Page 53 of Chained By Fate (Dark Billionaires: Vegas #1)
A wicked grin stretched across Matt’s face at the reminder. “That I did, pet.” He took a long sip of his coffee, gaze roaming over Andy’s bare torso with undisguised hunger.
Shifting beneath Matt’s smoldering stare, Andy pulled the sheet up higher. “If you’re just going to leer at me, I might as well put some clothes on.”
“Oh, but where’s the fun in that?” Matt countered with a wink. Still, he took pity on the flustered young man. “Alright, alright. I suppose I can be a good maid to my princess and fetch you a robe.”
The glare Andy shot him could have melted steel. “I am not a princess,” he snapped, cheeks flushing adorably. “And if I am, then you’re the wicked stepmother.”
Matt simply laughed, pushing away from the table. “Whatever you say, darling.”
With a swagger in his step, he strode over to the walk-in closet, already scheming. A robe would be far too concealing for his tastes. No, he wanted Andy in something that would showcase those gorgeous legs, that lean, toned body. Something that would tease and tempt with every swish of fabric.
A slow, sinful smile curled Matt’s lips as he grabbed one of his crisp white dress shirts from the rack. The mere thought of Andy swimming in the oversized garment, all tousled hair and bare legs, was enough to make his mouth water.
Sauntering back out, Matt held up the shirt with a smirk. “How’s this, Your Highness? “One shirt, fresh from your humble servant.”
Andy’s brows hiked upward as he eyed the shirt. “Really? Just a shirt?”
“Well, it’s either that or you stay as nature intended,” Matt said with a casual shrug, gaze roving over Andy’s body with blatant appreciation. “Or I suppose you could always strut that gorgeous ass over to the closet and pick something out yourself.”
A huff of exasperation slipped past Andy’s lips as he set aside the empty plate. “Fine, give me that.” He made a grabbing motion, scowling when Matt didn’t immediately hand it over.
With a chuckle, Matt closed the distance between them and dangled the shirt just out of reach. He drank in the sight of Andy flushed and rumpled and radiating that freshly ravished glow. God, he was a tempting vision.
“Hurry up and give it to me already!” Andy huffed, making another swipe for the garment.
Unable to resist riling him up further, Matt leaned in until his lips hovered a hair’s breadth from Andy’s. “Why don’t you take it from me?” he murmured, voice a low, sultry rumble.
For a heartbeat, Andy froze, eyes going wide and dark with smoldering heat. Then, with a growl of pure frustration, he surged forward and snatched the shirt from Matt’s grip.
“Attaboy,” Matt purred in approval, watching with ravenous hunger as Andy begrudgingly shrugged into the oversized dress shirt.
The crisp white fabric swallowed Andy’s lithe frame, hanging off one shoulder and leaving tantalizing glimpses of smooth skin. As Andy began buttoning up the shirt, Matt found himself mesmerized by the graceful movements of those slender fingers working their way up, button by button.
Each new button closed stole another teasing peek of Andy’s body from Matt’s hungry gaze.
But even fully buttoned, the shirt did little to conceal Andy’s beauty.
The tails skimmed his thighs, the fabric loose across the planes of his chest. Andy looked positively sinful swimming in Matt’s oversized shirt—delicate and disheveled and utterly edible.
A low rumble of appreciation reverberated in Matt’s chest as he drank in the mouthwatering sight before him. Andy really was a breathtaking vision no matter what he wore. Though Matt had to admit there was something uniquely enticing about seeing Andy garbed in his own clothing.
As Andy made to roll out of bed, Matt was on him in a heartbeat. With one fluid motion, he scooped Andy up and hauled him over his shoulder in a classic fireman’s carry, earning a loud yelp.
“Matt! Put me down!” Andy’s fists beat weakly against Matt’s back, but his protests were more for show than actual resistance.
“Stay still, princess,” Matt chuckled, giving Andy’s pert backside a fond smack. The sharp crack of skin on skin only made Andy wriggle harder, a string of breathless curses spilling from those kiss-swollen lips.
Ignoring Andy’s melodramatic protests, Matt strode out into the living area with easy, confident strides. He savored the feeling of that lithe body writhing against his own, the whisper-soft fabric of the shirt brushing against his skin in tantalizing caresses.
Only when he reached the dining table did Matt finally set Andy down with exaggerated care. Andy landed on the floor with an undignified huff, cheeks flushed and hair tousled from his struggles.
“I can walk just fine, you oaf,” he grumbled, adjusting the shirt and tugging the hem down in a vain attempt at modesty. Matt simply grinned, utterly entranced by the petulant pout on those pretty lips.
