One Last Shot (Pub Fiction #3) (23 page)

BOOK: One Last Shot (Pub Fiction #3)
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“Holy fucking shit, Matty. Oh, my God. I can’t, you need to stop! Oh, my fuck. Matty, Matt, please I can’t. It’s too much, I’m gonna pee.”

“Fucking hell. You’re so goddamn hot. I wanna see you gush for me, Claire,” I say, before nuzzling my face back into her soaked cunt, keeping up a pace I know is sure to give me—and her—exactly what I want. “Jesus, I want you to cum all over my face. You’re so fucking hot. So close I can feel it. You’re trembling. I’m gonna fucking come in my fucking pants.” Knowing this girl’s body, mind, and soul makes me want this particular orgasm all that much more. The need to chase it from her is overwhelming, my sole mission in life at this moment is to bring this beautiful woman, the one who’s been so completely open with me tonight, pleasure like she’s never experienced before.

Beneath me, Claire shifts, gripping the headrest and back seat for leverage. “I gotta fucking see. If we’re gonna do this, I gotta see it,” she says on a moan.

“That’s my dirty girl. Watch this, baby.” I amp up my assault.

“Oh, fuck. It’s so fucking good, Matty. Holy shit. Don’t you dare stop! Don’t you ever fucking dare stop!” she yells, grinding her pussy up into my waiting face.

Her words and actions drive me even more mental. The need to see her squirt, to feel her coat my face as she comes, makes me all the more driven; I need her to brand me as hers. Moving down again, I rest my knees on the hard concrete of the parking lot. Pulling her all the way down to the edge of the seat, with one languorous lap I lick from her tight asshole upwards, dragging my tongue at a torturously slow pace to her swollen clit. Her breathing is laboured, her body shifting as if trying to escape, as if trying to tease me from getting what I know it’s gonna give me sooner than later. It takes only the tiniest of tugs before her exquisite pussy is contracting, her whole body pulsing, back arching off the seat again as her sweet release meets my mouth like a shot of the best whiskey money can buy.

Claire Knox is the most erotic thing I have ever seen.

And she’s mine.

Body.

Mind.

Heart.

Soul.

Chapter 37

Claire

T
he drive home
is silent. Matt and I aren’t even close to being sated after our hot and heavy romp in the back of his Jeep. If anything, it’s made us more desperate for each other. I don’t think we can get close enough to each other.
Not tonight.

Walking into his front foyer, it only takes seconds before Matt breaks the suffocating silence.

“I’m nowhere near done with you. You need to get naked. I’ll meet you in the middle of my bed in five,” he says, as we both take off our shoes. Gripping my hand, he pulls me close, as if my attempt to make my way up the stairs has me too far away. “Your body’s mine tonight, Claire. We’re gonna play, fuck, and love on repeat.” He brings my back flush into his hard front, wrapping his arms around my waist. His warm breath trickles down my neck, and his words reverberate between my legs. Another orgasm approaches the surface from his mere words.

“Jesus, Matty. Yes,” I purr at his promise, his gravelly tone igniting my body all the more.

“Then tomorrow, once I’ve calmed down, we’ll work out the details on how all this is gonna work going forward. But know this—everything you are is mine: your mind,” he kisses my temple, “and your heart.” He runs his hand over the spot where it’s pounding wildly in my chest, pausing for a moment and taking in the hammering beat, before continuing to make me swoon into a liquefied puddle of girl-gone-emotional-and-completely-wanton with his words. “I love you so fucking much,” he says, resting his hands on my hips, pulling me into his hardness. “Everything, I mean
everything
about you calls to me. You are the one person who will forever complete my soul. You are what makes me happy.”

“Matty,” I moan, his words washing over me intensely like the sweetest of poems. Words I know this man means without hesitation, the honesty behind them shattering. “Matt, you’re the most incredible man I know. I’m sorry it took me this long to realize that. I’ll never let you go again.” I turn to face him, and pull him down to my level. I kiss him softly on the lips, like a whisper, before looking him straight in the eye, willing him to see that this is also my truth.

Because I feel it all, too. Matty and I are forever.

