, feeling the man slip inside
of her. There's nothing rushed about it, but it's not slow, either. It's something completely different—powerful, the way he moves at his own pace as if this is only about him, about how great it feels on his end.
Strange as it seems, Victoria loves that. She loves the way he curls over her, the way he's hitting completely different spots from before. Victoria's breath vanishes in a drawn-out moan when Matt fully hilts himself inside her wet cunt; they should have used lube, but the sparks of pain are hot and intoxicating.