I hear his belt buckle, the zipper, and then he's lining himself up. He pushes inside in one hard thrust, and I cry out at the stretch, the fullness, the sheer relief of finally being filled again.
"Fuck, you're tight." His hands grip my hips hard enough to bruise. "So fucking perfect."
He doesn't give me time to adjust. He pulls almost all the way out and slams back in, setting a brutal pace that has the counter digging into my hipbones. I don't care. I push back to meet every thrust, taking him deeper, harder.
"Yes," I gasp. "God, yes, just like that!"
"I missed you wrapped around me, taking me so well." He leans over me, one hand sliding around to find my breast, the other sliding down to where we're joined. "Missed making you scream."
His fingers find my clit, circling roughly, and I do scream. The sound echoes off the walls of the back room, and I distantly hope no one's walking by outside.
"That's it. Let everyone know. Let them hear you taking my cock."
The dirty talk, the roughness, the sheer desperation of it all—it's too much. I'm already close, that coil of pleasure winding tighter with every thrust.
"Mac, I'm—I'm going to—"
"Not yet." He slows down, torturing me. "Not until I say."
"Please—"
"Beg me."
"Please." I'm not above begging. Not when I need this so badly. "Please let me come. I need it. I need you."
He pulls out completely and then he's turning me around, lifting me onto the counter. My jeans are still tangled aroundmy ankles, but he doesn't bother removing them. He just steps between my spread thighs and thrusts back inside.
This angle is deeper, more intense. I wrap my legs around him as best I can, pulling him closer. He kisses me hard while he fucks me, swallowing my moans, his tongue claiming my mouth the way his cock is claiming my body.
"Look at me," he demands, pulling back. "Want to see your face when you come."
I force my eyes open, meeting that pale blue gaze. His expression fierce and possessive and full of need.
It only takes a few more thrusts before I'm shattering, my whole body going rigid as the orgasm crashes through me. I try to keep my eyes open, to watch him watching me, but it's too intense. My eyes squeeze shut as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through me.
"Fuck, yes." His rhythm falters as my body clamps down on him. "Feel so good when you come. So fucking tight."
He thrusts three more times, hard and deep, before he follows me over with a groan that sounds like my name. I feel him pulse inside me, filling me, and some primitive part of me revels in it.
We stay frozen like that, both shaking, both gasping for air. Papers have scattered everywhere. Inventory tags litter the floor. A roll of ribbon has unspooled across the room.
"Holy shit," I finally manage.
He lifts his head from where it was buried in my neck, and despite everything, he's almost smiling. That real smile that makes my heart skip. "Birdie's staying at her own place from now on. I can't go another two weeks without this."
I laugh breathlessly, then wince as he pulls out. "What about her recovery?"
"She's fine. The doctor cleared her to live alone. I'm the one who's been hovering." He helps me off the counter, steadiesme when my legs wobble. "But she doesn't need me there 24/7 anymore. And I need you."
"Good." I cup his face in my hands, suddenly serious. "Because I need you too. Every night. In my bed where you belong."
He kisses me softly, so different from the desperate urgency of moments ago. "Tonight?"
"Tonight," I confirm. "Come over after you get Birdie settled. Stay with me."
"Yeah." He kisses me again, deeper. "Okay."
We clean up in silence. When we emerge back into the shop, disheveled and flushed, I catch our reflection in the window and have to stifle a laugh.
