Chapter One
Maisie
“Look at me.”
I force my gaze up, taking in the brilliant blue-green of Macallan’s eyes that are hooded with desire.
“I’m looking at you.” I cry out when he thrusts into me hard and deep.
“Eyes open, Mais.” A command I find nearly impossible as he draws almost all the way out, only to slam into me again, pushing me farther up the smooth surface of the desk beneath my back.
Fingers biting into my hips, he repeats the movement, driving my body to the brink, only to retreat just enough to let it settle before doing it all over again. It’s the sweetest form of torture I think I’ve ever experienced in my life. But for the love of God, I wish he’d let me have the release my body so desperately craves.
I feel like a wind-up toy that’s been wound too tight and at any moment my strings are going to snap and I’m going to completely unravel. Ruined from ever being played with again.
And that’s exactly what he’s doing... Ruining me for anyone else. After this... After him... I can’t imagine there’s any coming back from this. And damn it, I don’t want to. All I want is him. Something I never thought I’d feel, especially just a couple of months into my freshman year of college.
I had a plan coming in.
Be free and wild. Unapologetic. Take what I want when I want it. No strings. Nothing holding me back. Live the life my sister never got to. Live it for both of us to the absolute fullest every single day. And that’s what I’ve done thus far. But this man...
I’m afraid he has the power to shatter everything I thought I wanted. Honestly, I think he already has. And for someone who’s never wanted commitment, never wanted to tie myself down to another person, that’s truly saying something.
“Fuck, you feel like you were made for me.” He husks, the sound damn near tipping me over the very precarious edge I currently find myself dangling over.
My heart expands in my chest...
I feel like you were made for me too... I think but don’t say.
“Mac.” I claw at his shoulders, thick with muscle, urging him to move faster. “More.”
“More, you say.” A wicked smile turns up the corners of his mouth, that damn irresistible dimple of his making an appearance.
Before I can react, Macallan withdraws completely, causing me to whimper in protest, only to then gasp when he takes me by the legs and flips me onto my stomach with such ease, you’d think I weighed nothing at all.
Chest flat against the hard wood, he enters me from behind in a powerful thrust that fills me so completely I swear there isn’t an inch of my body that doesn’t feel the effects of him.
After pulling out halfway, he thrusts again, this time so deep it’s borderline painful, and yet all I want is more.
More of this.
More of him.
I never want it to end.
But as he establishes a steady rhythm, his grip on my hips the only thing keeping me in place, there’s no fighting the thick build of release in my stomach. No stopping the tide that washes over me. No preventing the coil of my body as my orgasm crests.
And then I’m crying out. Screaming his name as I drown in the pleasure that pulls me under like a powerful ocean wave, refusing to let me surface until it’s had its way with me.
I submit to it. Submit to him. Hearing him grunt out his own release seconds later like my body triggered his own in response.
As we lie there, Macallan’s weight pressed into my back, his breath hot on my neck, his cock still twitching inside of me, a thought hits me so hard that it knocks the air from my lungs... And once it does, there’s no stopping the onslaught of emotion that follows.
I think I love him...
It seems crazy. We’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks. But in that time, he’s made me feel more alive, more seen, than anyone ever has before.
I think I love him—the thought hits me again, only to be disputed by another part of me that refuses to be silenced. My heart. And she’s not afraid to say what my brain is struggling to comprehend.
