Even in the darkness, his eyes shine... the moment before he takes himself in his hand. He begins to jack himself slowly, the muscles of his forearm flexing for a beat. ‘Such dirty ideas.’
‘You like the sound of that?’ I giggle at how shocked I sound.
‘Nit the history bit. But fucking your arse?’ He tips his head back making a noise somewhere between a grunt and a moan. ‘Plans for another day.’
My heart stops right there—a break in the wiring. Shock, it seems. It’s not what he says, but the reaction it elicits in me because, as my heart stops, a fierce beating between my legs begins.
‘Fuck me, you like the sound of that, you dirty girl.’
I don’t answer. At least, not verbally as he pins me withthehottest look, his hand working his cock slowly,
‘What am I going to do with you?’ His words are a reminder of promises, the realisation like fingertips against my skin.
‘You promised me something,’ I reply, trying hard not join him by slipping a finger between my legs.
‘Anything.’
‘You promised me you’d deflower me. Hard.’
His smile falters, flickering to life a moment later, though it’s slow to grow as he places one knee on the bed. Sliding my legs wider, he insinuates himself between them, placing the head of his cock at my apex. I know I’m shaking—as much as the result of my earlier orgasm as from nerves.
Without speaking, Mac reaches out, trailing a hand down my face. With his forearm next to my head, he reaches down to open me fully, and as if I’ve done this a million times, I open instinctively, even as my heart beats with a mixture of anticipation and fear. Distantly, I’m aware I’ve reached this edge before. Distantly as though the previous time was a dream.
‘This might hurt,’ he whispers, his voice rough as though everything has suddenly become serious.
‘You’ve done this before?’ Might this make it less special, for one of us at least?
‘Not for a long time,’ is his cryptic reply, his lips taking mine in a kiss.
As I taste myself on his lips I wonder how it can be an aphrodisiac as I moan into his mouth. It’s all such a delicious diversion, too, as he slides between my legs. Despite being swollen from his attentions, every inch of me aches. My skin crawls with my need for him, my insides empty and desperate. I’ve never wanted anything so badly, never felt so greedy, my body moving of its own volition—moving with the rhythms of nature as I push against him, my fingers clawing at his back, and urging him on.
I don’t know if his grunt is a reprimand or a demand for more as I writhe beneath him. But, as he moves, I instinctively tense, though he’d only slid himself through my wetness, blowing out a harsh curse,‘Jesus Christ.’
My face in his hands and my name on his lips, he pushes inside me with one solid thrust. Mac blows out a breath as I breathe in sharply at the punch of his hips and the resulting sting. Immediately, I feel stretched. Bruised. And, as he pulls back, I place my hand on his chest—an instinct to push him away—but am surprised by the sudden and very empty ache. As he drives forward solidly again, the pain takes on an edge of pleasure, the combination strangely pleasurable.
‘Oh...’
My hands grip him tighter because I’m doing it. I’m really doing it!There’s no way to describe the sensation—the tumult of emotion building. The weight of Mac’s body over mine, his look of absorption and ecstasy. The low growl he makes as I tilt my hips to meet his next thrust; it’s all so heady. So unravelling.
‘So fucking good,’ his dark voice rasps, the room filling with the sounds of our pleasure. ‘Fuck.Fuck.’ Pushing up on his forearms, he slides a little deeper, and I close my eyes unable to watch the intensity in his expression. ‘No,’ he grunts, lowering to his forearms again and holding my head in his hands. ‘Keep your eyes open. Watch me.’
Our bodies are so close and the pressure of his next thrust rubs my clit. The tone changes suddenly, my fingers hard on his back as I urge a repeat. And he gives it to me, hard and fast, pushing himself up onto his hands once more, working himself deeper and deeper until there is no Mac and Ella, just our driving need.
His tempo increasing, the sensation between my legs borders on the most exquisite kind of pain, my hips rising to meet his where the sensation coalesces with pleasure. With desire. With love.
I whimper and mewl, curse and pray to God as Mac’s movements turn urgent, a burst of garbled words breaking free from his throat.
‘You’resofuckingtightyoufeelsofuckinggood.’
I arch my back, pleasuring crawling through me. The feeling building is too intense, and I strive to close my legs until prevented by his reprimanding grunt.
‘God.Oh, God. I’m... I’m... ’
‘Thank the fucking Lord,’ he mutters desperately, and with those final words, he holds me there, undulating above me as I ride out my orgasm against his body, my movements shameless and free.
‘That was a thing of beauty,’ he whispers when I’m finally sentient. Without giving me time to catch my breath, he kisses my head and returns to his thrusts.
‘You’re so wet. And you’re so fucking mine. Mark my words,’ he begins, grunting the words with each drive. ‘You. Were. Made. For. Me.’