Matt just grinned wider. “But where’s the fun in that?
” His eyes gleamed with mischief as he lowered himself onto one of the plush dining chairs, the very picture of relaxed confidence.
His gaze tracked Andy’s movements, watching with predatory interest as the younger man made to take the seat next to him. But Matt had other plans.
Swiftly, Matt snaked an arm around Andy’s waist and yanked him onto his lap. The action was smooth, almost effortless, and it pulled a startled yelp from Andy’s lips as he found himself unceremoniously deposited in Matt’s lap.
Andy squirmed, trying to wriggle free, the hem of the oversized shirt riding up to reveal the enticing curve of his bare backside against the rough denim of Matt’s jeans.
The sight sent a jolt of heat straight to Matt’s groin, but he merely chuckled and tightened his hold around Andy’s waist like an iron vise, keeping him in place.
“Behave yourself, princess,” Matt purred, his voice low and teasing. He trailed the tip of his nose up the delicate shell of Andy’s ear, feeling a rush of satisfaction at the way Andy shivered in response. “Wouldn’t want me to tear this pretty shirt off you, now, would we? And kiss you senseless.”
The threat worked like a charm. Andy stilled instantly, a vibrant blush staining his cheeks. “You’re incorrigible,” he huffed, but made no further attempts to escape. “And just so you know, my ass is incredibly sore from last night’s… activities. So no more pounding today, got it?”
Matt smirked, his mind already brimming with alternative ways to pleasure Andy that wouldn’t require any vigorous thrusting.
He traced the contours of Andy’s ear with his tongue, drawing another shiver from the young man.
“Cross my heart,” he said solemnly, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a half smile. “I promise.”
With that, Matt leaned back in his chair and reached for a piece of bacon, biting into it with relish. The salty, smoky flavor burst across his tongue, but it was nothing compared to the delectable morsel currently perched on his lap.
Andy, looking slightly mollified, reached out to serve himself some breakfast. But Matt had no intention of letting him fend for himself. With a gentle yet firm grip, he stilled Andy’s hand and plucked a succulent strawberry from the fruit platter.
“Let me,” Matt said, his tone brooking no argument.
He brought the strawberry to Andy’s lips, watching with rapt attention as Andy parted them and took a delicate bite.
The sight of those lips closing around the fruit was almost too much for Matt to handle, but he forced himself to maintain his composure.
Matt continued feeding Andy, savoring the sight of the young man eating with such unguarded enthusiasm.
Each morsel seemed to disappear with a mix of eagerness and grace that Matt found endlessly entertaining.
He couldn’t help but tease, popping a grape into Andy’s mouth and watching as he chewed with those expressive eyes narrowing in playful annoyance.
“You’re going to spoil me,” Andy mumbled around a mouthful of croissant, crumbs dusting his lips. He licked them clean, oblivious to the way Matt’s gaze tracked the movement.
“That’s the plan,” Matt replied, lifting his own coffee cup to his lips, hiding a smirk behind the rim.
When Andy finally leaned back, patting his stomach in satisfaction, he announced, “I’m going to take a shower.”
Matt nodded, letting him go without fuss. “Don’t take too long. I’ve got plans for you,” he called after him.
Once Andy disappeared into the bathroom, Matt moved with quiet efficiency.
He strode to the walk-in closet and locked the door with a decisive click.
Then he settled into one of the plush armchairs by the window and made a few calls, his voice all business and sharp edges as he dealt with various matters that demanded his attention.
But his mind kept drifting back to Andy, picturing him wet and soapy under the spray of water.
Just as he was wrapping up his final call, the bathroom door swung open and Andy came striding out. Matt’s breath caught in his throat at the vision before him.
Andy stood there in all his glory, skin glistening and flushed from the heat of the shower.
Damp tendrils of hair clung to his forehead and the nape of his neck, and a small towel hung perilously low on those lean hips.
With each step, it slipped lower, threatening to expose every tantalizing inch of Andy to Matt’s hungry gaze.
But before Matt could properly drink in the sight, Andy’s eyes landed on the closed closet door. His brows furrowed in confusion as he tugged fruitlessly at the handle. “Matt?” he called out, turning to face the man with a questioning look.
Lounging back in his chair, Matt simply shrugged one broad shoulder, the picture of nonchalance. “Problem, princess?”
“Why is the closet door closed?” Andy demanded, fingers tightening around the terrycloth towel. “I need to get dressed.”