#dom!matty

The Interview.

The cameras are almost blinding as you stare out into the crowd of photographers shouting your name, trying to get the best angle for whatever publication they’re working for. Being a top executive at Sony Music meant you mostly worked behind the scenes; out of the spotlight. However, seeing as 18 artists on your label (five of which you yourself handpicked) were up for awards tonight, you couldn’t not show up to The Grammys. Besides, it felt good to dress up once in a while, especially if that meant wearing custom Chanel.

Continuing down the red carpet, you’re stopped by a reporter for Rolling Stone, Bryan Wilson. From the few brief interactions you’ve had with him at industry parties and the stories that have circulated about him, you know the guy’s a sleaze. But, given that there’s a Canon XF605 pointed directly in your face when he asks if you have time for a short interview, you smile sweetly and comply.

“You look stunning tonight, as always, Y/N”, he begins, in typical sleazy reporter fashion, “Can you tell us a little bit about what you’re wearing?” His eyes travel down the expanse of your body, grazing (quite slowly, to be frank) over the daring V-cut of your gown.

You couldn’t really blame him for checking you out, you did look incredible in this dress. Layers of black satin expertly draped over your body created an elegant but sexy silhouette complete with a plunging neckline and a timeless backless design. You knew you looked good, you didn’t need Wilson eye-fucking you to tell.

“Isn’t this The Rolling Stone?” You giggle in response, half-joking, “Shouldn’t you be asking me about Sony Records and leave the fashion questions to Vogue?” To the untrained ear, your tone is light-hearted and sincere, however, there’s an intended edge you’re hoping is coming through.

If he was picking up on the edge, he wasn’t showing it. Wilson continues on checking you out, responding “We hear about Sony Records enough, but it’s a treat to see the woman behind the magic,” he looks directly into the camera and gestures to your body, “especially when the woman looks like this!” He looks at you now, “Why don’t you give us a spin, Y/N?”

You clench your jaw into a tight smile, “You know, I’d really rather talk about the artists up for awards tonight. It’s a record-breaking night for my company, and I’m extremely proud to be here…” You’re trying your best to refocus the conversation on the real reason you’re on the red carpet tonight, but Wilson’s wandering eyes are making it difficult for you to focus on anything.

Finally feeling fed up, you clear your throat, “Sorry, Bryan, am I boring you?”

He breaks out of his stare from your chest and goes red. “Oh! No, I’m sorry I was just… looking at your necklace!” He gestures to the Tiffany & Co. pendant that hangs (conveniently for him) right between your boobs.

“Stunning, innit?” You hear your boyfriend say from behind you as he comes up and possessively wraps his arm around your waist on camera in a way that will definitely be circulating Twitter tomorrow. “Just bought it for her yesterday when I first got to see the dress.” Matty grips your right hip so tight that the satin puckers under his fingertips. You get a feeling he’s been watching this “interview” from afar.

“A beautiful necklace for a beautiful woman, indeed,” Wilson so boldly responds, either not noticing or not caring that Matty was already quite irritated.

With that final comment, Matty grips your hip even tighter, “Right, then,” he says shortly, “Cheers, mate!” He yells over his shoulder while quickly ushering you away from the train wreck of a media appearance.

“I’m gonna kill that guy,” he leans down to quietly whisper in your ear as the two of you make your way into the venue, “Staring at you like a piece of meat live on camera, isn’t he embarrassed?”

“It’s really not a big deal, baby,” you try to reassure him. And to you, it wasn’t, really, compared to some of the other harassment and objectification you’ve experienced in such a male-dominated industry, “He’s just some stupid reporter,”

“Yeah some stupid reporter who doesn’t know how to keep his stupid fucking eyes away from what’s mine,” he growls under his breath.

