"Fuck!" Matt groaned as you tightened the final stitch, his muscular body tensing and twisting beneath your careful hands. His jaw clenched against the searing pain.
"Calm down, you baby," you teased with a gentle laugh, rising from your crouched position to clean up the medical supplies scattered across his coffee table. The metallic scent of blood still lingered in the air. "I'm guessing you won't be in the office tomorrow?" You couldn't help but wonder if you'd miss seeing his handsome face across the conference room.
"Not if I don't bleed out by the end of the night. Who taught you how to stitch anyway?" he coughed, attempting to stand and help but yielding when you firmly shooed him back to the couch. He sank into the cushions with a wince.
"Some failed years of medical school..." you answered wistfully, tucking away the first aid kit before reaching for your purse. The leather strap felt cool against your fingertips.
"I'm glad I'm not one of your official patients," he chuckled, then his expression shifted. His hand darted out, warm fingers encircling your wrist. "Also, where are you going?"
"Home," you stated, brows furrowing in confusion. The routine was always the same—you patched him up, you went home, he paid you a little extra. That was the arrangement. Simple. Uncomplicated.
"Stay..." he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he patted the empty spot beside him on the couch.
"Matt..."
"Sit." The word emerged as a command, firm yet gentle.
Against your better judgment, you obeyed, sinking into the cushion and placing your purse on the coffee table with a soft thud.
"Answer me four things," he murmured, shifting closer until you could feel the heat radiating from his body.
"No," you sighed, rolling your eyes at his persistence with these mysterious questions.
"Yes, for me?" he coaxed, his breathing quickening slightly, the scent of his cologne—sandalwood and something distinctly him—enveloping you.
"Fine," you conceded, curiosity getting the better of you.
"What's something you want?" His question hung in the air between you.
You paused, studying his face. Though he couldn't see you with his sightless eyes, you knew he could sense your every reaction, could hear the telltale quickening of your pulse. "Love," you admitted quietly, the word barely more than a whisper.
"What's something you need?" he pressed, leaning closer.
"A million dollars," you deflected with nervous laughter. His eyes narrowed, somehow sensing your evasion despite his blindness. The intensity of his focus made your skin tingle.
"Tell me..." he urged, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"The same thing as before—love," you confessed softly, turning away as vulnerability threatened to overwhelm you. His fingers found your chin, gently guiding you back to face him.
"Don't turn away," he murmured, the pad of his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.
"What would you do if I wanted to give you that? Love, I mean," he asked, tilting his head as if trying to better hear the frantic beating of your heart. His fingers began a delicate dance across your lap, while his thumb and index finger maintained their gentle hold on your chin.
"Matt, what's the point of this?" you whispered, your breath catching in your throat. A dizzying sensation washed over you, like champagne bubbling through your veins. His proximity made coherent thought nearly impossible.
"Answer me, please," he insisted with a gentle laugh that resonated deep within your chest.
"I... I don't know. I don't know what I'd do," you admitted, your heart thundering so loudly you were certain he could hear every erratic beat.
"Final question," he whispered, his voice cooling to a velvety calm that belied the tension between you. "Can I kiss you?"
Your mind went blank, thoughts scattering like autumn leaves in the wind. Words failed you, so you simply nodded, realizing too late that he couldn't see the gesture. But somehow, he knew. Perhaps he sensed the subtle change in your breathing or felt the tremor that ran through you.
He pulled you closer, one hand cradling the back of your neck as his lips crashed against yours. For a heartbeat, your body remained frozen, unresponsive. Then a wave of warmth coursed through you, like gentle ocean waves caressing the shore. You surrendered to the sensation, pressing deeper into the kiss, teeth grazing his bottom lip—an invitation he readily accepted, his tongue slipping past to meet yours. A moan escaped you as you gave yourself over completely to the moment.
With a fluid motion that belied his injured state, Matt pulled you onto his lap. The friction between your bodies drew a groan from deep within his chest. "You're perfect... so goddamn perfect," he breathed, pulling away just enough to cup your face, his unseeing eyes somehow still managing to take in every inch of you. Your breathing slowed as he spoke again, his voice rough with desire. "I wish I could see you... every inch of you."
His lips found your neck, tracing a burning path across sensitive skin. Each kiss, each gentle suck left marks of possession behind—a constellation of his devotion blooming across your skin.
