Page 27 of Unforgettable

11

Rose

The second Matthew’slips touch mine; I melt into him. I’ve been kissed hundreds of times, but never like this. Out of all the kisses that were forced upon me during captivity, I never once kissed anyone back. I want to kiss Matthew back with my entire being.

The desire is so completely foreign to me. I don’t quite know what to do with it. I’ve never kissed a person just because I wanted to. Each and every kiss up until this moment has been stolen from me. I thought the act itself was forever sullied for me, but with Matthew’s lips pressed to mine and his tongue lightly licking at my lips asking for entrance, I realize how very wrong I was.

I want to kiss him more than I want my next breath. I feel entirely out of my depth. I hesitantly open for him. Thankfully, he doesn’t hesitate. He confidently takes control. On a low growl, his tongue delves between my lips. I tentatively return his kiss, but I’m worried I’ll mess up. I’ve never done this before. Not like this. Not where I’ve participated. I make a move to pull away because I would rather this moment end on perfection that for it to be ruined by ineptitude.

Matthew must sense my intention because he threads his fingers through my hair and holds me in place. He nips, sucks, and licks at my lips, coaxing. I keep myself pliant. I’m good at that. I know how to do that. Matthew realizes that I’m not actually kissing back and growls into my mouth. The sound reverberates through my chest, sending a shiver of anticipation through me.

I whimper in response, wanting to let go but not knowing how. With one hand on my hip and the other buried in my blonde locks, he lets me know he’s in charge. It frees me from worry. If he’s the one in charge, all I have to do is follow his lead. I don’t have to think. I don’t have to overanalyze or stress about what to do next.

With a low moan, I give myself over to him. Matching the hungry strokes of his tongue with my own. Before long, we’ve found our rhythm. Our tongues slick together in a sensual dance that has my core aching. I swear, I could kiss Matthew forever. I didn’t know it could be this good. Instinct tells me that it’s only this good because it’s Matthew.

Without thinking about what I’m doing, I push him to his back and straddle his hips. I’m not foolish, I know that he’s letting me take charge and I love the temporary power. I can feel the hard bar of his cock against my rear, I do my best to ignore his obvious erection. Instead, I bury my fingers in his hair and return my focus to my new addiction—kissing.

I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of kissing Matthew.

He rips a gasp from my lips when he shifts me slightly, trapping his hard length between our bodies. With both hands on my hips, he rocks me against him. The overwhelming sensation of his cock rubbing along my sensitive folds distracts me until I’m no longer kissing him. My mouth hovers over his, my lips parted on a moan.

Once again, I follow his lead. I let him guide my movements until I’m lost in a sea of molten lava. My insides burn with need as my arousal grows and grows. One of Matthew’s hands leaves my hips, and I shudder when his big palm cups one of my small breasts. He strokes my nipple with his thumb, over and over until I can feel each stroke like a line of fire straight to my clit.

I don’t realize what’s happening until I’m moaning and writhing on top of Matthew as my body is wracked by my first-ever orgasm. Before I have a chance to catch my breath, he rolls us until I’m pinned beneath him. I moan as he hooks a hand behind my knee and pulls my leg up around his hip. With practiced ease, he finds just the right angle to rub his thick erection against my slick folds.

Distantly, I can feel the pain from the lash marks on my back as he presses me to the bed, but the pleasure far outweighs the pain. I gasp into his lips as he moves, his cock rubs along my sensitive clit, causing my whole body to shudder at the intensity. The heat is building again. Every stroke of his cock pushes me closer and closer to another edge.

“Oh, God,” I cry out.

Matthew’s lips crush to mine, swallowing up cries. My body is on fire, burning with a growing need that is scary in its intensity. I feel like I’m going to self-combust. Our teeth clash, and the copper taste of blood floods my senses. He pulls his lips from mine, and the steady grind of his hips slows to a stop. I whimper and try to recreate the friction myself, but he pins my hips down preventing me from moving.

“You wreck my control,” he growls. I whimper when his thumb brushes my lip, he lifts his hand and shows me the blood before he licks it clean. “Are you okay?”

I want to scream that no, I’m not okay. That I want him to keep going. My body doesn’t want to stop; my core aches for the release his body promised. Unfortunately, my brain is back online, and all the worries start pressing down on me again. I’m not sure how to answer when Matthew asks me again if I’m okay.

No… yes… I don’t know. All of them fit the moment. Since I can’t land on one response, I just nod. Nodding is safe.

“Words, love. I want to hear your words,” he coaxes. When I don’t immediately answer, he adds, “Unless I have you tied down and gagged, you need to use your words whenever I ask you a question.”

My heart stutters in my chest at the thought of being tied down. The broken pieces of me start to feel the oh so familiar panic. I can practically taste the dirty leather strap that they used to gag me to keep me from screaming.

No!

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the memories. Matthew wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t hurt me that way. He couldn’t hurt me like that. He’s my hero. He’s nothing like the monsters the Perfects unleashed on me.

Slowly, the anxiety starts to lessen.

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