You grow a bit warm at your boyfriend’s possessive words and decide to push him a little further. “So what, people aren’t allowed to look at me now? We’re kind of on a red carpet if you haven’t realized,”

Matty rolls his eyes as the two of you take your seats at your assigned table. “You know what I mean,” he scoots a bit closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist, “People can look at you all they want, but these,” he trails his hand up your torso, palming your left tit and slightly grazing its nipple through your dress with his thumb. You gasp. “These are mine, and you know that.” he says lowly into your ear.

This was going to be a long night.

—

Seven wins, two acceptance speeches, and a few too many bottles of champagne later, the ceremony was coming to an end. You were so proud of your artists, even those who hadn’t won tonight.

To your (and your aching feet’s) misfortune, your boyfriend was insistent on “making an appearance” at the afterparty, to “touch base with some important blokes”. You weren’t thrilled about the ordeal, but you had a nice buzz going from the free champagne earlier and figured a gin and tonic to top off the night wouldn’t hurt anyone. Boy were you wrong.

You were standing by the bar by yourself, watching Matty “touch base” with the aforementioned “blokes”. Nursing your second gin and tonic, you wonder how much longer their conversation will take, and when you can finally go home (and take your boyfriend to bed). As your mind indulges your fantasies of being fucked to sleep later, you hear an annoying and familiar voice from behind you.

“It breaks my heart to see such a gorgeous woman drinking alone,” no one other than Bryan Wilson saunters up beside you at the bar, “Where’s your man? You think he’d be smarter than to leave such precious goods unattended…” he slurs to you, obviously a few more deep than you were at this point in the night.

As Wilson drunkenly gets too close to you, you turn back to where Matty was talking to see him staring holes into the man’s skull, clenching and unclenching his fists. Your nearing-on-past-tipsy mind flashes back to your boyfriend’s words earlier, and his reaction to the reporter’s initial efforts towards you. You consider your options: 1) tell Wilson to fuck off and continue being bored by yourself at the bar, or 2) play this up a bit, make Matty jealous, have some fun, and probably go home early. Your sixth drink of the night tells you option two is far more enticing, and you agree.

You lean into Wilson a bit, closing some of the distance you were intentionally making. “Ever the flatterer, Bryan,” you lean back and give him a once-over, “I’m shocked that you’re still single, a handsome guy like you with such a smooth mouth on him.”

“It’s intentional baby,” he puts a hand on your arm - uh oh. “Why would I tie down this smooth mouth to one lucky lady? There’s plenty enough to go around…” and just as you think he’s about to make a move you feel a bruising grip on your upper arm tearing you away. Away from Bryan Wilson, away from the bar, away from the party.

You get your bearings and find yourself in a secluded hallway outside the party with your very angry, very sexy boyfriend staring you in the face. “What the fuck was that?” He spits at you, fuming.

“What was what?” You respond, looking up at Matty with your best doe eyes.

He cages your body in between his own and the wall of the hallway, “Don’t play stupid with me now, things can only get worse for you from here, pet.” As you look up at your very jealous partner, and feel the energy radiating off of him, you think to yourself that things can probably only get better.

You maintain your look of faux-innocence as you reply in your sweetest voice “Baby I was just talking to-“

“Don’t ‘baby’ me,” Matty growls as he grabs your throat and pushes you harder into the wall behind you. “You were letting that perv practically fuck you in front of everybody here. Making everyone think you’re anything but mine.” He pushes his hips into yours to punctuate the word, and you can feel how hard he is. Oh dear. Maybe it’s time to drop the act.

“I’m sorry, you were just taking so long talking to those guys, and I was getting so impatient and needy for you,” You bat your eyelashes in an attempt to seduce your way out of undoubtedly being fucked silly in some corner of this hotel right now. “I just want you to take me home, baby,” You run your hands down his chest, the way you know he likes.