After a few beats of silence, the need to lighten the mood takes over. Like the little shit I am, my mouth starts moving, my brain spilling over before I can filter it: “God, your mangina makes you sappy, eh?” I laugh, knowing that a humourous interlude is warranted. It’s been an emotionally heavy night for both of us. I need to bring some joy and light back into this because, in all honesty, I’m completely taken by his words and I have no idea what else to say. What I do know is that I need his big sexy body over mine, claiming me in the most intimate of ways.
Because let’s face it, it’s been too fucking long.

Immediately, I know my timing for switching gears was impeccable, as Matty expels a deep growly laugh, the one that always sets my panties on fire.

“It only does that for you. And that’s why I fucking love you.” He kisses my nose, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug. He laughs again, palming my ass cheeks. “Thank you for that, baby.” He kisses my lips. “Now go get into bed. I’m about to go primal on your ass again. I need to bury this ever-hard cock in my Sugarshack.”

“Aren’t you the bossy one all of a sudden? Don’t get used—” I’m cut off by a stealthily-moving Matt.

“Fuck it, I’ll do it myself. You’re too slow, Knox. I can’t wait anymore.” He scoops me up without warning; my legs wrapping around him instinctively. “Be ready for me, baby.” He takes my lips again while navigating us up the stairs and down the hallway to his room.

Tonight is the beginning of our forever, and I know deep down in the toes of my soul that Matty is my one last shot.

Chapter 38

Matt

I
n my room,
I deposit her on my bed.

Our bed.

Soon.

This is the stuff I meant when I told her tomorrow we’d be talking. I want Claire here with me, every day and every night. I know already it’s going to be an argument despite the progress we’ve made. She’ll want to maintain some space and that’s okay for now. I know we’ll come to some kind of compromise; we can do the whole sleepover thing until she’s ready. As long as we’re together, I’m willing to give her time to adjust to the fact that I want us to live together sooner rather than later. I won’t press, I’ll patiently wait and make sure that I know she’s one hundred percent into it, that it’s what she wants, too, before I push.

“Get your pants off, Matty,” Claire commands, bringing me back to her, back to where I want to be.

“You greedy for my cock, baby?”

She licks her lips, nodding. “I need it inside me. Please.”

Who am I to deny my girl?
I rush to do as I’m told.

Shedding my clothes in record time, I climb the bed to meet her lithe body, the glow of the bedside light illuminating her soft curves. She’s now dressed only in her pink lace bra, the panties she’d tossed at me earlier are still resting in my pocket. Spreading her legs, I run my tongue along her pussy, growling, “Still smells so fucking sweet, Sugarshack. Mmm, strawberries.” I dart my tongue out, taking a little taste, before moving to her mouth. I press my body on top of hers, taking her tongue with mine, kissing her reverently, stealing both our breaths away.

Moving down to her breasts, I pull down the cups of her bra, giving my tongue the access it wants. I trail my mouth over each deep swell, nuzzling my face between her perky tits. Her nipples pebble under my touch as I pop each budded tip into my mouth. I sit her up, to finally rid her of her bra.

“Your tits are spectacular,” I tell her, enjoying each ample handful, squishing them together before burrowing my face between them.

“Matt, focus. Cock. In pussy. Now,” she says, her face determined, laying back down and taking her sweet titties with her.

“Who’s bossy now?” I tease, grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her head. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.” I kiss her neck before gripping my cock, lining it up at her entrance. We both gasp as I enter heaven, the sound of her wetness infiltrating the air. Our bodies’ sounds and movements take over my senses. All I see and feel is her, and me in her.

Moving in tandem, our bodies fused together, I make love to my girl. My cock slides in and out, again and again, her cunt hugging me tight, the drag and pull of her walls driving me mad, making the need to fuck her harder immediate.

“I can’t keep it slow, Claire. You feel too fucking good on me. I can’t be sweet right now.”

“Do, it. Oh, my God, fucking do it. Go, Matty. Hard. I need it.”

Picking up the pace, I give her what we both need. Moving faster and faster, I pound into her, whispering over and over in her ear how hot, beautiful, and mine she is. Our jagged breaths come more readily as we both near falling over the cliff. Nipping at her tits as they bounce with each accelerating thrust, I can feel her body start to tremble beneath me.

“Yes, right there, I’m gonna come, yes, Matty, don’t slow down…” she calls, her hands grabbing my ass, holding me in position deep inside. Her body starts shaking with her impending orgasm, her hips moving to meet mine in rapid succession, giving me back as good as I give her in return.

