Unloved: Chapter 55

After a Best Pizza in Massachusetts dinner, we opt for the empty Hockey House tonight. Matt stops by the dorms for me to grab everything I need to stay with him.

He ushers me to the shower, setting out a towel for me. The entire thing feels familiar and yet the tension feels turned up to a thousand.

Matt Fredderic is the hottest man I’ve ever seen—he was when I was a freshman, freshly eighteen and could count on one hand the number of boys I’d been that close to. Now, he’s breathtaking, stretched out across his messy bed, though the floor is clear.

“Did you clean in here?” I ask after my shower.

He huffs and scratches the back of his neck self-consciously. “Yeah. I wasn’t assuming we’d come here, but I… I wanted it to look nicer for you.”

“Do you have a shirt I could wear?”

My face heats up as soon as I ask. I wait for him to call me on it—he just spent fifteen minutes in an idling car waiting for me to stuff my things into a bag, and now I’m asking him for clothes that I definitely have.

“Yeah.” He nods like a bobblehead, stalling for a second before jumping into action.

Rifling through one of his drawers, he grabs an old volunteer shirt from some Christmas event. It’s soft and well worn, and most important, it smells like him.

After thanking him, I turn to face away from him and drop my towel brazenly, slipping the shirt up and over my head before pulling my messy bun down, letting my curls cascade down my back over the green material.

Everything feels lighter now, instead of the weight of some unknown responsibility that being Tyler’s girlfriend always came with. There are no games, no constant second-guessing or fear that I’m going to misstep or do something wrong. I don’t feel anxiety over the future, just a thrilling excitement for what’s next.

Matt is by the bed now, eyes blinking like an owl, unable to tear his gaze from the length of my legs. It makes my stride that much more confident before I’m crawling onto the end of the bed and relaxing into the sheets with a soft, calculated groan.

Matt audibly swallows, watching me intently.

“Ro?”

“Matt?”

“I, um… You’re really pretty.”

I smirk happily up at him. “Are you gonna just stand there or come cuddle me?”

“I’d like to do more than cuddle you,” he blurts, flicking the lights off and his bedside lamp on before coming to the foot of the bed to face me where I’m sitting.

“How do your feet feel?” he asks, his voice calm and sweet. But I can’t focus on anything except him kneeling in front of me, knowing I’m wearing nothing but his shirt. Knowing knows I’m wearing nothing but his shirt.

“Swollen,” I say. Matt is all athlete, where I’m tall with the athletic abilities of a toddler learning to walk. Bambi on ice, Sadie would call it. So the nonexistent muscles in my core and legs are aching, and my feet have a heartbeat.

He lifts my foot and massages the sole, a moan crawling from my throat.

“Does that feel good?”

My imagination is going to get me arrested for public indecency at this rate. There’s not an ounce of heat in his voice, but I might as well have heard him say, “

?”

“Uh-huh.”

Matt looks at me like he knows exactly how low my thoughts have gone, which only makes the heated blush on my cheeks feel so warm I’m convinced I’ve been lit on fire.

He works on each foot slowly, pulling obscene noises from my mouth as his hands rub leisurely up my calves to the underside of my knees. I shiver. His touch grows softer, more teasing than anything.

As he works his hands up, up, up my thighs, my entire body feels shaky, hands trembling as I struggle to hold myself up. He’s standing now, to lean over me.

“We should have sex.”

The sentence spills out of me, syllables rushing together until they’re one long word.

“Should we?” Matt asks teasingly, not letting up where his thumb works the inside of my thigh. I nod like a cartoon character in my eagerness, head bobbing outlandishly.

“Yes, but…”

The fire goes out, my body feeling cooler as Tyler’s voice lurks at the edges of my mind.

Sensing the change immediately, Matt hovers over me and tucks my hair back from my face.

“What’s wrong?” When I don’t answer, he asks again, pulling back to really look at me. “Ro, where did you go? What’s wrong?”

My throat is thick, voice scratchy and quiet as I warn him, “I might not be good at this. I don’t think… I haven’t been, in the past. And I know you’re experienced. So I don’t want to be a disappointment.”

“A disappointment?” he says, disbelieving. I nod, covering my face with my hands. He pulls them away instantly. “Rosalie—I’m—I don’t even… damn it,” he growls, shaking his head with a clenched jaw. All his relaxation and carefree enjoyment are gone, wiped clean. “I actually thought I couldn’t hate anyone more than my father, but I think Tyler takes the cake.”

I start to open my mouth, but I don’t even know what I’m planning to say.

“I’m sorry, Ro, that Tyler is a piece of shit and made you feel like that. I’m sorry he did this—that he chipped away at you until he broke your confidence. You are so perfect, so real and raw and enthusiastic. So responsive.” He shudders. “If anyone was at anything, it was him. Do you understand?”

I nod.

“Say you understand, princess.”

“I understand.”

“Good,” he sighs.

“Now give me your mouth, Rosalie. I need you.”

Everything shifts, the room growing hotter, my blood thicker with need.

