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adoremattsturns · 21 days ago

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‘THE LOVE HOTEL’ — MATT STURNIOLO

pairing. matt sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut, strangers au.

word count. 6.7k

❝there's a place just around the corner from here, you seen it? the buildin' with the red neon lights?❞

content warnings. explicit content, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, stranger sex, creampies, oral (receiving & giving), matt the munch, hair pulling, light spanking, light dirty talk, 'baby' & 'sweetheart' for use of petnames.

He's been staring at you the entire night.

And honestly? You've been staring at him too.

The first time was when you walked into the bar to meet a friend. He was standing at the bar, ordering his drink of choice, his gaze sweeping over the overcrowded room before his eyes landed on you—just for a brief moment.

It was quick—subtle—before he turned back to the bartender and you turned to greet your friend.

The second time was on your way to the bathroom. A slight bump with someone passing by made you stumble, and as you turned to apologise, your line of sight caught him again. Over the shoulder of the stranger in front of you, there he was; sitting alone in the corner of the dimly lit room, a beer bottle hovering near his lips.

His eyes found yours, steady and deliberate, before you slipped around the corner.

The third—and what should have been the last—was on the dance floor. Your friend had drunkenly whisked you up from your seat with a sharp tug of your wrist, insisting you join her for a song you both loved; her arms draped loosely around your shoulders as she slurred the lyrics in your ear, and you obviously couldn't help but laugh and sing along. But even then, your attention wasn't entirely on her... it drifted to him.

He hadn't moved. Still in that same corner, his chin now resting on his palm, his eyes locked on you. Watching.

In any other situation, it might have unsettled you. You'd have thrown him the dirtiest glare you could muster until he looked away... but this was different.

He's attractive—extremely so—and you don't really want him to look away from you.

You like the way he watches you. You like his attention. And you'd be lying if you said it didn't make you feel a little more confident.

As midnight creeps closer, you find yourself—no, needing—one of you to make the first move. The tension had been building all night, which is why you decide to stay behind when you friend announces that her boyfriend is on his way to pick her up.

She pouts, her bottom lip jutting out as slurred, drunken protests tumble from her lips when she says she wants to stay with you, to enjoy the rest of the night, but you know she's already reached her limit.

Gently, you insist that she goes home and gets some much needed rest as you guide her toward the passenger seat of her boyfriend's car, exchanging a few quiet words with him before stepping back, watching as the car disappears into the night.

Returning inside the bar, you slip back into your seat, the low hum of music and chatter surrounding you once more as your eyes flicker toward the stranger again.

You can't help it.

Over the rim of your wine glass, you sneak glances at him, using the drink as some sort of liquid courage... you are determined to make the first move.

But as your confidence builds, it begins to falter.

He isn't watching you anymore, his attention shifted to something else—his phone. His thumb moves idly, scrolling or typing something (you're not sure), while his other hand cradles a half-empty beer bottle.

Is... he getting ready to leave? Ordering a cab? Messaging someone waiting for him at home?

"Pretty boy usually stays until closing."

The sudden voice snaps you back to reality, and your head turns slowly toward the bartender, who's leaning on the counter with a knowing smirk. She slides an untouched beer bottle in your direction, and you open your mouth to speak, to tell her that you didn't order a beer, but she's quick to cut you off.

"It's on the house... it's his favourite."

A grin spreads across your lips as the realisation dawns on you—that the bartender is playing the role of the ultimate wingwoman of the night. You thank her gratefully, and she responds with a playful wink before turning to fix a drink for the next customer.

With a surge of newfound confidence, you pick up the beer bottle and your own drink, your heart rapidly pounding in your chest as you make your way toward the stranger's table with a determined stride.

"You look lonely," his gaze slowly lifts from his phone upon hearing your voice, dark and steady eyes meeting yours, and his eyebrows raise at your sudden arrival. "Mind if I join you?"