Matty scoffs at this. “Aw, my poor little slut can’t wait longer than an hour for me to take her home and fuck her?” You feel a heat pool at your center from his words and absolute condescension. His hand around your neck comes up to grip your jaw, holding your head so that you can’t look anywhere but his eyes. “So fucking pathetic. Having to whore yourself around in public so that I can give you some attention? Trying to embarrass me in front of all our colleagues meanwhile, the only thing embarrassing is how stupid you look letting that scumbag put his hands on you,”

He holds your face an inch away from his own, his eyes searching for a response in yours. “I think you may need to be reminded just who you belong to.” He says darkly. And with that, he’s dragging you again, this time into the bathroom at the other end of the hallway.

As soon as the door closes he has you pressed up against it face-first. He wastes no time undoing the back of your dress, practically ripping it off of your body. You hope he doesn’t do any damage to the new gown, but to be honest, you’re not sure you care in this moment either way. Upon removing the dress, your boyfriend can see that you’ve forgone any undergarments (half because of the dress itself, half because you knew it would drive him crazy - which it does).

“Oh my fucking god,” he practically moans when he sees your now naked form pressed up against the door for him. “You’ve been ready for me all night, haven’t you princess?” He whispers in your ear, pressing himself to your back, slightly grinding into your bare ass. You squirm with his words and the minimal stimulation he provides.

“Well let’s just take a look,” He reaches his hand around from where he’s standing and drags a finger through your soaking folds agonizingly slowly. Your breath hitches. “Oh my poor girl,” he tuts, “how long have you been soaking through your dress baby?” He resumes his teasing, touching everywhere that isn’t your clit or your entrance. You whine and push your hips back in protest.

Matty grabs you by your waist and holds you in place against the door. “I think I asked you a question, slut.” He barks. You only grow wetter at his words and his toying.

“Since-“ you start, but you’re cut off by a moan when he takes his free hand to pull on your left nipple. His teasing is almost overwhelming, and you’re not sure you even remember the question the way your head is clouded with lust and need.

You’re pulled out of your hazy state by a hard slap to your pussy, “Since what? Huh? I haven’t even taken my cock out and you’re already fucked dumb. Answer me. How long have you been this wet?” He asks again, rolling your nipple between his fingers while inching closer and closer to your entrance with his calloused hand.

“Since you were grabbing my hips on the red carpet,” you manage to stutter out “during the interview.”

With that answer, he removes both of his hands from you. You put your hands up to brace yourself from slamming into the door from your newfound loss of support. Matty laughs darkly.

“So that’s what this is about, huh angel?” He grabs you by your hips, spinning to face him and pushing you even harder into the door behind you, “you like it when I get riled up, so I’ll treat you like the whore that you are?”

You look up at him with your glazed-over eyes and nod dumbly.

“Well here’s the problem with that,” Matty begins sucking on your neck harshly, no doubt leaving bruises, “You… are… my… whore… no… one… else’s…” he punctuates every word by leaving a new mark on your chest with his mouth. He takes a step back, admiring his handiwork. “Gorgeous,” he mutters as he admires your now hickey-covered tits, “you should really see this baby.”

Matty leads you over to the sink of the bathroom, turning you around to see your naked and marked-up form in the mirror. Looking at the new marks on your chest, you realize that he’s left them in the distinct pattern of your dress’s neckline, meaning there’s no hiding them. No hiding the fact that you’re his. You squeeze your thighs together at the thought.

Leaning over your shoulder in the mirror, you watch as your boyfriend trails his hand down your body to the place you need him most. Unsurprisingly, though, he doesn’t touch you, he simply ghosts his hand over the outside of your now sopping heat. You press yourself into him.

“Please, baby,” you whine, making your best puppy eyes in the mirror at him. “Please, I need you to touch me.” You’re so desperate he doesn’t even need to ask you to beg.

“Do you think you deserve to be touched?” He responds, continuing his teasing, “You’ve been quite a bad girl tonight, baby. And bad girls don’t get what they want.”

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you beg even more, tears forming at your eyes with the desperation he’s built in you.

