Re: carriage house: matt/atticus
[All joking aside, Matt no longer had any interest in talking. None of the things he wanted to do to Atticus just now required it, and any words exchanged were only in service of the acts. That snarl, harsh and immediate, kept him present and didn't let him forget himself, but there were no words required for that, and it thrummed through him like a plucked string. It wasn't something he ever thought he'd see from Atticus, because pushing wasn't really his style.
If he'd known about PJ staying in the house, it would have given him pause. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her any more than he already had. It would be plain cruel if she walked in right now. Thankfully, he didn't know a thing about it.
His body responded to the physicality of being leaned on, grabbed, kissed hard, with a mixture of seriously turned on and a lick of discomfort. That was okay. It was potent, actually, and he was pretty confident he knew his own limits. If this hit a point where it stopped being fun, he'd know it, and he could speak for himself. That eased all worries. He had a tongue in his mouth, not a bit, and he could say stop here, and he could know Atticus would listen.
His thoughts weren't altogether organized around such ideas in the moment, however. He felt it all instead as a series of intensely colored sensations, blood rushing into his dick when Atticus demanded he open his mouth, the lick of his tongue and the taste of him, that very masculine lean and take. He groaned a little. Okay, so he was pretty hard up, it had been a seriously long fucking time, and these were things he hadn't let himself so much as think about (not about Atticus in particular, anyway). Well, he'd thought about it a little, at a few pretty specific moments.
Then Atticus pulled away.
He blinked up at him, and his brow shot up, wordless, an almost comical are you seriously going to leave me like this?]