"Seat's all yours." he responds, and in an instant, the tone of his voice makes you fumble. It's so low, smooth, unhurried, and the confidence you had been clinging to feels like it's slipping away.

But somehow, much to your surprise, you stay calm—composed.

With perfect posture and an unwavering smile, you settle down into the seat across from him, trying not to falter even more beneath his intense gaze. His dark, curious eyes follow your every move, watching as you slide the beer bottle across the table until it stops right in front of him.

"For you."

"F'me?" he repeats, a soft hum escaping his lips as his hand reaches out to wrap around the neck of the bottle, the silver rings on his fingers tap lightly against the glass as he turns it, inspecting the label. His eyebrows lift, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "How did y'know I like this?"

"I have my ways," you reply with a playful tone before you decide to come clean. "Actually, the bartender picked it out... said it's your favourite?"

"Yeah... it is," he says with a nod as a soft smile tugs at his lips—a smile so fucking genuine and effortless it makes your chest tighten. He looks even better up close, and you feel a little giddy, unable to tear your eyes away from what might just be the prettiest sight you've even seen.

It's embarrassing, the effect he has on you already.

"Thank you," he says, his voice warm and sincere. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he adds, "I'll buy the next round?"

Realistically, you should tell him the truth—that the beer was actually given to you for free, no money spent on your part. But the thought of him buying you your next drink feels like an open invitation to spend more time with him, and there's no fucking way you're about to pass that up.

Not when the opportunity has been handed to you so easily.

So, you smile. You nod. And you take a sip of your wine to hide the excitement threatening to reveal itself on your face, though you're not entirely sure you're doing a good job of it.

With the way your cheeks ache from smiling and the way your eyes light up? It's more than likely written all over your face.

Conversation flows surprisingly naturally between the two of you. You learn his name is Matt, which, you think, suits his face perfectly. When you tell him your name, he repeats it softly, almost like a whisper, and it takes everything in you not to lean across the table and claim his lips right then and there.

He's employed, though he doesn't tell you what his profession is. Maybe that should raise a red flag, but you prefer to think he keeps his work life private, separating that from his personal life. He's also twenty-one, single, and, to your surprise, the second oldest in a set of triplets.

The way Matt speaks leaves you captivated; he explains things with so much care and adoration, appreciating even the smallest things that makes your chest fill with warmth.

But then he rolls up his sleeves mid-conversation, and suddenly, it's very fucking hard to focus on anything else.

Your eyes zero in on his forearms—on the tattoos inked into his skin, the veins that trace their way up, and the muscles that flex ever so slightly when he crosses them over his chest to lean back into his chair.

You're so distracted, practically drooling at the mouth, and you barely register that he's said something until his question pulls you back to reality.

"You good over there?" he asks, his head tilting to the side, and the glint in his eyes is almost enough to make you combust. "You've gone all uh, quiet on me."

"Sorry," you blurt out, scrambling for an excuse with an awkward laugh. "I think the wine's getting to me."

"Right." he hums, his lips curling up into a seemingly knowing smile as he reaches for his beer. Thankfully, he chooses not to press further, taking a sip instead.

But just as the bottle grazes his lips, his phone buzzes against the table and he pauses, lowering the drink slightly to glance at the screen. Another vibrations follows. Then another, and another, and another. You catch the slight tensing of his jaw, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face as he sighs and sets the bottle down.

With a quick swipe, he unlocks his phone to view the full set of messages that are flooding in rapidly.

Your lips press together, watching him carefully. You're not upset about him being on his phone—he's already given you his full attention for the most of the night. But there's something about the constant notifications that leaves you feeling concerned.

Still, you offer him a soft smile. "Need to leave?"

"No, no, s'just uh... brother stuff, s'all," he says with a dismissive wave of his hand, his tone casual but vague. He doesn't elaborate further, and you decide not to push.

Instead, you nod in understanding and take a slow sip from your wine glass, letting the moment settle.

When he looks back up from his phone, his gaze lands on you, lingering just a little too long. His eyes soften, and the corner of his mouth twitches subtly.

