Unloved: Chapter 52

We spend our first day of the break watching a ridiculous number of YouTube videos, napping, and eating in bed—which is only after I let boss me around in the kitchen and snap at me for my continuous attempts at distracting her.

At night I try to tangle us into the bedsheets and slip my hands down her body, but Ro’s having none of it.

Instead, she makes me lie facedown on the bed for a massage that has noises ripping from my mouth that I’m not proud of. But judging by the flush on Ro’s cheeks when I do inevitably peek up at her, I’m not mad about the noises, either. The effect on Ro is always worth it.

After she finishes and my body feels like goo, we cuddle and put on a movie that neither of us watches, quietly sharing breath and too afraid to close our eyes or move closer.

“I want to do you now,” I finally say, pulling her shirt away from her body, and Ro’s eyes go wide.

Chuckling, I shake my head and roll her onto her stomach, leaning down to her ear to mutter, “Such a dirty mind.” Her hands grip the bedsheets, gooseflesh rippling across her neck, shoulders, and arms.

My hands reach for the lavender-scented lotion that she used on me, warming it in my hands before I press into her skin.

A groan pulls from her, low and unbidden, and my dick is immediately hard as a rock. It would’ve been hard either way—touching Ro is a kink of mine—but her? Another level of bliss.

“You don’t have to—” Her sentence cuts off into another moan.

“I want to. And you deserve this, too,” I whisper, selfishly pressing a few kisses to her spine. I reach for the lace back of her bra, the tiny clasp taunting me, before angling beneath it to rub in the lotion when she stops me.

“You can take it off.”

Ro’s suggestion is as quiet as a breeze, but I hear it like a megaphone in my ear.

Without hesitating, I deftly snap the clasp open and massage her skin reverently, growing braver as I tease the low hem of her soft, thin sleep shorts.

Her relieved moans from the easing tension of her muscles slowly turn to… something else.

I pull away when I realize how quick and heavy her breaths are, the white-knuckle grip she has on the sheets of her bed. Ro is panting, grinding lightly into her mattress, hips undulating.

It’s so fucking hot I have to swallow back a deep groan, gripping my dick hard through the material of my sweats.

“I’m sorry,” Ro suddenly says, flipping over onto her back, hiding her face and shaking her head. “I’m— I don’t know what’s wrong with me—”

“Ro.” I hover over her body. “Stop it, okay? Don’t apologize. There is nothing wrong with you.”

“I’m—that’s not—”

I brazenly grab her hand off the sheets and pull it to cup my cock, rock hard and straining against my sweats.

Her eyes go wide, pupils blown as she stares up at me with no more protests. Hesitantly, she pulls her hands back from my body and tucks them behind her, sitting half up on her elbows.

“I want to do something,” I say, sitting back on my knees. “I want you to touch yourself.”

“W-with you watching me?”

There’s anxiety all over her face, but there is also interest and curiosity. She’s still turned on, but she’s nervous. Nerves I can deal with.

“Will you do it, too?” she asks. “Please?”

“You want me to touch myself for you? Give you a little show while you play with your pretty little pussy?”

A gasp bursts from her, and her legs snap together, squeezing. Her lust-soaked embarrassment is as intoxicating as always. She’s so brazen and wanting, even beneath the anxiety that I know for a fact Tyler put there.

I’m certain there will be a day Ro will take charge of her own pleasure. When she’ll be completely unafraid to ask for what she wants. But until then, I am happy to lead her. To show her that I her to want things, to ask for anything. For her to feel good.

“Take your shorts off, Rosalie. And lie back.”

She does, slow and careful, as she keeps her eyes on me.

“Good girl.” She whimpers and I sit back, stripping off my sweats and taking myself in hand. “Open your legs for me, princess.”

Again, without hesitation she does, her glistening tan upper thighs showing how fully turned on she is.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, Ro,” I breathe. “And so wet for me.”

Her hand reaches for the place I know she’s , but I snap forward across the tiny bed and grab her wrist, relishing her needy pout.

I kiss her, quick and chaste, before leaning toward her ear and nibbling there.

“Matt—”

“Shh, baby, I know. I promise I’m gonna let you touch, but you’re gonna do it when I say. Okay?”

She whimpers as I pull away, but nods profusely.

“That’s my good girl.” I stay kneeling between her legs but back far enough away that I can watch her entire body move with the wriggling of lust and need.

“I want you to lick your fingers first, then play with your nipples, okay, Ro?”

“Okay,” she breathes, following my instructions. Her chest is heaving, skin glowing rosy gold.

I keep a firm grip on the base of my cock, reaching to squeeze my tip a little harshly to stop the continuous onslaught of tingling at the base of my spine.

“Now, slowly, I want you to trail your hand down to your thighs.” My voice is gruff, I’m so turned on, but I lean into it. “You can touch anywhere but your pussy.”

She does as I say, hands trembling as they glide along the flushed length of her body, rolling her nipple in the fingers of one hand. The other one grips her thigh for a second, as if she’s trying to restrain herself from touching.

I wait patiently as she teases herself for—

Her hips pump up into the empty air, toes curling.

“Matt,” she cries, nearly a whine. “Please—”

“Touch yourself, Rosalie,” I whisper.

There is no hesitation, her hand diving between her legs and pressing firmly against her clit before pulling back and circling with two fingers around and around.

I start to stroke myself, and she immediately stops all her movement, eyes locked where my hand roughly rubs my cock. Growling out a firm, “That’s it. Show me how you make yourself come when you’re alone.” I watch her snap back to the moment, though her eyes never leave the motion between us.

Ro bites down on her lip, like she’s trying to stop her own noises of arousal.

Angling over her body again, I pull her bottom lip away with my teeth.

“I want to hear everything. All those noises—I wanna know my girl is having a good time.”

A moan rolls through her at my words alone, and seeing her eyes flash up close like this is too intoxicating. So I adjust to rest up on one elbow, jacking myself off with my other hand, while I watch her face as she rubs faster and harder between her legs. The hitches in her breath tell me how close she really is.

“Is this how you come when I’m not here for you, princess?”

“Mm-hmm,” she squeaks. “I—I think about you, a lot.”

. She’s said it before, in the shower, but now, while I’m hanging on to threads of self-control not to come before she does, it’s enough to have me nearly snapping my jaw in half with the force of clenching it.

“Yeah?”

“I imagine you. H-how you’d be during sex. How good you are at it…” she breathes. “Sometimes I think about you teaching , like I’m your student and you’re my tutor.”

I can’t hold on, my orgasm is building, rushing through me almost too fast.

“Rosalie—”

“I’m coming,” she whimpers, legs snapping up around me where I’m still kneeling between her thighs. “Matt.”

The sound of my name as she comes, with the fantasy she painted to get herself there, are enough to have me coming so hard I see stars, arm trembling to keep me upright as I paint myself across her stomach.

We both stay still, panting for a long moment, before I turn to kiss her cheek, the corner of her mouth, her forehead, reverently.

“Stay there,” I say softly. “I’m gonna clean you up.”

“Okay,” she mutters, lax and sleepy, arms stretching out above her head as I walk backward to the bathroom, tripping hard into the wall. It gains a laugh from Ro on the bed, which is enough for me to be thanking the immediate shoulder pain.

I return with a warm, wet washcloth to clean her skin, then roll her away to scoot in after her. Drawing her to my chest, I play with her hair and press lingering kisses to her curls as she grows softer and heavier in my arms.

“Sleep, princess.”