“Prove it,” Matty responds, trailing his hand up to your mouth. You gladly take his digits in, watching as he toys with you and stretches you out, wishing he would do that in other places. You hear the clinking of his belt, and you perk up, thinking that maybe he’s just going to put you out of your horny misery and fuck you already, but of course he’s not.

“Can’t have you getting yourself all over my nice trousers now can we love?” He says as he pulls his pants down to his ankles. You watch still with all four of his fingers in your mouth as he takes his newly naked thigh and roughly slots it in between your legs from behind. Your eyes roll back at the much-needed friction it provides. Matty leans in, “Right then. Be a good girl and ride my thigh, hm? You’re gonna have to get yourself off before I believe you after tonight’s theatrics.”

Embarrassing as it may be, you are in no condition to care in this moment. You immediately start feverishly fucking your boyfriend’s thigh, moaning around his fingers at the friction you’ve been needing all night, a ball already forming in the pit of your stomach. Not more than a second after your head falls forward in relief, your boyfriend grabs you by your hair to force you to look in the mirror, “Nuh-uh” he growls, “You’re gonna watch while you fuck yourself on my thigh. You’re gonna see just how pathetic you are, crying with relief and coming undone when I’ve not even touched you.”

Matty’s words and the sight of him and you in the mirror add to the very quickly growing warmth in your body. Your skin is on fire as you grip the sink in front of you, trying to use whatever leverage you can to get yourself off faster. You take one hand to start kneading your tits, playing with your nipples, hoping some added stimulation will help; you whine at the new sensation.

“There you go princess, that’s it,” he coos in your ear, “so good f’me, taking directions so well baby.”

The praise goes straight to your core and you can feel yourself clench around nothing. Matty can tell by your breathing that you’re close, so he grabs you by your hips to help you, moving you back and forth on his thigh, assisting in your rhythm. “Come on my thigh,” he demands in your ear; and you do. That white-hot pleasure you’ve been chasing since you saw your boyfriend on the red carpet this afternoon finally washes over you. But it’s not enough.

Matty takes his fingers out of your mouth but keeps you firm against him. As you come down from your high, you look at him in the mirror desperately. Your orgasm was, well, an orgasm, but you know it could be so much better if he would just fuck you.

“Matty please,” You whine, still making sweet eye contact, “Baby, I need more.”

Matty nods his head in the direction of the door. “Put your dress on, love,” You think you might cry, until he whispers in your ear, “I’m not done with you yet, princess.”

---------

the car pulled to a stop in the familiar neighbourhood on the outskirts of LA. matty paid the uber driver and thanked him, stepping out and walking around to open your door. he took your hand and helped you get to your feet. as he pulled you up, he brought his face to your ear and muttered 'you're about to be sorry darling'. 'for what?' you smiled up at him faking innocence, clinging onto his arm as you walked to the front door of his house.

he didn't need to answer, his dominant stare making your insides flutter. your plan was working. get him all worked up so he can't keep his hands off you. he unlocked the door, not taking his eyes off you and you'd barely stepped inside before he had your back pushed against the door.

'you fucking knew what you were up to today didn't you? feeling me up under the table, knowing it was driving me crazy that I couldn't have you right there and then.' 'what are you gonna do about it?' you whispered, leaning further into him.

a soft moan escaped your lips as his mouth met your neck viciously, sucking and kissing at the skin down to your collarbone. you loved when he left his mark on you, and heat rushed to your core in anticipation of what was to come.

suddenly, he pulled away and you whimpered at the loss of contact. he shrugged off his already open black shirt and threw it on the coat rack. his arms looked so good in the black tank top, but you didn't have time to stare before he picked you up bridal style, causing you to giggle.

your hands clasped around his neck while he carried you up the stairs and dropped you down on the bed.

you slipped off your heels as he went to the other side of the bed and flicked on the bedside lamp. you watched him through the long mirror at the end of the bed, admiring how his toned figure and pale skin seemed to glow in the orange hue of the light as he made his way back to you.

he caught you staring in the mirror and his eyes darkened as if an idea came to him. 'go up to the headboard, love', he said, towering over you as you scooted backwards, stopping once your back came in contact with the plush pillows. he climbed onto the bed after you, now kneeling in front of you. your stomach had butterflies, eagerly anticipating his touch.