"I don't mind leavin', though," he says, his tone low. "If you're up for it."

The words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you're frozen. You try to mask your surprise at his sudden forwardness, though you shouldn't be shocked—this is exactly what you've wanted all along, isn't it?

Your heart skips a beat, trying to keep composed as your pulse quickens. "Oh? Where would you like to go?"

"There's a place just around the corner from here, you seen it? The buildin' with the red neon lights?"

You have, but it doesn't hurt to play dumb every now and then. "No, I haven't. What is it?"

The corner of his lips twitch upward, "It's a hotel. The kind for uh, two—or more—people wantin' privacy... couples, strangers, whatever. You can stay the night normally, but uh... s'commonly used as a love hotel."

"A love hotel?" you repeat, the words rolling off your tongue as excitement and arousal builds within you at the thought of spending the night with him. You want it—god, you want it so fucking bad—but teasing him feels too tempting to resist. "And what makes you think I'd want to spend a night with you in a love hotel?"

"I don't," Matt says with a casual shrug, his smile never wavering from his face. "It's up to you. You can say no, 'n we'll forget all about it. I'll pay for the rest of our drinks. If you want to leave, I'll even cover your cab to make sure you get home safe."

"And if I say yes?"

He tilts his head, his eyes sweeping across your face with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "Think y'know what happens if you say yes."

This time, you can't hide your grin, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as you hum. "Was this your plan from the start? To get me to the hotel?"

"No," Matt replies, shaking his head. His voices dips lower as he leans across the table. "Truthfully? I would've fucked you here in the bathroom if you were up for it, but..." he trails off, his tongue pressing into his cheek as the heat pools low in your tummy from his words alone. "You deserve somethin' better than that, don't you think?"

Matt's arm rests loosely around your shoulder, his hand intertwined with yours as he leads you toward the entrance of the Love Hotel. His thumb occasionally brushes against your knuckles, sending tiny sparks of warmth through you with each subtle squeeze.

The neon red lighting grows brighter as you approach, almost too harsh to handle up close. You duck your head slightly, shielding your eyes from the glare, but your gaze keeps drifting back to the building; the architecture leaving you gaping in awe.

The lighting inside is softer, still tinted with those sultry red hues, but far more bearable. The walls are lined with vines—fake, most likely, though they're convincing enough—with roses scattered along their stems. Paper hearts in every shade of pink dangle from the ceiling and lie across the floor, catching the faint glow of the lights.

You glance around, searching for a traditional reception desk, but there's none in sight which throws you off guard for a moment, but Matt moves with purpose, guiding you toward a sleek digital touchscreen at the end of the hallway.

"This is how you check in?" you ask, watching as he taps a few icons.

"Mhm," he hums casually, his fingers gliding across the screen like he's done this before. A list of room options pop up, each with a small preview image. "D'you want a room that comes with alcohol or snacks or somethin'?"

"I'm fine... unless you want anything?"

Matt shakes his head, giving your hand another squeeze before selecting one of the rooms. You watch as the touchscreen displays a loading animation of heart-shaped bubbles, the screen glowing softly before the price appears.

Not that it matters—he moves too quickly for you to even process the number, tapping his card against the machine with ease, and a final bubble pops up on the screen with the word SUCCESSFUL! in bold, cheerful letters.

Without missing a beat, he leads you down another hallway lined with a series of doors, some glow with VACANT signs, while others are marked with PREOCCUPIED.

"S'all soundproof," Matt tells you, noticing the way your eyes linger on one of the PREOCCUPIED signs. "That's why you can't hear anythin'... it's privacy for the guests."

His explanation makes total tense, but there's something about the mysterious silence that leaves you feeling a little odd. Still, the question that's been lingering on the tip of your tongue since you arrived finally escapes.

"Have you been here before?" you ask, peering at him curiously.

"No, no," he answers you honestly with a quick shake of his head. "But uh, someone I know has been here a few times... s'why I know so much about it."

