Luster (7 page)

D
inah peels
herself off of me thankfully, before droning on. We both know this isn’t real. Nothing she ever says or does is real. “I heard you were striking it big with your sculptures. I had no idea how well you were doing!”

Like I give a shit. It’s so fucking hard not to shove the bitch away from me, but I can’t imagine how fucked up that would look. I don’t want to cause any trouble for Eliza. And Falyn…I can’t keep pretending. She’s gotten under my skin and now I’d hate for her to think anything worse of me. Especially after the way I practically booted her out of my studio a few days ago.

“What do you want? I’m clearly busy here,” I say, my voice low. I knew I was done with this conversation before it even happened.

She looks at Falyn as if she’s just seen her. “Oh my god! Please forgive me. I’m Dinah. And who might you be?” she asks, clutching her hand against her chest.

Falyn looks between the two of us at a loss of words. “I’m Falyn. Falyn Morrissey. I actually wanted to go talk to a friend of mine across the room,” she says, trying to get out of our awkward conversation.

Oh no you don’t, princess. I smoothly tuck her arm in mine. “That’s okay. This will only be a moment.”

“Okay then.” Falyn pastes on a fake smile, her eyes saying something else entirely. Possibly that she wants to kill me, but who knows?

“Morrissey, is it? Isn’t your father the owner of all those lovely Morrissey hotels? I’ve stayed at a couple of them. Very clean and well-stocked. I’m impressed.”

But nothing truly fazes Dinah, and she dismisses Falyn and lets my harsh tone with her roll right off her tan skin. “I just wanted to say hello to an old friend, is all. It’s nice to have met you, Farah.”

“It’s Falyn,” Falyn tries to correct her. Dinah just pretends not to hear her, in true-form. It’s pointless. The only person Dinah cares about is Dinah.

She made that supremely clear the moment she used me as a publicity stunt. There I was, waiting for my lovely bride to come down the aisle. Dinah asked for us to have a very small ceremony, just our family and a few friends. She claimed that she didn’t want the paparazzi all over it, so of course I obliged. I would’ve given her whatever she asked for, truthfully.

But when the minutes turned into an hour I knew something was wrong. I didn’t actually find out that Dinah had left me until her publicist called me from
our
honeymoon suite in Hawaii, telling me that he and Dinah were in love and Dinah just couldn’t bear to break my heart herself.

How fucking noble of her. Of course they then decided that would look bad on her, so they turned it around on me, making me look like the bad guy. They told every news source they could about me standing her up at the altar. Never mind that they didn’t have any photos or proof of that—they’ll take a huge celebrity’s word on anything.

Something glints behind her brown eyes as she takes another good look at me. My muscles tense as I brace for whatever shitstorm she’s looking to stir up.

“You know Matt,” she begins innocently, smoothing her hair back behind her ear. “Running into you like this. It sort of reminds me when we first met.”

The hair on the back of my neck rises as I realize where she’s going with this. She’s so damn lucky that I’d never hit a woman. So damn lucky.

“Back when you were at your…former profession. I don’t suppose you’ve taken to it again?”

I can almost see my mom in my head, ready to smack me upside the head. I firmly stand in place, but I don’t hold my tongue and my voice rings clear as day. “Fuck off.”

Dinah sneers at me before turning away without so much as a good-bye. Thank god. But when I look over at Falyn, it’s easy to see that the whole thing has left her confused and uneasy. I don’t really blame her. Only a few people know what truly went down between me and Dinah, so I’ve probably just come off like a stupid bastard yet again.

I hate for her to think that I’m just this jerk who gets women to blow him and tells them to fuck off. I know I shouldn’t care, but I do.

“Look, I know this is sort of out of nowhere, but do you want to get out of here? I’ve kind of lost my interest in art for the night.”

Falyn’s face is indecipherable. A small pinprick of rejection registers in my chest, making me feel something that I told myself I would never deal with again. I start putting together ways to backtrack in my head, when after what feels like forever, she tugs the corner of her lip into her mouth and looks up at me. “No art? So no sketching then?”

The edges of her question reveal a little piece of her to me, something I wasn’t expecting to find. She thinks I just want to draw her and that be it. To her I’m just some guy who gets off by giving her grief all the time. I thought maybe I was that guy, too.

But as I look down at the angles of Falyn’s shoulders, and at the soft and round curves of her magnificent tits she has on display…there’s something gnawing away at my insides. A feeling I haven’t properly had over a woman in a while, even after plenty of good lays.

Want
. I want Falyn.

I want to rip that elegant dress right off of her body. I want to pull all the pins out of her hair and yank my fingers through it. I want to push her up against the wall and fuck her until she screams. I want to make her scream.

I want her.

“No drawing. Not tonight.” My words are clear, concise. I’m done playing games with her. The woman has gotten under my skin, clogged up my perfectly fine thoughts with images—no, memories of her on my couch, posed naked and beautiful.

A thousand raw and untrained thoughts rake through my skull, telling me I need to make her mine. I won’t share any part of her. She won’t have anyone else after me.

Of course I push that last thought away. I’m not trying to settle down with her, I just want to fuck her silly. Nothing wrong with that.