'you're gonna do what I say ok darling? if it gets too much tell me to stop' he said in a hushed tone, as if speaking too loudly would ruin the moment. you nodded in reply. 'say it', he ordered, louder this time. 'yes' you replied, falling under his spell easily.

he took off his tank top revealing his partially inked chest, and shifted around so he was sitting beside you, back to the headboard. with his legs spread apart, you could see how hard he was. the outline of his arousal in his tight trousers a tribute to how much he needed you.

'sit' he ordered, pointing to the space between his legs. you hummed in reply, throwing your leg over him so you were straddling him. 'not this way fucks sake', he muttered harshly, grabbing your arms and twisting you around. letting him be rough with you turned you on, and he knew that. the warm feeling of his chest against your back made you roll into him, craving him at this stage.

his hands wandered every inch of your torso while still leaving red marks on your neck, as though he was claiming you as his own. his fingers lingered at the hem of your dress and he pulled his mouth away from your collarbone to say 'take it off for me sweetheart'.

you pulled the black satin dress off over your head, revealing a black lace two-piece. a low groan escaped his throat and you watched his face in the mirror, eyes scanning up and down your body, taking it all in. 'did you wear this just for me?' you nodded. 'my perfect little slut', he mumbled, before taking your lips in his again, this time more passionately.

his kiss was electric, fuelling the fire in your stomach that was burning with desire, the space between your thighs aching more and more at every movement.

'you're gonna watch everything I do baby, don't look away,' he said, turning your face to the mirror. the scene was erotic, his arms wrapped around you possessively in the dim lighting. you nodded and hummed in reply.

one of his hands trailed from your breast down your stomach, leaving goosebumps in its path, the other gripping your other shoulder, your chin resting on his forearm. your breathing got heavier and heavier and you whined desparately when he reached the fabric of your underwear. 'whos the one in charge now? pathetic', he muttered into your ear.

he plunged his hand down and started rubbing slow, forceful circles into your clit sending shivers through your body. your back arched in response, grinding your hips into his touch.

he dipped a finger into you, extracting a loud moan of his name. you had barely adjusted before he added another, your walls clenching around him. he moved at a slow pace, his thumb resting on your clit.

your hand went to cover his to push him further into you, before he slapped it away and continued, even slower now, drawing impatient whines from you.

'I'm not gonna have to tie up those pretty hands to stop you doing it yourself, am I?' he said softly. 'n-no I just- mfhh fuck', you mumbled, unable to form coherent words as his fingers started to fuck you at a heavenly pace.

he pushed into you further, deeper than he had been, and you let out a high pitched whimper, your hands instantly grabbing at his arm that was wrapped around your neck. he pulled you in closer, his arm pushing against your neck creating a euphoric buzz in your head.

your eyes fluttered shut and he grabbed your face roughly, turning you back towards the mirror. 'I said look at me', he spat, his voice stern. he pulled his fingers out of you suddenly, bringing them up to your lips.

he didn't need to tell you what to do as you tasted yourself on him, licking his fingers clean.

he groaned at the feeling, the thought of you licking your own arousal off his soaked fingers. 'I can't stay like this much longer, you're killing me darling', he said, unzipping his fly and keeping his unflinching eye contact in the mirror. 'please, need you so bad', you whined in response, throwing yourself forward onto the bed, propped up by your elbows, ready for him. the words came out strained and needy but you didn't care.

he pushed off his jeans and boxers in one fluid motion, only moving away from you for a second to discard the clothes onto the floor. he was kneeling behind you, already throbbing, aching for you. one of his hands went to his cock, stroking up and down in preparation for you. wetness pooled in your cunt, soaking through the lace that clung to your body.