"Right," you hum teasingly, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I'm guessing they told you everything to prepare you for when you decide to bring someone?"

Matt grins and reaches out to grip the handle on the door, "Nah, more like havin' been forced to listen during breakfast," he pauses for a moment, smirks, then continues, "Good thing I listened, yeah?"

When he swings open the door open, his hand finds the small of your back, guiding you inside with a gentle pressure. The rooms décor doesn't surprise you; in fact, you pretty much expected the ongoing colour scheme of pinks and reds. Still, it's impossible not to snort quietly at the singular white couch tucked in the corner, its attempt to blend in with the addition of a few red pillows being somewhat successful.

Kicking off your shoes at the entrance, you take a few steps into the room, your curiosity drawing you toward the bedside table. There, you find a heart-shaped ceramic bowl filled to the brim with condoms in various sizes and flavours.

The sight makes your lips twitch into a grin—practical, if not amusing—and you can't help but shake your head slightly at the boldness of it all.

When you turn back to Matt, he's engrossed in the digital touchscreen display mounted on the wall. His back is to you as he fiddles with the light settings, and you bite your lip, suppressing a laugh when he accidentally turns the lights off completely. A moment later, they're at full brightness, blinding harsh, before he finally adjusts them to a warm, dim glow.

Caught peeking over his shoulder, he glances back at you with a sheepish smile before bringing his attention to the music selection, scrolling through the options.

There's something so endearing about how seriously he's taking everything, like he wants everything to be just right for you. It makes your chest tighten in the best way.

It's amusing, really. You both know why you're here, but instead of rushing and getting down to business, he's taking his time.

"Alright," he exhales finally, settling on a sensual track with the right tempo and volume. He turns slightly toward you, his lips parting to speak. "So, do you—"

But you don't wait for him to finish.

Closing the distance, you throw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close as your lips press against his. His lips are soft and warm, and for a brief second, Matt stills, his eyes widening slightly before a low, breathing laugh escapes against your mouth.

It only takes a moment for him to recover, his arms winding around your waist as his hands press firmly against your lower back, drawing you flush against him. The kiss deepens, and you feel the tension melt away from both of you as you lose yourself in the moment.

The taste of beer lingers faintly on his lips, mingling with the scent of his aftershave. His thumb grazes slow, mindless patterns against your lower back, a small gesture that sends shivers down your spine, and his tongue slips into your mouth when your lips part for him.

You don't register the movement at first as Matt walks you backward, blindly leading you without breaking the kiss. Your foot catches awkwardly on itself, and you let out a muffled noise, stumbling slightly.

Matt pulls back just enough to chuckle softly against your lips, his forehead pressing to yours. "Careful.."

You refuse to let the embarrassment ruin the moment, and you reclaim his lips, this time hooking your fingers into the collar of his skirt to keep him close. You gently suck on his bottom lip, feeling the quiet groan that rumbles in his chest as his grip tightens on you, kissing you harder, his lips hungry and unrelenting.

He stops leading you backward just as the back of your legs bump the edge of the bed, and his hands move to unfasten the button of your pants, exhaling into the kiss as your own hands come down to unbuckle the belt on his jeans.

Breaking the kiss, you both rid each other quickly of your clothes, leaving you both in just your underwear—you mentally give yourself the biggest part on the back for wearing a matching set, feeling confident and sexy with the way Matt's staring you down.

Then, he smiles—that smile you find so fucking pretty. He bends his knees slightly, wrapping his arms around your lower back to lift you up from the floor, pressing his face between your breasts, feeling his warm breath fan across your skin.

It tickles, and you can't help but giggle softly, securing your legs around his waist to ensure you don't fall—even though he has a firm grip on you.

Your fingers thread through his hair as he kisses and licks at your chest, sucking at the skin as he turns to sit at the edge of the bed, settling you in his lap as his hands move to grab your ass, his palm coming down once hard on your cheek and you whine at the sting, tugging at the roots of his hair.