Falyn, who can sometimes be slow on my uptake, catches right on this time. I can even see the moment what I’m saying hits her. Her pupils dilate until there’s barely any brown iris left around them. Her chest heaves involuntarily. Her nipples harden under the soft fabric of a dress she might possibly (hopefully) be going commando in.

She gets it, all right. “Follow me. We can catch a cab to my place.”

I stalk after her, reaching out for her hand and closing my eyes for a split second when our skin makes contact. It’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough. We work through the maze of people, right past Eliza and a group of others. Falyn gives her a quick wave and presses on until we make our way out the front entrance of the gallery.

I mumble my apologies after I run into someone, trying to keep up with Falyn. I fight the smug smile that’s threatening to take over my mouth. At least I’m not the only one desperate for some privacy here.

She stumbles in her heels, her arm shooting out as she tries to hail the taxi coming down the street. I stand closer to the curb and stick my hand out too, wishing I had my own private driver to take us where we’d like to go. Then I could just get to it right there in the car, with a screen between us and prying eyes. My dick is starting to take notice of what’s going on here too, it seems.

A guy pulls up and I latch onto the door before anyone else can get the chance, ready to defend our taxi with my life. “Hop in!” I yell to Falyn over the noise of people milling around outside the art gallery. She quickly slides across the seat and I follow, clapping the driver on his shoulder. “My man! Thank you.”

He glances at us through his rearview and clearly gets the idea. “Where to?”

“
T
he Morrissey Regent on Westshire Drive
,” I reply breathlessly. I suck in some more air before I tell the driver to put it on Blake Morrissey’s tab, and collapse against the torn leather seat.

My chest feels like it’s bubbling under the surface of my skin every time I sneak a look over at Matt. The look on his face says it all. He’s not afraid of hiding how he’s feeling—not like I usually am. This time though, I’m not either. I scoot closer to Matt, willing him to look at me. The driver keeps his eyes on the road thankfully, though I’m done with being worried over what anyone else thinks of me. At least for now.

Matt’s calloused hand squeezes mine as he tilts his head and leans in closer. I’m no fan of PDA or anything, but I hardly could give a shit right now. I squeeze his knee and meet him halfway, my lips carefully ghosting over his once, twice. Then I go in for the kill.

When we emerge from the cab only ten minutes later, my lipstick is gone, though Matt is wearing a lovely shade of dark red all along his mouth and jaw. I look over my shoulder and grin at him as we make our way past the lobby and into the elevator.

“That was unexpected,” he says, chuckling at how fast I jam my finger into the 37
^th
floor button. “Going to the lavish penthouse, are we? I should have—”

I shut him up with my mouth, desperate to feel his lips and tongue against mine again. All this need I have, all of the desire that’s running through me is dizzying.

He groans as I begin to unbutton his tailored slacks. “Isn’t there a camera…?”

I shake my head, leaning back to point up at the top corner of the elevator. “This one has been out for ages. Don’t worry.”

He laughs as I yank his pants down. “Good to know.”

I give him one last little smirk before kneeling down in front of him, impatient to taste him all over again. I know I should be angry, and I know I probably shouldn’t be so pressed to do this so quickly, knowing how he ditched me last time. But feverish ache between my legs is growing, and I honestly don’t give a shit what happened before. All that matters is now.

I need him…I need his dick so badly that I can hardly stand it. And I know I have to get to my room first before we get to the good part. So why not enjoy a little fun time for the next three minutes it takes to get upstairs?

He’s already swollen rock-hard for me when I pull his boxer-briefs down. His cock springs forth, glistening with drops of pre-cum. I lick him from base to tip, sucking his head into my mouth and enjoying the way his hips buck. His eyes narrow down at me, the lust in them driving me forward.

Taking him into my hands, I stroke him slowly, matching a long and languid lick up one side for every stroke. He makes quick work of my hair, letting it fall down my back before he’s tangling his hands within it. I love how he tries to keep control over me when I suck him off, because he knows I’m the one with the power right now. I could easily keep sucking him until right before he comes and then stop, giving him the worst case of blue-balls he’s ever experienced.

But I don’t. I keep working his cock in my mouth, using the skills I’ve acquired over the years to show him how I know my way around a dick. And he’s only seeing just this side. I’m on a mission to prove myself right, no matter what. No matter how many times I have to make him come for him to see. For him to tell me I was right.

I didn’t say I wouldn’t enjoy every second of it.

Matt crushes my face against him and I reach up and start kneading his balls in my hand, the image of his eyes rolling back in his head making me impatient to see his body beneath mine on the bed. Or floor. Or hell, wherever the closest surface is really.

The bell dings and I hop to my feet, still holding onto Matt’s length with my fist. I playfully pull him along with me to my door—the only door on this level. I grab my keys from my purse and quickly open it, Matt’s waddling in with his pants around his ankles after me.

I want to laugh but he gives me no time. I’m pushed up against the wall before I have a chance to utter a single word, Matt’s pants now completely gone. His hands are already grabbing at the hem of my dress, dragging it up and over my head.