It’s a crescendo that brings us both to the brink. The fact that I’m responsible for each quiver, each tremble of her body, pushes me over the edge right along with her, falling into my own oblivion.

“You’re my everything.” I rest my head on her chest, spent and sated.

“God, I love Satan’s little flute.”

I look up from my spot on her chest. “By ‘Satan’s little flute’ are you talking about my cock?”

“Fuck, yes. It’s evil. I love it too much; I just can’t get enough. I need it so much. I think about it a lot,” she admits, lowering her voice like she should be embarrassed for admitting that. Her honesty has me wanting to puff out my chest and strut like a damn peacock but I don’t. Instead I want to make sure she knows that I fucking love that she’s a horny fucker like me, that I like knowing she wants me as much as I want her.

“Hey,” I move up her body to meet her eyes, “that shit’s so fucking okay with me, I want you to want me. Fuck knows I want you, all the damn time. Never be ashamed for wanting me, baby. But we do need to talk about this ‘little’ statement,” I say, moving my hand to pinch her nipple between my fingers. “Now, ‘Satan’s flute’…I’m okay with that, but by no means is he small. He can be your devil.”

I start to move inside her again, eliciting a moan from her lips.

“I like that actually…my cock can be the devil that drives you to be the dirty girl I love. But it’s nowhere near ‘little’, Sugarshack.”

I bend my neck to pull her other nipple between my teeth, causing her move her hips at the pain/pleasure feeling her tits are experiencing on account of my hands and mouth.

“No, Matt. It’s not little at all. I just meant it’s evil; it makes me want you between my legs. All the time,” she says, thrusting her hips, hinting at what she wants from me.

“Guess, it’s that time again,” I say, positioning her leg over my shoulder, spreading her legs before me, her wetness making the transition in position easy. “Time to show you just how big and satisfying my flute really is, one more time.”

“Please, yes. Fuck me again, Satan,” she giggles, and I comply because seeing Claire like this makes me the horniest bastard alive.

Later that night, after a few more rounds of hide the flute—and a late night snack of pancakes we managed to cook, in-between making out like high school kids in my kitchen—Claire is now fast asleep on my chest, where she should be. Holding her tightly, my arm resting around her shoulders, I reach with my free hand for the stack of emails, the ones I still can’t believe she wrote me almost daily. After we ate, as we were walking back to my room, I’d made a quick run back down to the front door to grab them from where I had left them on the entrance table. She smiled shyly when I told her that I’d meet her in bed, that I needed to grab my letters.

Looking down at her now, all snuggled in close, I can’t deny that I’m excited to find out all the things Claire wanted to share with me, but couldn’t find the nerve to. Tonight I intend to read every single thing I missed while she was gone. Kissing her softly on the head, I settle in to read.

“I love you, beautiful,” I whisper into her hair, as I dive into the first email.

Chapter 39

Claire

Spring

“Y
ou ready to
go, Sugarshack? Got everything you need?”

“I think so,” I say, grabbing my purse and overnight bag.

“Perfect. You look beautiful, by the way,” Matt says, pulling me in for a kiss and ushering us out my front door.

“You sure a dress is okay?” I stop on the porch, seeing as I have no idea what we’re doing today. I hope so, because the weather is perfect for my new pink summer dress, black cardigan, and Mary Janes.

“More than okay. You’ll be lucky if we make it where we’re going before I’m driving the big flute into you,” he laughs.

“Urgh.” I facepalm my forehead. “I’m never gonna live that down, am I?” I ask, at the use of the stupid term I’d used once for his cock. Now the lug takes every opportunity to tease me about it.

“Nope,” he smirks, giving me that sexy look of his.

“You’re a pest, you know that?” I cock my head to the side.

“I prefer ‘Satan’.” He raises his brows up and down. “Let’s go, baby.”

“You’re a nerd. Now tell me, devil man, where exactly are you taking me? To Hell and back?” I ask, locking my front door before placing my hand in his to follow him along the path to my driveway.

“Can’t tell you. It’s a secret,” he says, opening the door of his new grey Chevy truck for me.

“I’m still loving the truck. It’s very rugged and manly,” I tease, raising my own eyebrows up and down.

BOOK: One Last Shot (Pub Fiction #3)
2.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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