"Touch me," you plead him, arching away from his lips to get a good look at him, the adrenaline pumping through your veins at his dishevelled appearance; his lips are swollen, his eyes dark and hazy, and his hair is a complete mess while his cheeks are rosy. "Please... want you to touch me."

"Yeah?" he whispers, his eyebrow raising. "How bad?"

You huff at that, refusing to answer his teasing as you kiss him again, tilting your head to the side with your hands cupping his cheeks. He grins against your lips, and he slides his hand between your bodies, pressing two fingers to your clit over your underwear and you hiss at the sudden contact, tightening your grip on him.

"You wanted me t'touch you," you hear him mutter as he pulls away from your lips, not before giving you one chaste smooch. "M'just doin' exactly what you asked."

"You know that's not what I meant," You send a playful glare his way before you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Matt's lips downturn into a frown and looks utterly confused as you slide off of him, and he opens his mouth to apologise for his previous teasing before he stops. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline in amusement as he watches you settle down on your knees in front of him.

You're pulling a little impatiently at his boxers to get them off, and Matt even raises his hips to help you, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as you slide the material down his legs and throw them somewhere behind you, not caring where it lands as you wrap your hand around his cock.

Matt inhales sharply, and he leans back on his palms to watch you play with his cock—squeezing at the base and pressing your thumb down on his slit, causing him to let out a breathy laugh as he tilts his head back.

The effect you have on him already builds your arousal, and your pussy throbs, feeling your underwear stick uncomfortably to your folds. You ignore it for the time being, focussing your attention on Matt as you loll out your tongue, teasing the tip with a few kitten licks.

Matt's stomach sinks in with a gasp before his muscles tense, hissing through his teeth. "Fuuck.."

You take his cock further into the warmth of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around him as you suck him hard, using your tongue to tease beneath the mushroom tip. Matt's chest vibrates with a groan as he reaches out, placing his hand on the back of your head, and you gaze up at him, struggling to smile with your mouth full.

"Takin' me so well, sweetheart.." he praises, his eyes refusing to look away from his cock that disappears deeper down your throat, enthralled with the way you're bobbing your head and swallowing him around him. "Good girl... can... can I fuck that pretty throat?"

You immediately nod your head, gargling in response. But that doesn't seem to work with him.

"No. Tell me I can... use your words."

His cock falls from your lips with a lewd, wet pop. "You can fuck my throat."

"Thank you," you're surprised at his whispers gratitude, although it doesn't last long when he's already easing his cock back into your mouth, and the tears bubble in your eyes as his tip hits the back of your throat, a guttural groan leaving his lips.

He's thrusting his hips faster, and you let your jaw hang loose, doing your very best to use your tongue and suckle him whenever your nose brushes against his navel.

Your throat feels so raw already, on the verge of coughing and gagging—you're not sure. But the sheer size of his cock is enough to have you gargling every time he slips further down your throat, and Matt seems to enjoy your struggles as he grins down at you, affectionately smoothing that back of your head before resuming his grip.

"M'gonna cum," Matt warns you quietly. "Gonna cum in your mouth, yeah? Can you swallow it f'me? Please?"

Who the fuck are you to say no to that?

You take the initiative this time, moving your head up and down, and using your hands to fondle his heavy balls, massaging them between your fingers. It tips him over the edge, and with one deep thrust, you feel his cock twitch on your tongue before spurts of cum shoot down the back of your throat, causing you to moan and swallow every last drop he gives you.

Matt's hand tightens on your hair to pull your off his cock, and he tilts your head back with a tug that makes you wince, but you welcome the burn on your scalp.

You're panting heavily, trying to catch your breath, inhaling and exhaling steadily through your nose to let the oxygen seep back into your lungs while he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the middle of your forehead, wiping the drool and cum off your lips with his thumb.

"Good girl," he praises you again, using his other hand to delicately wipe at the tears that roll down your cheeks from the strain. "You did so well f'me... want me to get you some water?"