My breath catches in the silence as his warmth invades my space. He hovers over me, both of us quiet. Music plays softly in the background, “Kissing in Swimming Pools” by Holly Humberstone—which tells me he found my playlist, not Sadie’s.

He kisses me slowly, purposefully, less frantic than he has before.

“It’s been a long time,” I whisper, biting my lip.

“Yeah? How long, princess?”

My gulping swallow must be visible from outer space. “Since February.”

Matt lets out a sound of approval as he kisses up my jawline, nose inhaling my skin. “And are you needy because of that? Or are you so needy because of me?”

“You,” I cry. It’s almost embarrassing how desperately I want him, mouth watering at just the sight of his body over mine. “Because of you.”

“That’s my girl.”

His praise washes over me, working like a drug, loosening every muscle in my body. Matt Fredderic is intoxicating.

He’s always been so tactile, even as a friend, but having his full attention is almost overwhelming. I could drown in him.

Skirting his hand down my body, he pulls up my shirt and ducks his head to lick and suck my nipples. I arch into his mouth with a silent cry, every single inch of my skin unbearably sensitive.

Too soon, he pulls away, standing over me at the end of the bed, eyes scorching a path down my overheated body. He trails his hand over my skin as he steps toward his nightstand, grabbing a condom.

“I was going to take my time with you,” he says, sauntering over to climb back onto the bed, hovering over me as he revs me up again. “Bury my face between your thighs until you soaked the sheets before I took you.”

Moans escape from me as his fingers play gently, teasingly, across my swollen sex.

“Please.”

“But,” he says. “You’re so soaked, so ready for me already, I don’t want to wait.”

“Don’t wait,” I pant. “Please, Matt, I need you.”

He sits back on his knees between my thighs, shucking off his sweatpants, hard, thick cock bobbing up toward his abdomen. Even just watching him roll on a condom feels like some private Magic Mike–style performance, bold and sensual.

Slowly, so slowly I’m worried I’ll combust before I get him inside of me, Matt lays his big body over mine, sinking into me gently. I gasp out a breath at the first push, grabbing for him.

“You feel so good, princess,” he whispers into my ear, and a pathetic, needy whimper spills out of me. I’m holding him around the neck, squeezing him like a cobra, my heart thundering against my rib cage. The pendant on his chain dips between us, sticking to the skin between my breasts.

He kisses my jawline again, down my neck and to my chest, sneakily sliding from my grip on him. I plant my hands on the sheets, gripping them tightly between my fingers to anchor myself, my body so light I’m worried I might float away. It’s so overwhelming.

“You gonna let me in, sweet girl?” he says. The smile on his face is gentle, but his face is lined with tension, like it’s physically taxing to hold himself like this.

“M-Matt,” I gasp, taking a shaky breath. Then, another one, as praise starts to pour from his mouth.

“I know, princess. I know. That’s it.” A kiss. Two more, covering my face gently. “Breathe and relax. Let me in.”

I do, breathing slowly as I take him in, inch by inch, feeling a little ridiculous at my lightheadedness, body feeling almost floaty.

“God,” he says, shuddering, pressing his hips to mine. I’m so full I feel like I might burst open and turn completely to starlight. “You look so beautiful, full of me like this.”

“You’re so big,” I say, slurring my words a little, lust-drunk on him. I shift my hips, realizing it feels even better to move. I raise my hands and dig into his biceps, begging him to move.

He kisses me again, lips and tongues tangling, before he’s moving—slow at first, deep, hard thrusts that turn faster, slightly more frantic.

And he never stops talking to me, praising me over and over.

“Good girl.”

“You take me so well, princess.”

“Don’t—I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

“I want to keep you like this forever—with me inside of you.”

“You’re so perfect, Rosalie. Come for me.”

I do, riding the wave easier now. His fingers work over my clit—not too hard or too soft. He’s mastered my body already, learning everything from my reactions.

“I w-want you to come,” I gasp. “I want to know what it feels like when you come inside me.”

“Fuck,” he growls, thrusts already frantic, now uneven and harder as he climbs with me this time. “Oh, , Ro—you’re squeezing me again. You gonna come with me, princess?”

I nod wildly.

“Good girl.” He drags the words out slowly and I cry out, coming hard. He follows me, shuddering as he explodes inside me.

Matt melts over me, body heavy on mine. I want to stay like this, the weight of him on my skin so warm and comforting.

Tears prick at my eyes, because sex has never been like this for me—and I’ve always wanted to feel this way. I want to tell him that. I want to thank him for making me feel so cherished and wanted and . Tell him that I’m falling in love with him.

But the words catch in my throat.

“You okay, Ro?” he asks, smiling down at me, pushing my sweat-damp hair back around my ears. “Did I… did it feel good?”

“That was amazing, Matt,” I say, grinning so hard it feels like my cheeks are splitting open. I play with the chain hanging around his neck. “I… how long until we can do it again?”

I’m embarrassed to have asked almost immediately, but the shameful feeling washes away with Matt’s huffed laughter against my neck as he ducks his head.

“Be gentle with me, you nymphomaniac,” he says, teasing.

I dissolve into laughter, curling in his arms as we whisper quietly to each other far into the night.