he grabbed the back of the thong with his free hand and pulled it down. you lifted your knees as he pulled it off your legs gently. 'fuck, look at you, dripping for me', he smirked, making eye contact with you through the reflection. he swiped two fingers past your slit, and plunged them into his mouth, tilting his head back and groaning again. the sight was pornographic, and made you shudder, begging for him to fuck you. 'matty, please,' you begged. 'patience, love', he replied, reaching over to the bedside table to grab a condom from the drawer. 'babe you don't need to, I'm on the pill'. he looked at you. 'you sure?' 'please', you replied, desperate to feel him fully.

he pushed forward, teasing up and down your entrance slowly, causing you to rut backwards, a loud groan leaving your lips. a low buzz of pleasure came from his throat.

he spent another few moments stroking up and down, his tip grazing off your clit painstakingly lightly, until you were practically a puddle under him. 'please, I can't wait, need you', your voice was shaky, and you were getting more worked up by the second.

the desperation in your voice was clearly enough for him to give in as he pushed forward, stretching you out slowly. loud sounds of pleasure filled the room, echoing from both of you.

he started slow as he usually did, but sped up as you cried out for him. he grabbed your hair into a ponytail with his fist, using it as an anchor to pull you further onto him.

every inch of him filled you up with each thrust, stretching your tight pussy. his grip tightened on your hip, rough fingertips digging into your skin. the feeling of matty all over your body, everywhere at once was dizzying.

he leaned forward, his bare chest now flush with your back. you felt his arm snake around your waist to rub fast circles into your clit in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. a moan escaped your throat, and the knot in your stomach tightened upon seeing mattys intense expression, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure and jaw hanging open above your head.

he buried his head in the crook of your neck, his noises spilling into your ear, spurring both of you on.

the combination of his cock pulsing inside you and his skilled fingers was pushing you closer and closer to the edge. his movements became faster and sloppier, indicating that he was close too.

'matty, I'm gonna-', you barely got the words out before your vision blurred, crying out as your whole body went fuzzy with euphoria. your legs were about to give out as he worked you through your orgasm. 'I've got you darling, mmph, fuck-', his voice was reassuring at first, being broken by sinful noises as he pushed into you hard.

the two of you moaned each others names practically at the same time as you felt his warmth spilling into you. his legs started shaking, and he pulled you into his lap, collapsing into the pillows behind him. he clung onto you as your breathing slowed, both of you silently catching your breath and melting into each other.

his cock twitched inside you and you could feel his cum sliding down, threatening to drip out. 'I'm gonna lift off you, that ok?' you whispered. he nodded and kissed your cheek before you sat up, letting his arms fall to his sides. you whimpered at the empty feeling when he pulled back.

he immediately wrapped his arms around you again when you lay back into him. he interlocked his fingers with the back of your hand, but he was still looking into the mirror, distracted. 'what are you... ,' your voice trailed off, realising what caught his attention.

the white liquid was dripping out of you, sliding down further and further. 'sorry', he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your hand. you giggled up at him and his face flushed. you reached down with your interlaced hand and ran your finger through the mess between your legs. he watched you intently as you brought your hand up to your mouth alongside his and sucked it clean. he groaned and mumbled 'you're fucking perfect', causing you to giggle and lean your head into him.

'let's get you cleaned up', he said, tapping your thigh and moving to get up. 'I wanna stay here forever', you mumbled, still feeling fragile.

'so do I baby but I care about you, let me look after you,' he said, placing a soft kiss on your temple. the contrast between how dominant he had been earlier, fucking you so hard you could barely move, and how soft he was now, making sure you were ok, made you fall deeper in love with him.

all you could say in response was 'I love you'. 'I love you too', he replied, a genuine smile appearing on his face. it wasn't the first time you'd said it, but it still warmed your heart every time.