"No," you shake your head, your voice hoarse. "I just want to feel you—need to feel you. Now."

"Not yet," he tells you, and you're positive you're about to start crying, so utterly desperate to feel his cock and satisfy that dull ache between your thighs.

He gently grabs your elbow to pull you up from your kneeling position on the floor, keeping you stood between his legs as his nimble fingers reach around to unhook your bra before dipping to the waistband on your lacy panties, pulling them down your legs slowly while keeping his gaze on you.

You find yourself asking, "Why'd you love to tease so much?"

Matt shrugs his shoulders, pressing a kiss to your tummy as he answers. "Turns me on," His hands grope the flesh of your thighs, massaging the skin as he hums. "Think you can stand up for a little longer?"

You're confused now, and your brows pinch together as you look down at him. "What do you mean?"

"Kinda wanna eat you out like this," he murmurs softly, his tongue wetting his bottom lip as he pulls you closer to his face, and his hand tightens his grip on your thigh. "Want your leg over my shoulder. You can grab my hair to hold yourself up, if you want... but I promise, m'not gonna let you fall."

Despite still being confused, you're also extremely curious about the position which is the sole reason you're agreeing, and you let out a noise of surprise when he suddenly hooks your thigh over his shoulder, resting his palms on your ass to stabilise you.

You feel the strain on the back of your leg that's on the ground, almost perched up on your tiptoes at an unusual angle. But all your worries and concerns disperse when you feel his tongue slowly lick between your folds, flicking over your clit which makes you gasp loudly.

Your body curls in on him, and your hands thread through his hair as his mouth attaches to your pussy completely, squeezing your ass as he sucks on your clit. The pleasure courses through your veins like lava, and a shrill buzzes up your spine as uncontrollable moans fall from your lips, unable to stop the volume.

He's grunting against you as you rut against his face, and he's mumbling incoherent words about how good you taste as his tongue dips inside your cunt. You let out broken mewls, your fingers curling in his hair and your legs begin to tremble, causing you to become slightly fearful that you'll slip.

Matt seems to understand your concern, and suddenly, he's pulling away to unhook your leg off his shoulder and throws you onto the bed. He's already crawling between your thighs and attaching his mouth back to your soppy pussy before you can even beg for him to return to you.

He dives in deep with his tongue, the wet muscle pushing into your quivering hole as he yanks both of your legs over his shoulders to push his face closer to your cunt, and you happily oblige by wrapping your legs around his head, keeping him locked between your thighs as your back bows.

His nose nudges against your clit, making your toes curl at the stimulation and for your eyes to roll to the back of your head, losing yourself in the pleasurable haze and the sound of his own muffled moans as he laps at you like a starved animal, his hands glued to your hips to keep you still.

As if you're going to move away.

You're enjoying this way too much, and you internally thank whoever for giving him the talent to eat pussy as amazingly good as he does. You could almost fucking cry tears of absolute joy.

It's when you feel his lips circle around your clit again that forcefully rips you out of your own head and you curse loudly, your mouth falling agape and eyebrows pinching together as you tug harder at his hair, a smile threatening to slip across your face as you hear him moan once more.

The second you feel his hand move from your hip to join his mouth at your pussy, easing two fingers inside your cunt as he makes a mess of spit and drool on your clit, that's when you feel the knot in your stomach tighten, inching you closer and closer to your release.

"Maaattt..." you whine pitifully, "I'm... I'm gonna cum."

He nods in response to your claims, fucking you harder and faster with his fingers while suckling at your clit with so much vigour it has you wailing loudly, making you wonder if the soundproof walls are enough to even hide your sounds.

It's euphoric when you reach your high; a choked gasp rips from the back of your throat as your back bows again, hips rutting against his face as he continues his motions, feeling him smile as your orgasm wracks through your body.

You're overwhelmed. There's sweat beading at your hairline, and your vision is blurry and your mind is blank. You feel like you're choking, trying your hardest to catch your breath once again as your chest heaves rapidly.