"Matt!" The exclamation tore from your throat when he bit down gently on the junction between your neck and shoulder. His low laughter vibrated against your skin as his hands found your hips, guiding you down against the unmistakable evidence of his arousal.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. Your mind raced through a thousand possibilities, a thousand reasons why this was a terrible idea. Yet your lips remained sealed, unable—unwilling—to voice any objection.
"Good girl," he purred, and those two simple words unraveled the last of your resistance.
In one fluid motion, he stood, lifting you with him. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he navigated confidently through his apartment to the bedroom, his blindness no impediment to his knowledge of the space. With tender care, he laid you on the bed, the cool silk sheets a stark contrast to your feverish skin.
His hands found the waistband of your pants, fingers toying with the button. "May I?" he asked, his respect for boundaries evident even in the midst of passion. You nodded, then remembering his condition, whispered a breathless "Yes."
The cool air of his bedroom kissed your exposed legs as he removed your pants with agonizing slowness. His fingers traced the lace edge of your underwear, drawing a contented hum from his lips. "Tell me what color they are, beautiful," he requested as he began to slide them down.
"Red lace," you answered, your voice trembling as his fingers brushed against sensitive skin.
"Perfect," he murmured, finally removing the last barrier between you.
"Matt... please be gentle," you pleaded, vulnerability creeping into your voice as you gazed down at him positioned between your thighs.
"I will," he promised, his voice tender. "Don't worry, just relax, okay? Just relax for me." His touch was reverent as he parted your folds, his fingertips swirling through the evidence of your desire. His appreciative moan and whispered praises for your body sent shivers racing down your spine.
Your eyes fluttered shut when he slipped one finger inside, followed by a second, then a third. By then, coherent thought had abandoned you entirely. Your moans crescendoed, echoing off the walls as your back arched off the silk sheets, seeking more of his exquisite touch.
"Cum for me, beautiful," he commanded, his voice dark velvet wrapped around iron. "Can you do that for me?" The combination of his skilled touch and commanding tone pushed you over the edge. Your abdomen tightened, thighs clamping around his hand as pleasure coursed through you in relentless waves.
"You're so good for me," he whispered as he withdrew his fingers and positioned himself at your entrance. "This is going to hurt a bit, okay?" His hands found your hips, gripping firmly as he slowly, carefully joined your bodies. A deep groan escaped him, his fingers pressing harder into your soft skin, anchoring you to the moment.
After allowing you time to adjust to the sensation, he began to move. Each thrust was deep and deliberate, the rhythm building gradually until your entire world narrowed to the points where your bodies connected. Your throat burned raw from crying out his name, tears stinging your eyes as pleasure bordering on pain built within you.
"Matt! Matt! Please!" The desperate plea tore from your lips as he drove into you with increased intensity.
"Please what? Tell me, beautiful," he demanded, his breath scorching against your neck as he kissed a path from your throat to your collarbone.
"Please... let me cum," you begged, nails raking down his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks of ecstasy in their wake.
A soft laugh rumbled through his chest as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. "As you wish," he consented, delivering one final, powerful thrust. Your body responded instantly, muscles clenching around him as release washed over you in overwhelming waves. Through the haze of your own pleasure, you felt the warmth of his release filling you, his guttural moan of satisfaction mingling with your softer cries.
As your breathing gradually returned to normal, he withdrew carefully and settled beside you on the bed. You took his hand and placed it over your heart, still racing beneath his palm.
"What do you hear?" you asked softly.
"Love," he answered with a tender laugh that made your heart swell. He cupped your face with one hand while the other drew you closer.
"Thank you... for staying tonight," he murmured, fingertips tracing the contours of your face as if committing them to memory.
You laughed softly at his gratitude, eyes growing heavy as exhaustion began to claim you. "I knew that if I left... I'd never tell you how I really feel," you confessed, fingers absently playing with his tousled hair.
"And how do you feel?" he prompted.
"Like I'm the happiest woman on earth, being in love with you," you answered truthfully, the words flowing easily now that the barrier between you had crumbled.
His rich chuckle enveloped you like a warm blanket, melting away any lingering doubts. "Well," he promised, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, "I'll continue to make you the happiest woman on earth."
As sleep claimed you, wrapped in his arms, you knew with absolute certainty that this night had changed everything—and for once, you weren't afraid of what tomorrow might bring.