“I’ve been waiting to see you again all night,” he whispers against my collarbone, his hands on my hips as he rocks himself against me.

I catch my lip between my teeth, little breaths of air escaping in pants as I close my eyes and smile. “You’ve been with me for a good while.”

“No,” he replies, snaking his hands up my sides. “I mean I’ve been waiting to see the real you. The one that you hide under everything.”

His voice is low and full of lust, yet I hear something else in it. A longing that makes my knees quake. I bring his mouth up to mine, tracing his lips with my tongue as I try to commit their shape, their firmness to memory. This will be the only time we’re together. I’m sure of it.

I nearly rip his shirt off after fiddling with the damn buttons, both of us laughing when he pulls it off his shoulders. The smiles fade as Matt’s mouth drops to one of my nipples, catching it between his teeth before gently flicking the pointed end of his tongue against it. I melt instantly into a puddle of soft moans.

I’m aching to touch him again and I drag my fingers up and down his back, raking my nails under his shoulder blades. I want to claim him somehow and show everyone that for one night I had Matthew Walsh, artist extraordinaire, all to myself.

He’s squeezing my breasts firmly, kissing his way between them. Up one side and down the other, not leaving any inch of them untouched. “You have the most. Amazing. Tits. I’ve. Ever. Seen.” He punctuates each word with a kiss, and I smile lazily, flattered and dazed.

When Matt’s tongue begins trailing itself down my ribcage and circles around my belly-button, that’s when my legs really start to shake. I wanted him to touch me, to lick me so badly last time…

“I swear to god Matt, if you don’t do what I think you’re going to do, I’m going to kick you right in your stupid handsome face.”

His stubble tickles against the soft skin of my belly as he laughs, his hands gripping my hips. “You think I have a handsome face?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, holding back the giggle that’s bubbling up my throat. “Seriously?”

“Don’t worry,” he begins, his words ghosting over the silky fabric of my thong. “I have every intention of finishing what I start tonight.” His breath is so warm against me. He takes his thumb and gently edges it under the elastic on my hip. “But first… I think we have what I presume to be an elaborate and large bed to get comfortable in.”

I knock my head against the wall as he pulls away from me. He’s right. “Okay,” I manage to squeak out. I lead him past my kitchen and dining room area, to the French doors that open up to my room.

I open them but Matt sweeps me up over his shoulder, complaining that I’m taking too long. I squeal and back up quickly after he throws me down on my bed.

He doesn’t believe in wasting any time and the next thing I know, Matt has peeled off my thong and chucked it somewhere behind my head. I want to kiss him again, but when he pushes my knees wide apart and settles between them I just hold my breath, waiting.

His mouth trails up one thigh until he reaches my center, pulling away to tease me. He can tell that I’m done waiting though, and pushes past my folds already wet with need, slipping two fingers inside me. He works them in and out and leans down, his warm breath sending chills across my aching and sensitive skin. When he pulls his fingers out again he licks them both for good measure, watching me the whole time. “Delicious,” he mutters against my thigh.

I squirm as his fingers slide against the right spot inside of me. Matt’s not done though, and when he pushes my lips apart and circles his tongue around my clit I nearly jump out of my skin.

He’s sucking me into his mouth with such fervor now as he pumps his fingers quickly in and out of me, that I nearly forget to breathe. “Fuck,” I whimper. “Yes! Oh god… just like that.”

Words trickle out of my mouth in a pitiful string of nonsense as he picks up the pace, his tongue working over my clit like a fucking pro. He takes one long lick against me and I fall apart, my legs squeezing his head to stay put as he licks me into sweet oblivion.

I see stars bursting like fireworks behind my eyes, but Matt is just as impatient as I am. “I’m not anywhere near done with you yet, princess,” he hisses at me, flipping me over onto my belly. “Get on your knees.”

Huge rushes of pleasure are still jolting through me as Matt parts my ass cheeks and guides himself to the entrance of my pussy, his throbbing head pulsing against me. Tears leak out of the corner of my eyes when he pushes himself inside of me with a quick thrust, grabbing firm hold of my hips.

He gives me a hard smack right on my ass and rocks into me at full speed, shoving me deeper and deeper into the abyss of blankets and sheets. I grab fistfuls of fabric and try to muffle the rising scream in my throat, but it’s impossible. I have to hold on for dear life as Matt fucks me clear across the bed, nonstop.

“Oh god! Oh god!” I yell out, that same tight, coiling feeling starting to unravel in my belly. He’s so big, filling me up in ways I never knew I could be filled.

And when he roars my name at the top of his lungs before that final slam against me, his balls smacking against my swollen pussy with a wet thwack, I lose all control too. I’m crying as he leaks out of me, his hand yanking at the end of my hair for me to look back at him.

His face is red and his eyes are wide and dilated, and he’s still carefully thrusting deep inside of me, but I can feel the edge wearing off. Matt pulls out of me slowly and takes a seat at the end of the bed to catch his breath.

I let a minute of silence pass between us before I decide to speak up with my intelligent choice of words. “Wow. That was… wow.”

Even as we sit here, smiling like idiots at each other, I already know.

No one will ever be able to compare to him. He’s ruined me for good.