You tug at his hair to get him to stop which he does reluctantly, pressing gentle kisses to your inner thighs as he carefully drops your legs from his shoulders, watching as they limply bounce on the bed.

"Fuck," Matt grunts as he pushes himself up onto his knees, bis chin is covered in spin and your juices. His fingers slowly slip out of your pussy and your jaw drops open with a sharp inhale, watching through hazy vision as he brings them to his mouth, sucking the digits clean.

You find yourself unable to talk, too focussed on trying to regulate your breathing and come back to earth, the silk sheets feeling uncomfortably sticky on your clammy skin.

Matt's looming over you now, caressing your cheek and blowing cool air on your face. "You good baby?"

"Perfect," you tell him.

"Good," he whispers softly, leaning down to press his lips to yours and you can taste yourself on his tongue as it dips into your mouth to glide with your own. He tilts his head to kiss you deeper as he lays between your legs, his bare chest flushed against yours as he pulls back to ask, "More?"

"Yeah, more," you nod immediately. "Please."

"You don't have to beg me," he murmurs as he pecks your lips before glancing down. "Think I might have to finger you again—"

"No," you shake your head this time. "Don't need that.. I need your cock."

Matt whispers your name quietly, seemingly hesitant. "But—"

"It's fine. I can take it," you assure him quickly, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders to prevent him from moving, although you know he can easily move away if he wanted to. "I'm fine. I just—need it—need your cock. I need to feel you. I'll beg, I swear—"

"Hey, hey..." Matt cuts off your rambling, stroking your cheek in calming motions. "Told you, yeah? You don't have to beg me for anythin'. I'll give you what you want, okay? Just.. just promise me. Promise me you're fine."

"I promise."

"Okay, baby..."

You can feel his cock press against your thigh, and your body shivers at the contact, your grip loosening on him as he leans back on his knees to look down at your cunt. He grabs his cock with one hand, the other massaging your thighs as he moves his hips forward, dragging his cock through your puffy folds.

You tense a little when you feel the head of his cock rest against your entrance, and he lifts his head to meet your gaze, giving you one last silent ask and you nod your head in confirmation.

Your mouth falls agape as Matt pushes into you, stretching you out of his cock, and you feel the burn in your inner thighs and walls as your pussy struggles to take him, inch by inch.

He's not even halfway in yet, and you do begin to fear that maybe you can't take him fully.

"Shiiit," he begins to curse, sucking sharply through his teeth, his eyes locked in on your puffy folds that fit snug around his cock. "Suckin' me in so fuckin' tight—shit—need to relax f'me, okay? Can you do that? Relax a lil' f'me?"

"Too big," you whine out pathetically, tears bubbling across your lash line as your hands grip the bed sheets.

"I know, I know.." he coos softly as he leans back over your body, making him slip further inside of you which makes you whine. He litters sweet kisses across your cheeks and jawline, "Doin' sooo well f'me already though... relax 'n breathe. Deep breaths, sweetheart."

The simple pet name shouldn't make you feel the way it does, but your chest blooms with warmth at his caring tone, and you find yourself relaxing slowly, taking steady breaths as he pushes deeper inside, stretching you out completely as his hips press to yours.

Matt waits for a few moments longer, his lips still pressing kisses to your jawline as he gives you however long you need to adjust to the sheer size of his cock before he begins to thrust slowly, pulling back to leave the tip nestled in your opening before thrusting all the way back in.

Your hands slide up to his shoulder blades, your nails digging into his skin and creating red indents as he moans at the contact, panting heavily in the crevice of your neck and leaving wet kisses in his path as his hips find a suitable pace to fuck into you, your pebbled nipples brushing against his chest.

"Faster," you whisper to him, only to squeal in surprise when he actually starts to pound into your faster—and harder—the bed rocking with each powerful thrust.

