Sarah
I can't move.
I'm awake, but my eyes are still closed. I try to turn to my side and roll off the bed like I usefully do, but I can't do it this time.
Why can't I?
A weight presses down on me. It's not just my body that feels trapped. Something is physically keeping me still. Panic sparks in my chest, and I force my eyes open, blinking into the faint glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains.
That's when I see him.
Matthew.
His arm is draped over me, his grip firm, locking me in place. His body is close, and his warmth seeps into my skin. I can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against me, his breath tickling my cheek.
Why is he holding me like this? The last time I checked, he was at the edge of the bed to avoid touching me.
"Matthew," I whisper, my voice shaky, barely audible.
He doesn't respond. His breathing remains deep and even, his face peaceful in the dim light.
I close my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, but my heart pounds relentlessly.
No, I shouldn't wake him up. I want to enjoy being held like this for a little longer.
I inch even closer to him, if it's even possible and smile secretly when I feel his hardness between my legs.
Oh, Matthew…
You can hate me all you want, but your body can't help but react to mine. The thought satisfies me immensely.
I lie still, my body molded to his as the minutes stretch on.
I know it won't last. It never does with Matthew. He'll wake up soon, pull away, and go back to keeping his distance. But for now, I let myself pretend—pretend that things between us are different, that there's no anger, no betrayal, no history to weigh us down.
As if sensing my thoughts, Matthew stirs slightly, his arm tightening around me. My breath hitches, and for a second, I wonder if he's awake. But then he mumbles something incoherent under his breath, his head nuzzling closer to the crook of my neck.
I tilt my head just slightly, daring to glance at his face. His features are relaxed, softened by sleep. It's such a stark contrast to the guarded, sometimes cold expression he wears when he's awake.
Before I can stop myself, I reach down and touch him…there. I can't help it.
He takes me when he wants now, it seems, and treats my body like a toy, so why can't I touch him when I want, too?
I let my hand linger, tracing him through the sheet. He grows harder beneath my touch, his body responding instinctively, even if his mind is still lost in sleep. The power of it, the power to affect him like this, makes my breath quicken.
A low sound escapes him, almost a groan, and I freeze, my heart hammering in my chest.
His eyes flutter open, hazy with sleep but sharp enough to pin me in place. "What are you doing?" He releases me from his embrace, but I stay close.
"Nothing," I say coyly, but I don't remove my hand.
Instead, I slowly stroke the length of his penis over the fabric of his boxers.
A low growl escapes his lips, his eyes more alert now. "Sarah…" he says, his voice is tight with warning.
I don't want to stop, I realize. I want to be in control. I reach out and grab the waistband of his boxers and pull them down.
His cock stands in attention, free from its restraint.
Matthew's hand shoots out, gripping my wrist firmly before I can go further. His jaw tightens, his eyes blazing with desire and anger as they lock onto mine.
"Sarah," he growls, his tone low and commanding, "stop."
His protests feel like a challenge, and I'm not backing down.
I meet his fiery gaze, my voice steady despite the rapid pounding of my heart. "I want to touch you."
His lips press into a thin line, his grip on my wrist tightening. "It doesn't matter what you want. You don't get to dictate this."
I bite my lower lip. I got us here because of my intense desire for this man so if he thinks I will never get to taste him how I want, he has another thing coming.
I scoot down and settle myself between his legs so I am at eye level with his cock. "Let go of my wrist, Matthew. Let me touch you," I say, my voice low and controlled.
"No," he murmurs.
"You are hard. Let me take care of you," I whisper.
He looks at me through half-closed lids, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He is turned on whether he likes it or not.
Matthew's grip falters slightly, and I take the opportunity to slip free. I don't give him a chance to stop me this time. My hand wraps around him, stroking him slowly, deliberately, watching his reaction. His jaw clenches, and he lets out a low, guttural sound that sends a thrill through me.
"Sarah," he warns again, but there's no conviction behind it now.
"Does it feel good?" I ask.
"You know it does," he snaps. "Take your nightgown off," he orders.
Slowly, I reach for the hem of my nightgown, pulling it over my head.
"I'm only allowing this because I can't ignore my baser needs, no other reason. You are just a body to me," he reminds me.
"Yes. I know," I reply.
"Put me in your mouth," he commands again.
I pause. "I've never done this before," I admit.
Matthew's eyes narrow, his jaw tightening as if my confession caught him off guard.
"You've never done what?" he asks, his voice lower now, almost a growl.
I shake my head, my cheeks flushing. "Pleasuring someone with my…um…mouth."
His hand cups my chin, tilting my face up so our eyes meet. "Then you'll learn," he says, his tone cold and authoritative. "And you'll do it well."
I nod slowly, determined not to let him see any hesitation.
Tentatively, I lower myself closer, my hand wrapping around him again. He's impossibly hard, the heat of him radiating against my palm. I glance up at him, his sharp features shadowed by the dim light, his expression unreadable but intense.
I lean forward, my lips brushing the tip of his cock, tasting him for the first time. His male scent fills my nostrils.
His body tenses, and I hear the sharp intake of his breath. Encouraged by his reaction, I take more of him into my mouth, moving slowly, unsure but eager to please.
Matthew's hand tangles in my hair, guiding me, his grip firm but not painful. "Don't rush," he murmurs, his voice strained. "Take your time. Use your tongue to lick the tip."
I do as he says, experimenting with my tongue and the rhythm of my movements. Every groan and twitch of his body tells me I'm doing something right. His breathing grows heavier, and his grip on my hair tightens.
Good," he says through gritted teeth. "Just like that."
I can feel his tension building. His hips start to move slightly, and I can sense the struggle he's having to maintain control. I'm determined to push him over the edge, to make him lose himself in the moment.
I take more of him into my mouth, my lips wrapping around his shaft as I suck gently. Matthew's hand guides me deeper.
"Faster," he orders, his voice strained with effort.
I increase the pace, my mouth moving in time as my hips thrust up. I feel like I might choke.
"Deeper," he orders, his voice strained to the breaking point. I take him deeper into my mouth, my lips stretching around him as he thrusts into me.
I can feel the heat building in him, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until finally…he explodes.
The sensation is overwhelming - the rush of fluid into my mouth, the taste of him on my tongue. It's a primal moment of connection between us that makes everything else melt away.
For one brief instant, we're not enemies or strangers - we're just two people lost in pleasure.
"Swallow every drop," he growls.
I swallow, tasting his semen. It's bitter, but I don't even wince. To me, this was a small victory.
Matthew's body relaxes. He lies there, his chest heaving with exertion, his eyes closed in a moment of vulnerability.
I pull back, my mouth releasing him as I sit up. Matthew's eyes flicker open, and for a moment, we just stare at each other, the only sound of heavy breathing filling the room.
Then, without a word, Matthew reaches out and pulls me up to him. He wraps his arms around me, holding me close as he buries his face in my hair. I feel a sense of surprise at the gentle gesture, but I don't pull away. Instead, I let myself be held by him, feeling a strange sense of comfort in his arms.
But as quickly as it started, the moment is over. Matthew pulls back, his expression hardening as he looks at me with a detached gaze. "Don't think this changes anything," he says coldly. "You're still just a means to an end for me."
I meet his gaze with a calm expression. "I know," I say simply.
Matthew nods curtly and rolls away from me. "Get up. We aren't here to stay in bed all day."