His lips meet yours in a messy, heated kiss, panting into each others mouths as your fingers tangle in the hair on the nape of his neck. The tight grip he has on your hips is pleasant, and his cock hits so fucking deep that it makes your body shake as he ruts into you.

You're trying your best to keep up with the kiss—you really are—but the pleasure becomes too much, and you're stuck with your mouth open wide, uncontrollably moaning and on the verge of tears.

It makes you feel a little pathetic to be crying over someone's cock making you feel this good... but this someone's cock is definitely worth crying over.

Much to your delight, Matt is loud; deep moans and grunts leave his lips, and he curses through incoherent words that sound similar to praises, but you struggle to make out what he's saying—head too blank and the sound of skin slapping against skin is echoing too loudly in your ears.

The knot in your stomach slowly starts to tighten again and you mewl, your grip tightening in fear that the pace he's fucking you will slow down or come to an abrupt stop, despite it being completely obvious that he's not going to do any of those things.

"You close?" he hums, his eyes flicking to yours. "Feels like you're close, baby... gonna cum f'me? Cum all over my cock like the good girl you are?"

His words make your head spin wildly, and you struggle to nod.

"Yeah?" he practically purrs those words to you, and that knot in your stomach starts to feel as though it's about to snap. "M'gonna cum f'you too. Fill this pussy up... is that okay? Want me to fill you up? Fuck you full of my cum?"

You nod your head once more in response.

"Say it," he growls, "Use your words."

"Fuck—please. Fill me up. Do whatever you want, just don't stop!"

He chuckles softly, "Cute."

You're not exactly sure what tips you over the edge. Was it his lips on your neck? The whispered praises in your ear? The pace of his hips that fuck his cock deep into you? Or his hand that slips between your bodies to rub circles on your clit?

It could be any—it could be all of the above.

Whatever it is, it has your pussy clamping tightly around his cock as your second orgasm of the night hits you hard. Your head flings back against the plush pillows, and your back arches as your body trembles.

Matt greedily fucks you through your high, his fingers still rubbing circles on your clit, leaving you a shaking and sensitive mess.

Then, he makes a noise, a noise that sends a tingle down your spine as he cums, fucking into you at a slow and steady pace as he empties himself inside your pussy. You're both panting heavily, your skin glistening with sweat and bodies unbelievably sticky.

It's an uncomfortable feeling, but you make no effort to even care about it as your body lays limp on the bed, feeling as Matt slowly lifts himself off you, and your face twists as you feel his cock slide out of your cunt.

Your hips jerk when you feel his fingers gently brush over your messy folds, scooping his cum and carefully pushing it back inside as it leaks. You whine at the feeling, and you can hear him chuckle, murmuring a quiet apology before he stands from the bed.

You don't have the time to wonder where he's heading as he's already returning back with a wet towel in hand. He sits back down to pry your legs open to clean you up, and honestly, you're shocked.

This has never happened before with your previous hook-ups, so you did not expect it to happened to you today.

You're pleasantly surprised, so you allow him to continue. "You good?" he asks once he's finished cleaning you up, and his hand rubs your knee. You're too into his touch to notice he's asked you a question until he calls out your name.

You blink, "What?"

Matt smiles, "I asked if you're good."

"I'm more than good," you admit to him truthfully, watching as the smile on his face widens. You sit up, and he kindly holds your elbow to help you upright while his other hand pushes the hairs that stick to your sweaty face before he leans in, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is super short and sweet, not lasting as long as you wish it did and it leaves you craving for more when he pulls away from you.

"So.." you clear your throat, your voice still a little horse. "What now?"

"What now?" Matt repeats as he hums in thought. "First... m'gonna get you some water to help your throat," he says as he slips off the bed to grab a cold bottle of water from the mini-fridge. "Then, if you want, I can fuck you again."

Your brows raise at that, intrigued. "Really?"

"I uh, booked this room for the entire night," he tells you as he returns, holding out the water in your direction to take with a smile on his lips. "Why not make the most of it?"

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